Fusillade (Wanderer/f!Reader)

“POST HORROR CUDDLES!”

WINDBREAKER BOYS + COMFORTING YOU. ft. hayato suo, sakura haruka, togame jo, & umemiya hajime x f!reader

filled request: “hello hello! may i request bofurin boys and shishtoren boys x scared!reader? reader had been watching too many scary ghost/strange videos and now theyre all shivered up but wont stop watching. what would they do to comfort their sweetheart? please and thank you!!! <333”

sfw / fluff . 1.5K wc. thank u for sending this in :>

HAYATO SUO.

"oh? are you going to follow me everywhere?"

suo's teasing tone contrasts with the sweet smile he gives you when your hand shyly tugs at the back of his sweater, your frame trailing only about a half step behind his own as you follow him down the hall.

he stops when he’s directly in front of your bathroom, and you suddenly realize that maybe you should have listened to him earlier. your poor tolerance for horror was well known to him— but in your defense, you weren't expecting the stories to be that scary.

there was just no way you could have known.

"..just don't wanna be alone right now," you mutter, cheeks hot with embarrassment—but you're too scared to care, "and you can fight better than me."

"i can just wait here if you're fast," you quickly add, deciding against following him all the way into the bathroom; but rather just wait outside. because if you did, he'd never let you hear the end of it. not that your situation is much different now.

suo hums in agreement.

"you're so cute," he coos, amusement coloring his voice as he glances back at you. "oh, but be careful."

he raises a finger to warn you, "a truly skilled serial killer would be able to get to you in the one minute i spend in the bathroom."

your eyes widen at the information, and he stifles the chuckle that threatens to come out. "oh, but you already knew that, didn't you? don't mind me then."

the way you gasp and latch onto his arm immediately after he turns to leave is endearing. "wait," your voice is urgent, "i'm scared now."

of course you were.

it's only now when you start to realize just how dark your hallway is at nighttime. the purses you have hanging on your doorknobs suddenly look a lot like what a humanoid figure would look like. your eyes dart around you, and a part of you wishes you had never left the comfort of your own bed to follow him here in the first place.

"i was kidding," his voice cuts through the tension, and he’s smiling in amusement, hand coming to interlace with yours before giving you a reassuring squeeze. "come on, let's go back to bed."

“you don’t need to pee?” you ask, arms latching around his as you follow his steps closely.

“don’t worry about that.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

"stop—don't touch me!"

your hands instinctively fly up to shield your face as the bedroom door swings open with a bang, the doorknob slipping from his grasp and crashing loudly against the wall. there's a grumbled curse that follows, and through the gaps in your fingers, you spot your boyfriend standing frozen in the doorway, utterly bewildered.

"h-huh?"

he's holding a bag of bubble waffles, his other hand trying to balance both boba drinks without dropping them onto the floor. "sorry," he grumbles, "my hands were full."

that's right— he did head out earlier to pick up your boba order for you. it was only a few minutes after he left when you started putting on scary stories to pass the time. something you shouldn't have done while you were alone, you realize.

"oh..." you let out a relieved sigh, your shoulders relaxing. "it's just you. you scared me."

he raises a brow in confusion before his gaze finally shifts to the fortress of pillows around you, cocooning your figure with what looks to be his very own hoodie pulled all the way over your head. your lips tug into a knowing smile when he breaks out into a furious blush at the sight. "perfect timing. you're gonna protect me now, right? baby?" you tease, emphasizing the nickname that never fails to make his cheeks flush.

"f-from what?" he's stammering, making his way towards your bed to set down the snacks onto your nightstand with stiff and awkward movements.

"and why are you calling me…” his eyebrows furrow deeply, “t-that?”

you look cute in his clothes, and you look cuter hidden underneath all those pillows. seeing you like this makes him want to pull you flush against him, hold you close and make you feel protected— but he would never say that aloud. he would absolutely never be able to get the words out if he tried.

there's a choked noise of surprise when you lean over your mattress, arms enveloping his frame in a cheerful embrace.

"what, you don't like being called baby?"

the red deepens into a deep shade of scarlet at the name.

he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to work up the courage and admit that he does like it. he’s liked every single pet name you've ever called him (which was probably all of them by this point). he just hates the way they take away his ability to speak.

his arm extends towards you in one rough motion, the ice in your drink sloshing around as he tears his gaze from you, glaring at your wall instead as he waits for the heat in his ears to die down.

"j-just drink this already."

TOGAME JO.

you don't understand how your boyfriend is able to lounge so comfortably in complete darkness.

he's seemingly unfazed by the horror unfolding on the screen in front of him. and you, on the other hand, are sitting wide-eyed directly beside him, your heart racing with each scene that plays. you have to remind yourself that the shadows moving around you are just your imagination, and that the eerie creaks in the wooden floors are definitely not because of footsteps.

"togame," you pull on his sleeve with urgency as soon as you notice eyelids starting to droop, your boyfriend dipping in and out of sleep. “togame.”

"hmm?" he hums out lowly, eyes still shut as his hand rubs circles on your lower back to calm your nerves.

it was something he's always done when the two of you took naps together. he likes to trace up and down your back, drawing little shapes and circles on the skin with his fingertip as he listens to your voice.

"please don't fall asleep," you plead, "i can't watch this all by myself."

there's a little grunt that escapes his lips when he stirs, shifting a bit before propping himself up on an elbow to look at you. the movie wasn't scary to him, but clearly that wasn't the case with you, because you're peering up at him through teary lashes, lips jutting out in a pout as you plead with him to stay up.

it makes his heart flutter.

"come here," he finally says, pulling the bottom of his sweatshirt up for you to crawl underneath. you’re staring at him for only a brief moment before you're immediately slipping underneath the fabric, nestling yourself against his chest and letting his warmth envelope you. a small smile tugs at his lips when he feels you let out a content sigh, hands coming to balance themselves on the strong muscles of his chest.

"better?" he asks, arms coming to lay loosely around your waist.

"mhm," you sigh, "thank you."

UMEMIYA HAJIME.

"here, come here."

umemiya is gentle when he pulls you onto his lap, hands guiding your thighs to straddle his own as he wraps you up in a suffocating hug, smiling when you return the embrace. "all better?"

you give him a small nod.

"good, because you're stuck with me now," he grins, strong arms flexing as they tighten their hold around your frame, and he leans back against the wall with a satisfied hum.

"thank you, ume," you mumble softly, burying your face into his chest. he knows this has always been your favorite way to cuddle with your teddy bear of a boyfriend, and he's the same way. he likes when you latch onto him like a koala, and he likes when you press your ear against his chest to listen to his heartbeat.

he likes having you close like this.

"of course," his voice is a soothing rumble, and he leans down to press quick kisses to the top of your head. his fingers come to gently massage your neck, the rhythm calming your nerves. "but you know— they aren't real. they won't hurt you."

you lean into ume a little more, letting out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. "i know... but it's still scary."

he chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your cheek. "that's okay. that's why i'm here with you."

his presence helps you relax a bit, finally loosening your grip around his middle as your breathing steadies a bit. "maybe i'll play something else for you," he suggests, grunting as he reaches over to grab the remote. "you like the dancing fruit?"

you lift your head to meet his eyes, mouth spreading into a little smile. "let’s watch the dancing blueberries today.”

barbietoes

the bit you wrote about sakura and how he would stick out his hand and it being "a silent and nervous plea for you to come and hold his hand" had me AWWWWWWING.

THATS SO FREAKING CUTE I CANTTT, love how you write him :)))

original post here! sfw, 700 word count.

my beautiful nonnie you are so sweet and i love u for sending this ask so i wrote this lil blurb for you ! <3 thank you :>

"huh? sakura?"

he wishes he never chose to stick his hand out the second he turns around to meet your gaze, heart thumping wildly against his chest when he sees the way you’ve tilted your head a bit, innocent eyes staring into his as you wait for an explanation. “what are you doin-”

“f-forget it!” his words stumble out of his mouth before you finish your sentence, palms clammy as he shoves them deep inside his pockets, pace quickening as he turns and walks away.

it was unlike him to do something like that in the first place. you’ve always been the one to initiate things like this, never failing to bring a furious blush to his face with each act of affection you shower him with. he doesn’t know what came over him in that moment… or how you were even supposed to understand his silent plea in the first place, but he’s confident that he wouldn’t be able to handle the dizzying heat in his head getting any worse than it already was now.

“wait!” your voice cuts through the air, and he finds himself slowing down his pace for you before he even realizes it. with how close your footsteps sound, he knows he doesn’t have enough time to fight this persistent blush. he can feel the heat continue to spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears at the thought of you holding him—

“…you okay? sakura?”

the sound of your voice pulls him out his thoughts, and it takes him a second, a couple more blinks to realize that you’re now directly in front of him, face inches away from his to inspect his expression with a curious hum.

there’s a strangled noise of surprise from him before he’s jerking back violently, sleeve coming to hide the bottom half of his face as he gasps. when did you get so close? he pushes his nose against his forearm, seeking some sort of comfort from his makeshift shield. a part of him hopes it’s enough to mask the embarrassment written all over his face, but deep down, he knows that it’s pointless with you.

“you did that because you wanted me to hold your hand, right? sorry, i didn’t get it at first…” you continue with a giggle, and he only manages a weak nod, words stuck in his throat as he forces himself to remember to breathe.

“i—” he tries to speak, but his voice catches in his throat again. it seems to be enough of a confirmation for you though, because you stick your hand out with a cheerful smile. “it’s okay. give me your hand, sakura. let’s go.”

his breath hitches in his throat when he hesitantly takes his hands out from the bottoms of his pockets, laying it lightly on yours. the feeling of your fingers interlacing with his right after has his stomach turning inside out, and he tears his gaze from you when he catches a quick glimpse of the soft smile you’re giving him.

the walk home by your side is painful, to say the least. his mind is stuck on how nice your hands feel against his, and he’s just trying to walk straight at this point. each step is more of a challenge than the last, stiff and forced— and he thinks it’s because his mind has been consumed by the thoughts of you and the overwhelming emotions swirling inside him.

he feels so warm.

“hey, sakura…?” your voice breaks the silence, and he stiffens at the subtle change in your tone, his mind beginning to race right away. was he too harsh earlier? did he push you away? his heart sinks at the thought. he just wants to be closer to you, to be someone who can reciprocate the affection you shower him with so easily, but he struggles to let his guard down.

“..what?” he blurts out, words tinged with hesitation. his heart pounds loudly against his chest as he waits for your next words, unsure of what to expect.

“did you want a kiss too while we’re at it?” the smile he’s so familiar with returns to your face, and the world seems to stop as he processes your question.

-- Touch deprived boys

✧ or: touch- or not so touch deprived wind breaker boys ✧ featuring: Sakura Haruka, Suo Hayato, Umemiya Hajime, Hiragi Toma & Kaji Ren x gn!reader [separate] ✧ content: established relationship & fluff ✧ a/n: i dropped one suo fic and got busy the same week and fell ill the next week lmfao. hiragi may be a bit ooc - ya know when you know how the characters act and how they are in theory, but can't articulate that in your works? yeah. yeah. this is not proofread we post this without beta-reading like real men.

Sakura doesn't register the feeling at first. To be more precise, he doesn't know what the feeling is at all when it first appears.

I imagine Sakura having a significant other that's the polar opposite to him when it comes to physical touch - as in they would 100% at any given moment when they're together hold any part of Sakura that they come in contact with. (This boy cannot for the life of him shake off anyone he deems close away, grab his hand and lead him on and he will 100% complain the entire way, but he'll never shake off your hand)

Which means that ever since he did start to date you, he wouldn't even know the meaning of what touch deprivation even is - because not a day goes by when you're not touching him some part of him.

So when a day actually comes when you're not holding onto him, he feels genuinely put off. Something is wrong, but he can't put his finger on it. And oh boy does that clearly show on his face. Sakura is after all - an open book when it comes to his feelings.

He's moody, he doesn't snap and yell like usual - but he only mutters answers back whenever someone asks him something. Even to you - if anything, you would think he's mad at you. He's fidgeting with his hands, tugging at his sleeves and averting his gaze from you whenever you ask if he's okay.

He's an open book yeah, but he won't say a damn thing - pride and all.

It'll most likely be in a scenario where you're surrounded by more people than usual that you hold back a bit on showing affection. But still, you're mostly by his side, talking to him, handing him drinks and heck your shoulders brush against each other every time you laugh at something his classmate had said - you're that close to him.

And yet it feels wrong.

"Oh, Haruka your drink is empty. Want me to go grab another one?" you're not even waiting for an answer before you lean away from the wall behind you to head towards the refreshments table on the other side of the rooftop.

It's only when your presence once again leaves his side that Sakura springs into action, reaching out to barely grasp the fabric of your shirt to hold you slightly back. Puzzled, you turn around with a confused smile, only to be met with an equally confused, but frantic stare from your lover. "Everything okay, Haruka?" you ask again, ignoring the fact that Haruka's gaze is looking all over the place but at your own face.

"Y-yeah, why wouldn't it be?" although he says that, his hand is still grasping onto your shirt. A few seconds go by in silence before you feel a slight tug against them - and suddenly every dot in your confused brain starts to connect on his bizarre behaviour today.

Your eyes soften, and Sakura can hear your quiet chuckle when you turn around to face him, forcing his fingers to let go. But before he can ask what you're laughing about, he can feel himself being pulled into a hug, and he can feel your smile against his shoulders as you pat his back comfortably. "You're so cute, Haruka." he can hear you say through your quiet giggles.

You can hear a quiet "Shut up…" from him, but you can feel the way his posture drastically softens under your hug. But before your duo-coloured lover could wrap his arms around your waist, you hear a low whistle coming from behind you. "Naaw, Sakura-kun was missing [Name]'s touch for the day."

And in an instant you're yanked (gently) away by an arms length with Sakura yelling profanities at a laughing Suo. Well at least he's back to normal.

Suo's never "deprived" per say of your touch - because he's the one initiating it 90% of the time.

He's already physically affectionate. He's usually seen having an arm around your waist when you're peering at something, holding your hand when the two of you go for a walk or leaning over you when you're standing still to rest his chin on top of your head (if you're shorter, if not he'll bury his face into the crook of your neck).

And while you don't mind (in fact often times you lean most of your weight on him if he's standing behind you once you feel his presence) Suo does want you to initiate contact once in a while.

But alas those feelings is rarely shown on his face, always sporting a neutral smile to any situation he's put in - no one can tell that he's a bit more troubled than usual.

But what kind of lover would you be, if you weren't able to spot these miniscule changes in Suo? When he now only briefly holds onto your waist to silently announce his presence beside you before retracting his arm back and when he waits for your fingers to graze against his own before he tangles them together?

You do notice, and Suo also knows you've noticed the slight difference in your otherwise normal habits. How you peer up at him a bit longer than usual when he decides to sit next to you in the library instead of behind you like he usually does so you can rest against him. But he only gives you a wide smile in return to your confused glance.

"You know-" you say with a start, seating yourself down on Suo's lap the moment he seats himself down properly on the tatami floor of his room, your lover only wrapping an arm around your back to make sure you don't topple over. "This is a very elaborate way to tell me you want me to initiate physical contact more often."

"Hmm? Whatever do you mean?" he feigns ignorance, merely tilting his head slightly to the side when you twirl your fingers around the tassels of his left earring whilst resting your head against his shoulder. "Why can't you just ask like any other person for a hug or something?" you question.

"That wouldn't be fun. I wanted to see if you loved the physical touch as much as me, after all." he says, and you raise your eyebrow in confusion, "Me not reciprocating your touches was not an answer?" you inquire, raising your head to stare at him, Suo only giving you a smile that seems a bit too mischievous back while shaking his head.

"Initiating and reciprocating are two different things, dear. Initiating takes a lot more courage after all." you only hum in return, resting your head back on his shoulder before taking a hold of his hand to toy with his fingers, bending the appendages while admiring how smooth his skin was - even with all the fighting he does. "I like it when you initiate contact first though…" you murmur in the end. Suo, who had initially thought you had put the matter of his impromptu idea to the side hums in surprise at your quiet confession.

"Why?"

You shrug, deciding to intertwine your fingers together before resting them on your own lap, smiling softly at how Suo's thumb brush against the skin of your hand. "I don't know either. I just know that it's you whenever someone takes a hold of my hand, you do have the habit of grazing your fingers against mine before holding them after all. It's almost like your way of saying hello before we even make eye contact." you tell, "You always reach out for my hand first after all."

You're not staring at him, still busy looking at your clasped hands - but he still smiles down at your form, turning his head to press his lips on top of your head. "Well with such a sweet reason, who am I to not initiate it more then, hmm?"

He makes it known that he wants your touch before you can even tell he's deprived.

Which means he's never deprived, because when Umemiya feels that he needs a hug, he's making a beeline towards you to engulf you in his arms.

Which means there are two outcomes to this. If you're within his sights and he sees you as soon as he wants a hug, everything is A-OK! Umemiya gets his well needed hug to tackle the next set of duties and tasks he has set for himself for the next 3 hours.

If you're not in his arms within the next 10 minutes of him wanting a hug, he's going to talk to his plants like you've gone off to war and won't come back before the next year. Talking about how much he misses your presence, your favourite food, what kind of seed you would probably prefer, how he's found a new book that you love. At this point feel sorry for the person that has to sit through those 10 minutes of constant love declarations. (Hiragi)

And yes, Hiragi has you on speed dial because of this. It does not matter that you've recently been up on the rooftop spending time with him, it does not matter if you've just gone downtown to get some drinks - Hiragi does not get paid enough for this and he will personally escort you back to Bofurin's leader to make him shut up.

You better clear your schedule for the next hour because Umemiya will have you in his arms before making sure you're well fed and spend time with you. He doesn't necessarily have to constantly touch you then - if he can see you within his vision he's already beaming brighter than the sun in the sky.

"Hajime, you're about to squeeze my entire air supply out." you manage to wheeze out while laughing, Umemiya merely burying his face further into your hair while swinging you back and forth in the air.

"You could've told me that you were going to go shop for groceries for Kotoha! I would've helped." he exclaimed whilst putting your down on the ground again, though his arms were still snugly wrapped around your waist and still keeping you pressed against his front. Your own arms around his back when you noticed that he wouldn't budge from this position anytime soon.

"Last time you helped out, you crushed 2 dozens eggs remember? The townsfolk love you too much too, we would've needed more hands if you came along because of the amount of freebies they would give you. Besides she just wanted a few things and I was already out when she asked where I was, so it wasn't too much trouble to make another round through the town." you replied, stepping side to side while pushing yourself against Umemiya, a silent request for him to move backwards towards the wooden canopy so you both could sit down.

Once seated, you find yourself placed on top of Umemiya's lap with his arms still snugly wrapped around your waist, securing your body close to his own when you lean backwards to properly look at him while talking. At this point Umemiya has gone off tangent, eyes brimming with excitement over what had happened on the day you had mentioned the crushed eggs, only stopping his tangent when you bring a handkerchief up to his face to wipe away the dirt.

"… How long have you been in that position?" an exasperated gruff voice questions, and both you and Umemiya turn over to the entrance of the rooftop to see Hiragi leaning against the door.

"Hiragi! You want some water? Maybe some onigiri? Oh right, [Name] had also picked up some snacks!"

"It's been 15 minutes."

"Good grief, Umemiya, let [Name] go aleady, they're not your personal teddy bear."

Hiragi in general is not a physically affectionate person. He doesn't mind it, softens quite a bit when you grasp his hand whenever you join his group when they patrol the town and relaxes his posture while sinking further down the slope of the couch so that you can rest your head on his shoulder - even if the posture itself causes him a bit of discomfort after.

He's quite content just having you walk by his side - as long as he can see you from his peripheral vision or heck, just hear your voice speak from beside him or behind him, he's content.

He does however have his moments. Although it's incredibly hard to spot because Hiragi himself doesn't mind going days without getting a kiss even.

And even when you do initiate the first touch, he handles you like a porcelain doll - almost afraid you will break. You can hug him as tight as you can, he'll laugh and say he's not going to disappear anytime soon, but the hug you receive back is so gentle and full of love it almost brings you to tears alone.

Hiragi is aware of his position within Bofurin, and the fact that his name carries a lot of weight and is known beyond the town - as such he initiates the most contact when you're alone. And even that is a rare occurrence being that you're both busy most of the time.

As such, even though it's rare - Hiragi will show subtle signs that he wants to cradle you within his arms or hold your hand. A gentler gaze when he addresses you - a more carefree grin when you open your arms wide waiting for him to come to you, but even you can see the slight hesitation.

All in all, Hiragi is quite content and rarely gets touch deprived, but no one is immune to their lover asking for a quick hug, even when you yourself isn't much of a physically affectionate person.

"Can I have a hug? Please?" Hiragi blinks slowly in confusion, takes a look behind him before directing his attention to you. "… Did you have to ask me in a sketchy alleyway of all things?" he finally asks, which makes you laugh, hands still outstretched waiting for Hiragi to take the 2 steps to reach you.

"And here I thought I was going to get a lecture from dragging you away from patrolling." you say, now wriggling your fingers to emphasise your current need for a hug from your boyfriend. "Think of it like an energy boost for the day! I know you've been craving a hug from yours truly for a long time after all, it's been a while since your last recharge!" you add on, Hiragi quirking an eyebrow with a smile.

"You're keeping track of them now?" he scoffs, taking the two steps you desperately wanted him to take, reaching out his own hands to intertwine them with your own before holding onto your wrists to rest your arms on his shoulders. "Hehe, next time I should keep track on how many Gas-kun 10 you take." you can see the roll of his eyes as he wraps his arms around your waist while you lock your own arms around his neck, rubbing your face into his neck to breathe in the faint hint of cologne he dons each day.

The arms wrapped around your waist tightens a bit more than usual, and you can feel the stiffness of Hiragi's form loosen "You're on your lunch break?" he asks softly, to which you nod against his neck, "Mhm, have to go back within 10 minutes if I don't want my teacher to give me an earful again." he hums, giving you one last squeeze before stepping back.

He only pinches your puffed out cheeks, "Don't give me that look, I'll come pick you up after school okay? I think Umemiya misses talking to you as well." Upon hearing that, your eyes brighten immediately before skipping past him out of the alleyway, "Promise to not be late?"

"When have I ever been?"

Another boy who does not know how to function when he's touch deprived! But unlike Sakura, he does know when he is indeed needing for some more cuddles than normal.

But he's awkward, he doesn't know how to actually go on about asking for hugs. Yes in his mind it's logical to just straight up ask you for a hug, or if you can just sit in front of him so he can lean his forehead on the nape of your neck and just breathe in your fragrance. Very easy to do!

Easier said than done. Especially when he's the type to not do anything before you give him permission - yes he's still scared of hurting you even though when he's around you, he's fully in control of his emotions and reactions. But there's always a lingering feeling, you know?

Still jumps in surprise at times when you graze your fingers against any exposed part of his skin, but once he sees it's you - best believe he's holding onto you till someone calls him out.

He's more prone to initiate more contact when you're alone, being that in public he's prone to get teased (whether that's voluntarily by his classmates or involuntarily by Umemiya's comments on how soft he's gotten)

So as a compromise to his awkward self when you're in public, you'll get random visits from Kaji numerous times a week - which is a silent request to just have you in his arms.

Kaji's attention is taken away from his phone when he feels your fingers graze against his chin. Glancing down, he cocks his head to the side while pushing his headphones down to rest on the nape of his neck. "What's up?" he inquires softly, you don't say anything at first - merely directing your fingers towards his cheeks to graze against his skin there.

"Weren't you supposed to patrol today?" you ask, bringing your other free hand to push Kaji's hand that's holding onto his phone to your eye level. "In around 15 minutes yeah, I just left earlier." he answers, his fingers that were absentmindedly stroking your head grazing a few stray strands away from your forehead.

"It already takes 10 minutes from Furin to my house though? Shouldn't you leave soon?" you point out, but instead of rising from his lap to let him get up from the floor, you merely roll to your side to bury your face against his stomach before becoming still - leaving Kaji with both arms in the air, waiting for you to move.

"If you let me go, that is." he finally says after a second of silence, he can feel your slight nod before you plant your hands beside him to heave yourself up from his lap. And in the blink of an eye, you're at eye level with Kaji - his breath hitching at the close proximity.

"Don't come back with too many bruises, alright?" you remind, before slotting your lips briefly over his own. As you lean back you pull his headphones snugly over his ears again, mouthing something that makes Kaji roll his eyes. "You still let me inside regardless, so that threat doesn't work anymore."

Helloooo, it’s really cool to see a new writing blog here!! I always get excited about scenarios/hc, especially when I have hyperfocus. Can I request Furin (Suo, Ume, Sakura, Kaji) + Togame reacting to the reader (gn or fem) looking at them intensely and they ask what the reader is looking at and the reader says "I'm admiring my future husband" (I'll leave it up to you whether this will be in front of others or when they are alone). The reader says it more as a joke (or not?) to see their reaction (although it doesn't sound like a joke)... Just established relationship, they already have a good level of intimacy. I hope this isn't confusing... Stay hydrated and stay well 💚

•⊹💌₊˚✩dear future husband ₊˚⊹♡ w/ the wind breaker boys

✿ featuring: haruka sakura, hayato suo, ren kaji, hajime umemiya, togame jo  ✿ fluff, f!reader (mentions of being called their 'wife') ✿ a/n: hi cutie~ @kuppuru thank you for this wonderful request and for the warm welcome  ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ had so much fun making this, made myself laugh a couple times while writing these silly wb boys aaaa i wanna bite them!! hope you like it! ✿ wc: 1.4k

— you place your hand under your chin, posing all cute and dreamy-eyed, admiring your sweet, handsome boyfriend. when he catches you staring, he asks you why, and you tell him “oh, i’m just admiring my future husband.”

ʚɞ sakura -

“h-husband?! y-you want t-to get married to me!?” his face heats up instantaneously, and you could have sworn you saw a little steam coming out of the top of his head. 

“whenever you react all cute like that, i kinda do!" you exclaim, happily smiling at his crazy and very red reaction.

his imagination goes wild, and a bunch of different scenarios of what sakura pictured married life with you was like began entering his brain without his consent.

“sakura…?” he imagines you in a wedding dress holding a huge bouquet, walking down the aisle towards him, all prim and proper.

“sakura?” he imagines you two kissing as newlyweds in front of all bofurin members (umemiya is of course bawling his eyes out and yes, even his sworn “frenemy” sugishita was there as one of his groomsmen) on your wedding day.

“sakura.” he imagines coming home to you after a long day, you welcoming him back with home cooked omurice, wearing a cute little apron, and warmly embracing him as you ask how his day went.

“sakura!” he imagines going on a honeymoon with you, you two on the bed, your cute voice calling out his name, your fleeting touch caressing him all over -

all over. it was all over, sakura has blacked out. you poke his cheek multiple times, and still nothing.

“guys, sakura has crashed. error 404 unresponsive page.” you called out to suo and nirei, who were observing the whole thing, how sakura gets redder and redder every time you called out his name, and the both of them have probably figured out more or less why he was reacting that way.

“maybe that’s his way of saying, “till death do us part.” suo remarks, and you couldn’t stop giggling.

ʚɞ suo -

he tilts his head and chuckles. a little “oh?” escaping from his mouth. he was certainly curious on what made you decide that you wanted him as your “future husband” or you so claim. it was usually him that pulled some smooth talk like this, so he was surprised that you suddenly became so – bold. 

you were so cute if you thought this would fluster him.

it made him determined to retaliate and play along with your moves, as he found you ever so amusing as always. “my, my, how mature of you. already ready to take the next step?” suo teases. “i’ll be waiting, then.” he smiles. it was your turn to be flustered. you were at a loss for words, as you expected him to be a little playful, but not this much.

“cat got your tongue?” he leans in closer, and his lips capture yours in a chaste kiss. he repeats this at least three times. you tried to lean in for a more passionate one, but suo raises a finger and touches your lips. “no fair, hayato. what are these baby kisses you’re giving me?” you pout. suo looks at you affectionately. “let’s save the mature kisses for when i become your future husband, hm?” 

these kind of one-liners were his specialty. his forte. and you were in his territory, so of course suo, the competitive little devil that he is, wastes no time to put you in your place. 

ʚɞ kaji - 

he looks at you for a moment, as if in deep thought. kaji finally stands and says: “im leaving.” 

you worry that you might have tested his patience for some reason, as you have been trying out some pick up lines on him nonstop since this morning. he was used to your antics, so he either ignored you or waved you off but this was the only time he actually responded.

kaji looks back at you, as if waiting for you to stand up and follow him. “are you coming with me or not?” he extends his hand in invitation, motioning for you to take it.

“where?” you were so confused. kaji clicks his tongue, reaching out and grabbing your hand. 

“to go buy you a ring.” he says, as if it were the most obvious thing. 

you hold your hand up in protest. “wait, what?! i said future, ren, future! and i was joking!” he pretends to have heard nothing, putting on his headphones to tune you out and does not at all pay attention to your explanation. you couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not, but ren kaji was always full of surprises, using metaphors to get his point across, so you just waited to see what he would do. 

he drags you off to the convenience store, told you to wait outside, comes back out with a small paper bag. reaching into it, he opens his hand and unveils a wrapped candy. 

a ring pop.

he puts the ring pop on you, and you admire how the oversized candy diamond looks on your ring finger, almost sparkling in the sunlight. “i’ll get you a real ring in the future, but for now, this will do.” 

you jump up and hug him. he buries his head in your shoulder, trying to hide his small smile. 

you couldn’t stop gushing at how lucky you were and how ren kaji is as sweet as the ring pop he “proposed” to you with. 

ʚɞ umemiya - 

you don’t think you’ve ever seen umemiya smile this big at the mention of the word “husband”. his blue eyes all sparkling and lit up.

the thought of you wanting to marry him in the future or even mentioning it made him so excited, he considers the townspeople and members of bofurin as his family, but of course, you were different. you two already do lots of domestic things together, like helping him tend to his garden, cooking together (you even knew the recipe for his special umemiya soup), tucking him into bed whenever he falls asleep with his glasses on and a book on his face, and of course very intimate things that are only shared between the two of you. you’ve seen many sides of umemiya, but this one is definitely a first.

“oh, baby, the thought of that would make me so happy! i have so many siblings, and now i will have a wife too! now all that’s left is children! i wouldn’t want them to get lonely, so how’s ten?” he picks you up and spins you around, then hugs you tightly. 

“you’re not even my husband yet, and now you want to be a father?!” you giggle, peppering his adorable face with kisses. 

ʚɞ togame - 

he does not utter a word, but togame stares back at you with the same intensity, his bright green eyes making it difficult to look away. it’s as if he has captured you with his soft gaze. 

he mimics your position, his chin also resting on his palm. the two of you now looked like you were having a staring contest, but much closer and much more intimate. 

you blink. “hello? why are you looking at me like that, jou?” you ask him, a perplexed look on your face, waving your hand in front of his face.

“don’t mind me, i’m just admiring my future wife.” he remarks. “and how beautiful she is going to look on our wedding day.” he smiles, almost slyly. he was being so charming lately, always praising you and telling you how much he’s so grateful to be yours. 

you were almost tempted to be the one to get down on one knee and propose to jo togame and ask him to be your husband right there and then. 

Hi there please could i get headcanons for umemiya, suo, kyotaru and togame on what their love languages are/how they display their affection?

Love language - sakura, umemiya, suo, kaji, kyotaro, togame, kiryuu

m.list | rules

Note: omg that's my favorite thing to do !! If you didn't ask I would've done it anyway. Thank you so much for asking ! Also !! We're close to hitting 2k ! Thank you sm everyone, I'm making something for you ♡

Sakura - quality time

He's anxious at the idea of touching you to be honest, he needs time for this but wants to in the end. Yet it's too much for him, so instead he wants to spend time with you. At your place or his, when he's walking around the street. He doesn't even try to touch your hand or anything but he's on alert all the time because he would hate himself if something happens to you.

He shares the things he gets from the citizens with you, so he can spend more time with you and you always look so happy when he brings you those small pieces of bread.

Suo - act of service + physical touch

He can tease the shit out of you, he will always do it while carrying your bag or opening the door for you. He wants you to rely on him, to trust him and if you need anything, to just ask him. He will get it for you. You're scared to come home alone ? He'd gladly walk you home. You need to clear your mind or want to see him when he's already busy ? He's not anymore, and he's going wherever you like with you.

He's subtle about touching you, but he's constantly doing it. It can be fixing your hair with a kind smile when it doesn't really need to be fixed. It's guiding you with his hand on your back or letting his fingers linger on the back of your hand and your arm. He sometimes lets his fingers smooth the side of your thighs if you're sitting next to each other. He just really likes it when nobody can really tell. Unless it's Sakura, then he's all on display, hugging you, touching your cheeks and kissing it.

Kaji - gifts giving + word of affirmation

By gifts, I think he wants to give you things like food or candy and eat with you. He feels better when he sees you smile and accept it gladly. Even more if you're not really into sweets. He makes you a playlist out of the blue, with songs you two might like or even listening to your fav artist even if he doesn't like them to make a playlist with the songs he likes so you know.

He tells you things that seem like nothing serious but you know it means a lot for him. He lets you know that he trusts you, that he feels better and calmer around you or whenever he appreciates something that you do. It gets you all the time, making you blush

Kyotaru - quality time + act of service

He's not big for words, instead he wants to do things with you and for you. He kinda follows you around. When you ask if he wants to do something with you, he always nods and carries your bag or what you brought for you. He likes to come shopping with you, so he can nod when he finds something pretty on you.

He also really likes it when you come around and do things with him ! Including gardening, sadly if you don't really like it. But you know it makes him really happy.

Umemiya - word of affirmation + physical touch

He tells you that he loves you or how good you look all the time. He notices every change and compliments you all the time. He lets you know what he likes the most about you, physically or with your personality. It can go from how you styled your hair to you bringing him snacks during the day ‘cause he forgets to eat sometimes.

He’s a very cuddly guy. He always wants to welcome you with a hug or a kiss - mostly both - and same for goodbyes ! Don’t you dare go without kissing him and squishing his hand in yours. He’ll get sulky. You get shy sometimes at the fact that he spends his time with his arms around your shoulders but at the same time that makes you both feel safe that you can’t blame him. 

Togame - physical touch

He’s on you all the time. He likes to have you close so it's easier to check on you and make sure that everything is alright. He can lay his arm around your shoulders, pulling you to him and nuzzle his nose into your neck or cheek. He loves the fact that it makes you blush all the time. He lays his head on yours or your shoulders too, and closes his eyes. He likes to take naps on you as well ! On your thighs particularly. 

Kiryuu - quality time + physical touch 

He really likes to do his own things with you next to him, but literally. He wants to feel your thighs against his. Or you laying on him/his laps while being on your phone or reading and vice versa. It's his favorite place to play video games. It works too if you just want to cuddle and let him play, so that's perfect. He's always holding your hand outside, no questions. He puts it in his pocket if he feels that your hand gets cold. 

Let me know if you liked it !

𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐔𝐒 : ( wind breaker characters )

a/n : things that my friend does as windbre boys

consist of : fluff, gender neutral reader — small things they do when with you

𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐇𝐈𝐊𝐎 𝐍𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐈, reminds you of those that you forget, it's like a second nature to him already, he knows you very well and that's expected since he thinks highly of you and likes you very much, akihiko is passionate of the things he loves after all. “ah! y/n-san, you forgot this!” hands you the stuff with a bright and proud look, please acknowledge him and give him praises, he'll love that very much. “you can depend on me always y/n-san, please don't hesitate to call me.”

𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐔, whenever you need something, he always has a back up of what it is, call him a boy scout because he does have whatever it is in his arsenal, oh hair ties? he gotchu babe, gum? yeah! oh some chapstick? here you go beautiful. “hm? you need something?” pretty eyes look at you fondly, patiently waiting for your answer. “yeah, here you can have it.” sometimes he would randomly put things in your hand if he thinks you need it.

𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐀 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐀, he watched horror movies even though he's scared shitless—"a moment of weakness" he likes to describe it but his dignity preserves and he toughen himself up whenever he's watching with you. with that being said, taiga is very attentive to you and the scenes. whenever there are scenes that are too much for you, either you tell him or he notices, tauga will cover your eyes and he'd whimper ( he screamed at one occasion ) until it finished. “man! that scared me bad," he looks like a grandpa who just experienced his wife's beating once again, hand on his heart, "we shouldn't watch it again, that is bad for my- i mean your heart!”

𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐎, the moment you said you are interested in something, suo will try to learn of what it is. oh you like games? what games? can you be more specific? you're interested in a certain singer? oh yeah just drop the name and he'll listen to it as well. he's not forcing himself, don't worry, he simply loves it when he can understand you well, plus, seeing you rambling happily about it is a bonus. “that's actually impressive, you know i heard that-” the fact that he knows much about the topic? it just makes you feel giddy.

A Linnet on a Bough [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Title: A Linnet on a Bough [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Synopsis: Isolation takes its toll, and you begin to sleepwalk out of the gilded manor Scaramouche has procured for you. Commissioned piece.

Word count: 3300ish

notes: yandere, married reader, sleepwalking, isolation, unhealthy/controlling behavior 

Being the spouse of a Harbringer is no simple matter, and you are no simple spouse. 

If you had married someone from  your village, your life would be simple. You would do what your parents had done, and their parents had done, and their parents had done. Cooking and mending and minding the children, and living out your days without ever venturing very far, except on rare occasions that would be something you would treasure forever.

You would grow old within the confines of the village and die surrounded by your children, who would bury you near your own parents and go on to live out their lives much as you had done.

But you didn’t marry someone from your village, and your life is not so simple. Instead, you were wed to Scaramouche. Sometimes it doesn’t seem real, even now, and you pinch yourself to make sure you’re not nursing some long standing fever-dream. 

Who would have thought? Certainly not you. Sometimes you wonder if even he expected to ever make such a match. But he told you that he intended to marry you, and let the words hang in the air, to be caught or cut down with your decision.

You said yes. Really, you couldn’t say no… but part of you wanted it. Yes, you can admit that much. It was flattering, and isn’t it nice to be flattered? Especially when you were nobody. Just someone who trudged to the town well to fetch water for your elderly parents, someone who helped a stranger (Scaramouche, it turns out, was not the helpless waif you’d assumed) and got a husband for their troubles. 

So, no, life is not simple. Both in the figurative and literal meaning of the word. 

And now, wife of a Harbringer as you are, you have grown acquainted with--and acquainted is the only term for it, for you could never say you were accustomed to any of it--certain luxuries. Food, to your liking, whenever you would like it. Sometimes it is even brought to you out of season, the greatest luxury of all. Clothing made with rich materials; ribbons, jewels, the softest of slippers to adorn your feet. Servants and pampering the likes of which you had only heard about in your old life. 

But there is one luxury that you are routinely denied, no matter how much you pout your lips, no matter how prettily you ask, no matter how many tears blur your vision and wet your eyelashes: the outside world.

You’re not meant to go outside, Scaramouche had told you, the first time it became clear that you were not going to waltz out of the stately manor he’d brought you to for the wedding in order to take in the scenery. 

And so… you don’t go outside anymore. Not in the traditional sense. You rest in covered litters with the windows tacked shut and he’s not above smacking your hand if you try to lift up the corners to catch a glimpse of whatever (or whoever) waits outside. Of course, when he’s not accompanying you, your pitiful looks sometimes convince one of the guards to let you keep one flap untouched so that you can take a peek.

But seeing flashes of the world you used to live in are not the same as truly being within it. The ghost of a breeze against your half-hidden face is not the same as basking in the sunshine. Hearing the sounds of life from a village as you’re carried through it is not the same as stopping at a market stall to buy a treat, asking someone how their day is going, and absorbing the hustle and bustle of everyone around you.

There is no substitute for living out in the world. 

You just don’t know how to convince Scaramouche of that fact.

--

There is a fine line between gratitude and ingratitude, between obedience and surliness, and Scaramouche finds that you walk it all too well. 

It doesn’t matter how much he takes away; how much he removes the temptation by tacking up screens or keeping you within interior apartments, free from all the noise and sights and smells of the outside. You still want to go outside. Something about it calls to you, pulling on your sleeves, no matter what he does.

He loves to hear your voice, nightingale that you are, but sometimes he is so gravely tempted to press a finger to your lips and tell you to hush. 

No matter how much he tries to occupy your mind with something different. Better. Himself, most often (for you should be grateful for that) but things that no one else could say he gave them. Gifts. Trinkets. Things that suited your interests, which he knew very well, because he hangs onto every word that comes from your mouth.

Even the ones that drive him mad. 

At least until you learn to stop saying things that grate his ears and the space where his heart should be. 

The pleadings that come so softly and sweetly--but if that was all, he could manage. It’s the way that you weave your thoughts into every conversation like a pattern in a tapestry--remarking on the weather conditions in regions that the two of you might be traveling in, asking if the retinue had encountered certain flora or animals during the journey. You want to know about the world; you want to be in the world. 

Little things, little threads, connecting you to a world that isn’t exclusively him… why has nothing successfully cut them from your grasping fingers? 

--

“They only blossom under certain conditions, you know.” Your voice is soft and lilting, carrying on the one-sided conversation over a shared table of delicate foods. You take bites in between your verbal fascination with the local flora, a subject you’re all too keen to share with him. “The flowers are said to be so lovely that people have wept at the sight of them. And the fragrance…” You sigh a little, and pick a piece of fruit to nibble on. “There’s nothing like it. Or so I’m told.” 

A pause. You glance at him, eyelashes practically fluttering, then look back at your dishes. 

“And… I’ve never seen one in person,” you add as you reach for another helping of fruit. “I wonder what they’re like.” 

Do you think he doesn’t know what you’re trying to do? Looking at him so sweetly, asking how he finds the food, interspersing dinner with notions of flowers blooming right outside the borrowed manor the two of you have been living in for this current assignment.

But he won’t give in. He won’t be manipulated, not even by you. 

Still… that doesn’t mean he can’t try to fulfill this hunger of yours. Much like filling a better, a taste should be enough to keep you from grumbling. 

Within the week, he has some unlucky Fatui tasked with the mission of cutting a fresh bouquet of the very flowers that you were waxing on about so prettily. And you wake up one morning to find them on the nightstand next to your bed, set in a clear vase.

He thinks that you’ll smile, and thank him, and if all goes well, he won’t have to hear any more not-so-subtle hints about your desire to go outside.

But you don’t smile and fling yourself at his feet, thanking him for such a thoughtful, fine gift. You don’t tell him that this is all you need--the flowers he gifts you, the clothes he has painstakingly crafted to suit our form and above all, him. 

Instead your hand goes to your mouth, covering the smallest of gasps. 

And, well, he thinks--you’re surprised. That’s all. That’s to be expected., if anything. You did often complain about the monotony of your days, so a little surprise was bound to get a reaction from you. 

But instead of breaking into a grin and thanking him, your hand reaches out to touch the delicate blossoms. Like they’re going to break. More than that--like there’s something wrong. 

“How much prettier they would be in nature…” Your lips curve downward, a soft frown that feels aimed right at him. “I’m sorry that you cut them…”

“What is it?” And if there is a snap in his voice,  you surely couldn’t blame him.  You are so difficult to please, and hiding the fact that he wants to please you at all is a tiring chore all on its own. You exhaust him as much as you fill him.

Sometimes, you make him want to scream.

He’ll take out his pent-up irritation on someone else. Irritation that is not at you, but with you. Yet not with you as well. It’s all a jumbled mess that he doesn’t want to untangle, and he won’t. He’ll shove it down deep into some cavernous hole, perhaps the one that exists inside of him no matter how hard he tries, and move on with his day.

If only you would stop looking at those flowers like they were broken glass.

--

You’re gone. The space that you occupy (the left half of the shared bed, all wrapped in blankets and often clutching a pillow instead of him, a trait he does not find endearing but does not wish to push on) is empty, bereft of anything but cool rumpled sheets.

There’s fear, at first. Fear that something has happened. Someone has taken you. Perhaps it was Her… perhaps She, of all the unholy things, has slithered past his defenses and snatched you up just to snap another piece from his broken patchwork body. 

It doesn’t have to be Her, though. He has many enemies. And enemies will target your weakest point, and you, you, you. You are exactly that to him. 

So there is fear, yes, that you have been snatched away and perhaps you are already dead, and they took you not for blackmail but for some kind of revenge. To see him wither. 

But then he retrieves the lantern from the dresser and lights it, the warm glow illuminating the silent, heavy room. He can feel his breath quickening, his chest tightening, and he doesn’t know why or what to do with any of it.

It only gets worse when he realizes that there is no sign of forced entry. No broken door-locks, no sprinkles of glass on the rugs, no drops of blood on the windowsill to mark where you might have been dragged through.

The fear ebbs away, replaced by a sour, sickly feeling of betrayal. 

You’ve left him. After all he’s given you. All he’s done for you. 

Yes, he’s taken away your freedom, but you didn’t have the capacity to understand why that was not something to begrudge him for. Freedom was not for delicate things that needed to be kept alive, protected, harbored from the rest of the world. 

He clutches the lantern in one hand and storms out of the room, still wearing his night-clothes. The hallways are dim, barely light by small windows that let in a trickle of moonlight. He listens. 

You couldn’t have gone far, and you’d better hope he catches you himself before morning, because if he has to engage a search party on  your behalf, no one (least of all the Fatui stationed with him) will be enjoying it.

He dismisses one of the guards who spots him. He doesn’t want them involved, not yet. He pushes out one of the side doors and begins to walk the perimeter of the grounds. You might have gone off into the forest, or perhaps you went down the paved path, hoping to find a traveler who might help you.

He is about to decide which option to take when he hears something from behind him, near a half-broken brick enclosure that had seen better days. Were you hiding in there? Trying to trick him? He couldn’t put it past you. 

He braces himself, feeling something thrum through him that made him want to turn away and rush forward all at once, and walks through the open gate of the enclosure. 

And… you’re there.

Sitting in the midst of a garden, some untended thing that was left here by the previous tenants, before it was abandoned and absorbed into the network of buildings useful to the Fatui. And to him, for keeping you in one secure location for months on end.

It was wild and overgrown, and some of the rocks creating the garden path were moss-covered. It’s a wonder you didn’t slip on them, he thinks, and there’s a flash of fear mingled with his irritation. How could you do something as stupid as sneak outside at night, in the dark, and walk into some unknown, overgrown eyesore? 

You haven’t heard his footsteps, evidently, because you go on standing. You’re swaying a little, and your hands brush the flowers. He can hear you talking to yourself, something low and sweet. He can’t see your face but it’s easy enough to imagine that you’re smiling. 

“What are you doing?” There was an attempt, in his mind, to keep his voice level. But it quakes anyway, with fury and irritation and that still-sour worry that you betrayed him in the night.

He waits. You don’t turn around. He thought that, when you heard his voice, you were going to jump like a scared little animal and apologize and try to smooth things over with your teary lashes and pouting lips.

But you don’t turn around. And when you answer him, it’s not a word, really. It’s mumbling. Low. Almost a groan.

He’s had enough. He walks forward until he can grip your upper arm, and moves to turn you around. But you don’t pout or jerk away or tell him that you just wanted to go outside. You’re looking straight at him but he can tell right away that you don’t truly see him at all.

You’re… asleep. 

Standing up, eyes blinking rapidly as if in the throes of some waking dream, in the middle of a garden.

But asleep, all the same. 

He presses his lips together. You were a nuisance. Truly. He should leave you here, let you wake up in the morning cold and shivering and covered in slick green moss.

Instead, he lifts you up. You flail a little, arms jerking this way and that, but it’s easy enough to grip you close and carry you bridal-style back down the hallway (the Fatui stationed in the hall is wise enough to say absolutely nothing as he sees him returning) and continues until he can lay you gently down onto your side of the bed.

You gasp, then, perhaps half-waking. But it’s eased enough when your hands instinctively grab your pillow and curl up with it. 

Before heading back into bed, he grabs a fire poker and slides it through the handles of your bedroom doorway. You wouldn’t be getting out, not in your sleep, anyway.

His dreams that night are fitful.

--

The first thing you realize upon awakening is that you’d really rather go back to sleep, because your dream was lovely. You were in a garden, fragrant and lovely. There was cool fresh air on your face and grass under your toes and sounds, real sounds. Birds and insects buzzing and everything that is forever kept on the other side of walls and windows now.

Over breakfast, you smile, and serve your husband his dishes before you tuck into your own. And is it wrong that you want to tell him about your dream? Is it wrong that you hope it will make him finally let you go outside, even just for a little while?

“I had a lovely dream last night,” you say, smiling with what you hope is sweetness and not desperation. “I was in a garden…”

You don’t see the goosebumps that run up his arms at your words.

--

You sleepwalk the next night. And the next. And the next. He doesn’t know how you manage to get the bar off the door every time, how you evade the guards, how you don’t wake him up… but you do. 

Always going to the same place, the damned garden, with its stubborn flowers and broken paths.

Well. If one vase of flowers is not enough to keep you satisfied (and more importantly, inside) perhaps he needs to take it a few steps further. 

He gifts you more flowers. Bundles of them, baskets of them, stuffed into vases and pots and cracked pans his underlings found in the kitchen storage room. 

And while the rooms of the manor are soon a garden, filled with cloying blossoms and greenery that brings its fair share of insects lurking about, it doesn’t make you stop talking about the world that you’re supposedly “missing” out there. 

Not just the flowers, but the animals. The people. The markets. 

The life, teeming with every little thing, good and bad, that makes up this world. 

Most disturbingly of all: The sleepwalking continues.

What more can he give you without giving you the freedom that would break him apart?

--

It’s not that the sound of a bird in the morning is unusual. It’s just that they are normally muffled, as there are no trees near the window of the bedroom.

But the chirping that you hear now is so close that it might as well be in your ear. Groggy, rubbing away the dust of sleep in your eyes, you sit up…

And find that there is a silver bird cage sitting on top of your dresser, next to a wilting vase of flowers from a few days before. 

It’s a pretty thing. Small and  yellow. A pretty thing in a pretty cage. Another gift from your husband, after the mountains of flowers, the wreaths of blooming vines, the meals, the clothes, the comfort…

--

He can never get used to waking up without you beside him. No matter how many times he easily finds you and brings you back, mumbling and bleary, there is always those terrible, agonizing moments of panic when he thinks: you’ve left him.

But you’re not alone in the garden. 

You’re holding the cage, clutching it to your chest. He wonders what will happen if your sleeping muscles dream of something else; will you drop the cage and let it clatter to the ground? Will the delicate bird inside be jostled so terribly that it dies? And what would he do, then, to ensure that this doesn’t make you even less satisfied with your isolated life?

But you don’t drop it. One thing he has learned from watching you sleepwalk is that you are surprisingly nimble about it. 

He watches, lips pressed into a frown, as you slowly lower the cage to one of the formerly ornate pedestal tables in the garden. It must have been pretty once. Now, it’s mossy and gray and damp. 

It doesn’t surprise him, what you do next. Your fingers, shaking but surprisingly deft, undo the latch on the door and swing it open. The bird inside hops around for a few moments, tilting its head to and fro, before it launches itself into the air and flies away.

You mumble something, sweet and slurry. A farewell, perhaps. Who knows what really goes on in your pretty head when you sleep? 

And it’s his cue to take you back inside. You still fight, just a little, when he picks you up. Flail your arms and legs, until he’s held you tight enough that your muscles seem to accept the hold and relax.

He looks down at your bleary, half-awake face. Your eyes tend to close when he carries you. Perhaps your body knows that it’s okay to let them rest, now that someone else is carrying you. Holding you. Protecting you.

A pity that your mind couldn’t understand that fact. 

Sometimes he considers chaining you up at night. It would be the most practical solution. It might even ease his fears every time he wakes to find you gone, and he’s forced to track you down to this nighttime garden that no one else would bother entering.

But there’s something in him, hard and sick, that wonders. If he chains you up, he might just free you in his sleep, like you’ve freed the bird in the cage. 

It’s easier to pretend you aren’t his prisoner when your chains are invisible, after all. 

DRIFTER'S BALLAD. ⋆·˚ ༘ *

synopsis: in which you come whirling into the wanderer’s life like a tempestous storm, bringing pleasant gales in your wake and an unsuspecting puppet under your thrall. (or, alternatively, you end up worming your way too deeply into the wanderer's life that he doesn't want to let go. uh oh)

warnings: 10k words, strangers to lovers!trope, pining, HUGE SLOWBURN, misunderstandings, angst, the wanderer is bad at feelings (the complete package), reader is a traveler but NOT the game traveler and has a hydro vision. aether is the canon mc. i have no idea if this is ooc, mentions of fontaine, some references to scara's past names n titles not really all that canon compliant so sorry abt that lol

mhie's notes: it took me 1 large cup of coffee and a portion of my soul to write this fic and i think im severely delirious rn. honestly hate the ending but fuck it we ball, don't ask me why i randomly decided to churn out this monstrosity because idk it's the wanderer he does that alot, this is definitely my magnum flopus bc i hate it but also what the fuck did i just write. anyways enjoy?????

Sumeru is, quite literally, a breath of fresh air.

The nation of Dendro is nothing short of lustrous, lush, and teeming with life— various aromas of delicacies you’ve never even set eyes upon before; colorful wares the merchants of Sumeru City proudly flaunt, varieties of daily necessities and souvenirs all on display.

Yes, this would be the perfect place for you to temporarily take up residence in.

Once you got used to it, at least.

But trouble always follows the unprepared, especially for someone yet to be acquainted with such a place so humid like Sumeru, and you certainly don’t expect to find yourself robbed the moment you let down your guard sightseeing.

“Hey, hey! Get back here, you thief! That's my mora!”

Your shamelessness admittedly gets you strange looks by the locals there, but you hardly pay them any mind, too focused on actually getting your valuables back and potentially saving yourself from being in extreme poverty. Adventuring was already costly as it is. You didn't need a run for your money.

Just a little more and you could get to that thief… you were so close…!

…So close until you bump into someone at the worst timing known to Teyvat. Already irritated, it doesn't take long for you to direct such anger to said someone, despite knowing just how foolish that notion was. “Ugh! Hey, do you mind?! I was just about to get that damn no good th-”

“-ief…?”

The first thing you notice about the someone that you bump into is that oh, he's beautiful.

Not handsome, no, beautiful. Ethereal, almost. As if his visage was crafted by the very Gods themselves.

And then you notice that hat.

It was huge, clearly not of Sumerian origin, and now that you look closer, his clothing resembles that of certain Inazuman individuals… Right, what was the word again? Shugenja?

He hardly looked the part though, especially with that face. You've always thought monks would've had a kinder face. This guy's face however, seemed stormy. Melancholic, in a way— you can't deny that he is likely the most attractive person you've ever come across in ages.

“Oh, ah-! I'm sorry for bumping into you!” Archons above, your voice was so weak. What was up with you? Did tumbling into some random guy mess with your brain so bad you seem to see him in rose-tinted lenses now?

And was it just you, or did he seem to look forlorn for a moment? He seemed quite aimless, too… maybe missing someone?

That brief glimpse of sorrow fades from his gaze like a flash of thunder, as if it was never there in the first place, and a sigh escapes the beautiful stranger’s lips, mildly displeased. “It’s fine. Watch where you're going next time.”

A pause, before he looks towards the direction of where the thief last scuttled off to, in a rather sketchy corner of the Grand Bazaar. “If you're done staring, the guy you were chasing went that way, by the way.”

...??

“Oh. Oh, right! Sorry, sorry, I have to go… Thank you for telling me though!”

You don't hear his response as you zip past him.

(Oh. Archons. He looked so beautiful. There's heat travelling to your face and you're not sure if that's the adrenaline from running or just a side effect of that eye-catching stranger.)

Although, a small part of your mind can't help but wonder why such a pretty person seemed to be making such a sad face.

── ➶-͙˚ ༘✶ ──

Thankfully, all was well after that encounter with that stranger. Like the heavens themselves answered your pleas, it was just your luck that a matra had spotted the thief, and by extension, you.

Turns out that the thief was quite well-known, having robbed quite a lot of people to warrant himself a top priority capture in the Matra’s jurisdiction. Apparently, he used to be a researcher that fell from grace at Sumeru’s most well-known academic institution, the Akademiya. Really, scholars were quite the odd bunch, weren't they…

Being severely hungry as a result of the chase, you end up going to a certain Lambad’s Tavern and, in a sick twist of fate, you find the stranger there again, sipping away at a cup of coffee, looking like it's no one's business what he's up to.

This time, it's his hat that you notice, not his face. In the back of your mind, you wonder why he didn't take it off. He was already inside the tavern, so why didn't he remove that big hat of his?

(He suits the hat, though.)

You don't know what drives you to move forward, whether it be liquid courage or just because of the way he seemed to be someone you were oddly drawn to, somehow. Even if you've only met him just earlier.

So, with a smile and determination on your face, you approach him, sitting down from across his seat. He visibly stops, and you can see that he's internally weighing whether to drive you out. “You're the stranger from earlier, right? The one who helped me?”

“...” Not a talkative one, is he?

“Y’know, staying silent forever won't stop me from asking. You mind if I can sit here?”

You can see him exhale out a sigh, as if the very notion of answering tires him to his bones. Okay, how rude. “Do what you want. Just keep your voice down. Don't you know people need their peace?”

You raise your brow. “Well, don't you know it's polite to make small talk?”

“Heh, well, sorry to disappoint you, but I don't know, in fact, since I rarely engage in them. Trivial things like that are no use to me.”

“Wow, what a life you must live then, with that mindset of yours.”

He gives you a condescending look. “Yeah, it's great. Perfectly content with this mindset of mine, thanks.”

You should be fuming right now, really. At the sheer audacity of this blue-garbed stranger, at his extremely candid and no filter words. But you aren't. If anything, it was quite charming. “You have a knack for throwing people off, don't you?”

“Hah, that's their problem. You humans can be annoyingly sensitive sometimes, after all.” another sip of his coffee follows suit.

Humans. Was he a non-human then if he seems to exclude himself from that category? What an interesting stranger.

You ask for his name; he's reluctant, letting another beat of silence pass before he gives it to you. Wanderer. What kind of person names someone Wanderer? Maybe he wasn't human after all.

As if sensing the weird look you give him, he noticeably bristles up. “What? Got a problem with that name?”

“No, it's just…” you pause, before you grin uncontrollably. “Pfft, ahahahahaha! What kind of strange name is that? That sounds so cool! Yet so- Er, sorry, how do I say it? Ah, right. Eccentric! That's quite the eccentric name you got there, Wanderer.”

(He tenses slightly. How strange, being reminded of the past in the company of a stranger.)

“With the way you seem so amused by my name, I’d think you'd put me off as some clown on the streets.” he grumbles, but makes no motion to actually be offended by your words. “Your order’s here. Best you compose yourself or you’d make a mess laughing yourself silly.”

“Oh, you're right..!” and indeed, your delicious order of Sabz Meat Stew comes in right at the perfect time, the smell of the mild lemon and aromantic spices wafting through the air in a harmonious blend. You could almost drool at the sight in front of you.

When you accidentally burn yourself by immediately taking a small sip of the stew, there's a snicker from across you from Wanderer, his expression mildly amused.

“Even sturmbeasts have the patience to wait till it isn't hot. If I didn't know any better, I’d say you’d finish that stew in one go.”

You huff. “Well, I'm hungry, so just spare me the clever quips, will you? Or I just might.”

Unbeknownst to you, a strange feeling of nostalgia wells deep within him when he sees you scarf down the stew, albeit quite gracelessly.

There's awe in your expression for such a simple thing, just a broth made from herbs and meat.

It reminds him a little bit too much of the puppet he was before, that starry-eyed face.

What an interesting stranger.

── ➶-͙˚ ༘✶ ──

“Ah! It's you again, Wanderer!”

He can see you scrambling to get to his side, and frankly, he doesn't even know why he ended up here, focusing on the now muddy path in front of him. The rain rumbles on, getting stronger by the minute.

He'd been getting restless as of late, always dreaming, the ghosts of the past being more of a pain lately. Since Lesser Lord Kusanali did tell him to take it easy… even she couldn't blame him if he couldn't help but want to leave the stuffy air of the Akademiya. She'd understand.

Probably.

So here he was, in some corner of Avidya Rainforest, walking through the heavy rain. This was his life now, being a wanderer. To think that he, a former Fatui, a Harbinger at that, would end up writing research papers about how that recluse’s nation ended up is now letting time pass by aimlessly walking through this inconvenient rain shower… truly, he's fallen far from grace.

“Wha-! Hey, don't ignore me! You're going to get soaked..!”

Though with your appearance, he supposes it wasn't a bad decision. Even if his ears hurt from your volume.

“Shouldn't you be worrying about yourself rather than me?”

Unlike him, you were visibly soaked, rain droplets littering the expanse of your form, the water making your clothes cling to you like a second skin. You wave your hand dismissively at his statement.

“It's no big deal. I'm used to heavy rainfall already, on the road and all… and besides, I gave away my umbrella to a merchant passing by before coming here. But in any case-!”

You grab at his wrist, and he could easily shove you away, tell you to leave him be, but somehow, he doesn't. “What are you doing?”

“Getting shelter, obviously!” and just like that, you take him by the hand, hiding under his hat, whirling past the strong breeze, unwavering, running towards the nearest shade you can find. “The both of us will end up soaked at this rate!”

Your hands are warm in his own.

Soft, gentle. So unlike his own cold, mechanically structured joints. A small part of him loathes the sensation.

Human touch reminded him of what he was, after all. Created, artificial. So different from the warmth of your fingertips, of the heart you housed in your body. It’s a bitter reminder of what he had yearned to be, and what he could never be.

And yet inexplicably, the Wanderer finds that he doesn't hate this particular touch.

(How bothersome.)

The two of you find shelter in the form of a huge tree, big enough to block out the temporary rain, and he watches as you gather your bearings, checking your travel bag for any soaked items. He can see that you're diligent, tirelessly taking out the items that seem to be a lost cause, and leaving the ones that seem salvageable to dry near the shade. You even hum a tune while doing so.

Hah, how carefree.

“So, why did you give it away?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Your umbrella. Humans get sick easily, and only an idiot would give up their umbrella in this downpour, so why bother giving it to someone else? They won't even return it.”

He can see you purse your lips, contemplating how to answer his words. Then, you shrug. “Guess I just wanted to. Doesn't hurt anyone if you just wanted to do something good.”

Are you serious?

“But you'd be the one inconvenienced. It's not worth it.”

“Says who? That merchant looked troubled, and if I could help him even with something small as giving my umbrella, then it's worth it.”

How vexing. This unabashed kindness certainly takes him for surprise; You could've easily ignored that merchant, like all humans do, and go on with your life, perfectly dry and dandy. He would certainly do that, anyway. But then again, he wasn't exactly the giving type, and he wasn't a saint. Who was he to judge?

A few moments of silence pass, and even for him, this awkwardness is stifling.

“...Say, do you think it was a bad decision?” he can't discern anything deep in your tone except for the simple desire to keep up cordial conversation. “Giving my umbrella away, I mean.”

“No.” he answers immediately, despite not really knowing why he answered that way. He doesn't even think it was a good decision to give it away in the first place. “It wasn't.”

“Why?” there's curiosity in your voice, and for a moment he seems out of it, plunged into a bygone memory. Why indeed?

(“It’s only natural for people to want to help someone in need. It's in our nature.”

“I'm not exactly.... 'people' though, Niwa.”

A bygone laugh lost time echoes across the breeze.

“Who says you aren't included? Everyone could use a helping hand. Naturally, it applies to those who aren't human too, Kabukimono. But I already did tell you, right?

You're human just like the rest of us, as far as I'm concerned.”)

The voice of Niwa echoes in his mind, a passing thought.

“Its in human nature to want to help people, and because just a simple thing like that meant there was one person who wanted to reach out to you,” a pause, before he adds something far more personal than his normally guarded self would.

“-and because that meant there was at least someone who wanted to help you, even if for nothing in return. Just wanting to do something good. No strings attached.

…It's not a bad thing, at least.”

(This, he supposes, is one of the things that made him long to be like them in the first place.)

You probably wouldn't know just how much it took for him to say these words, just how much your passing words seemed to impact him. You probably wouldn't know either, how saying these words, forcing them out from his artificed jaw had made some part of him feel infinitely lighter. Snapping an invisible shackle from his body.

Making him feel a little more free, in a way.

“Hm.” You fall back into that silence, and he can see you musing to yourself about his words. “Is that what you think?”

??? “I guess so.”

He doesn't see the smile on your face. “You’re a good person, Wanderer.”

Hah. What a joke. Him? A good person? If only you knew. “You shouldn't just assume things about me just because of my words.”

What part about him was good? Humans truly loved to jump into conclusions easily.

(He's a fire, turning everything he cherishes to ashes, and then blaming it on himself. Hazardous to everyone around him. He's nothing like a good person.)

And yet he elicits a laugh out of you, melodious and clear, the sound strangely pleasant in his ears. What audacity.

“Yeah? Well, I guess it's just a feeling. You're pretty blunt, but you have this strange sincerity to you, you know? I like that. It's good, that honesty. It means you can accept the harsh parts of life people normally turn a blind eye to and move forward. That makes you a good person, that type of mindset.”

(Huh. He's never thought of it that way.)

It was still raining. Wanderer can hear the pitter-patter of the droplets from above the tree, gloomy sky overhead. It's sorry weather and this was one sorry conversation, hitting too close to something he thought he had long buried in the dust.

“You’re strange.” he mutters, and you laugh again, smile playing on your lips.

“Thanks, I get that alot.” you snark playfully, turning away from him, already getting back to fixing your things.

The weather was gloomy and dark, but the glow of your smile seemed to overshadow it all.

Indeed, how strange, this conversation.

For the first time in a long, long time, when he dreams, the Wanderer finds that the restlessness that plagued him isn't as suffocating as before.

── ➶-͙˚ ༘✶ ──

“Woah, you can really see the best view here!”

Had he not heard the crunch of the leaves under your feet, perhaps he would've startled, immediately throwing you off with a simple gale from his anemo powers. But you'd probably end up showering him with that stupid hydro vision of yours, so he doesn't entertain the thought, at least for now.

You plop down next to him on the soft bed of grass, one knee propped up to rest your head on. He follows suit, sitting down at one of the vantage points he's come across.

For some reason or another, you both find yourself in each other's company too many times for Wanderer to count. Whether it be from him passing by you in Sumeru City, or spending time at Avidya Forest and seeing you help around with those Forest Rangers, he certainly has seen quite a lot of you these days.

Whenever you do cross paths, he gets dragged into unsavory situations like helping out the people in Avidya Forest, getting a meal at some tavern you introduce him to, ever spontaneous with the incessant conversations about the mundane that he can't help but indulge in.

It has gotten to the point where he begrudgingly accepts the title you bestow upon him as friends.

Ridiculous, unnecessary. He didn't need a human connection, not now, not ever. Why the hell did he not rebuke you? He's received titles that are far more intricate and complex than you could ever imagine, ever comprehend.

(He won't say that he actually does enjoy it, being someone you consider your friend.)

You talk about your travels, about the nations you've been in, about damn almost everything possible. He's never enjoyed chatty humans, but your presence exudes comfort in some way, one that he can't help but return to, despite all his complaints and grumbles about it. He can bicker with you all he likes, spout insults upon insults from his lips, and you'd still see through him anyway, calling him out on his true intentions.

(“You know, you're kinder than you give yourself credit for.”

“That's ludicrous. Did the daydreaming rot your brain too much?”

“You say that, but if so, why are you so insistent in helping me with these simple things?”

A cart full of Zaytun peaches in his hands and yours. A commission for more mora. Your commission. He could've let you do it yourself. So why?

Both of you know why, but the puppet you've come to be endeared with is far too prideful to admit the true reason.

“That's... It was just in a whim. That's all. It's nothing like what you think it is.”

“Heh, sure, whatever you say, Kuni.”)

Whether you've intended to or not, you've glued yourself by his side to the point where he doesn't even know when there's a day he hasn't heard your enthusiastic voice talking about who knows what, and somehow, he finds that he doesn't tire of it at all.

If anything, your presence by his side is like a refreshing breather from everything in his life.

You've helped him immensely, despite the fact that it likely took you a great many times trying to break through his demanding and standoffish nature. For that, Wanderer truly does feel grateful for the fact that you chose to stay by his side despite how prickly he often lauds himself as. It's beneath him, it should be, it is.

(You've made it clear that he can easily get out of this strange arrangement as he sees fit, but even if it came to, the Wanderer can't find it in him to complain. He never does.)

In the duration of your time together, he finds that being the subject of your attention and companionship is something he takes great pleasure in, amugness and haughtiness aside. And frankly? He's firmly attached to it now, and he's sure as hell he's now unwilling to let such an addictive and warm feeling slip by his grasp.

…Maybe Buer wasn't so foolish about this whole companionship thing after all.

(“We’re friends now, you know! Companions, whatever you wanna call it.”

He can see the mirth on your face, the upturn of your lips. He can hear your laugh, and he can almost see your eyes crinkling around the corners. He didn't answer then, only turning his hat away from you to hide his face which houses a smile he’d rather not show you, given your teasing nature.

“Hmph. What childish whims you make me take part in.”

He'd also rather not show you how red his face was, but that was besides the point.

“Aww, you're shy! Hehe, I knew you weren't all gloomy and sarcastic! Come on, let me see how much you like being called my companion!”

“...Be quiet or I’ll take back my words.”

Laughter peals out of you, and the sound makes his smile just a tad bit bigger.

Your friend. Your companion.

That wasn't so bad.)

Out of all the humans he's come across, he thinks you're the most bearable.

The soft glow of the setting sun paints a picturesque view of Sumeru’s forest, amplified by the soft blend of reds, yellows and orange which makes the sunset look even more wonderful. Your hydro vision glints by the angle of the light hitting it, situated near your heart. Similar to his vision’s own placement, he notes with satisfaction.

The occasional breeze passes through as well, making your hair all messed up.

(Endearing.)

“Guess you were right. It is quite pretty here.” You continue, again, smiling at him with that irritatingly dazzling smile as you turn back to the sunset. Something in him stirs.

“The view is... bearable at best.”

He can see you scrunch your face in feigned irritation. “Jeez, just say you agree!”

Wanderer doesn't respond, content to drink in the comfortable silence between you two.

Indeed, for all his wandering, he'd come across many sights that were quite tolerable, a fact that you would understand most, being of similar standing as a traveler. This view in particular better than the rest, he muses.

You look good with the setting sun in the background, lighting your skin aglow. Not that he'd ever admit it to your face or else he'd probably face even more teasing from you, irksome terribly nosy as you are.

You both stay that way, watching the sun descend below the horizon, melting away like a soft flame, the darkness of the night soon to come.

“Hey, Wanderer?”

“What is it this time?” Masking it with feigned irritation, he hopes the fondness of his expression doesn't reach your eyes.

“Thanks for showing me such a pretty view.”

The Wanderer turns to you, the words he painstakingly garnered after internally warring with himself die on his lips, seeing you watch the blood red sun soon disperse, leaving the flickering embers of reds and orange in its wake.

The view, huh?

Yeah, it wasn't so bad.

---

“Oh! Welcome back. You stayed out quite late. Did you have a good time with [Name]?”

Nahida’s gentle tone greets him when he returns. She knows of you, given how frequently you've visited the Sanctuary of Surasthana to bother the ever so aloof puppet. The Sanctuary is relatively quiet, save for the occasional light noise of Wanderer's geta sandals as he descends down the steps.

Night has long graced Sumeru City, the pitch black darkness encompassing the nation, but the lights down below still find that the City itself is still bustling with life, likely soon to close up as the people get ready to rest after a hard day's work.

“It wasn't anything special.” she looks at him quizzically, intent to seek a reaction from the ever so guarded puppet.

It's only when she gets close enough that she stops, a small, knowing smile creeping up her face.

“It was just to see the sunset for a few minutes.”

There, from a miniscule glimpse from behind his face does she notice it.

The red on his cheeks that's all too similar to the shade around his eyes.

── ➶-͙˚ ༘✶ ──

It's been a while since you and the Wanderer have graciously known each other (his words), and to her most eager surprise, Nahida finds that it seems you've changed the puppet for the better.

He's visibly less prone to snapping at people, more mild-tempered (which is a huge improvement in her book) and can even hold conversations with others more— granted, only if she or you were there.

Of course, he still actively avoids delving into the trivialities of mortals, but is content to stay in your company.

His thesis and research papers have seen the light of day more often too, being given to her days early in advance when he normally would've waited till the deadline to submit them.

(“I see that your productivity has increased with regards to your academic endeavors. That's good news!

If I may, what’s with the change of heart?”

She could see the Wanderer scoff, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms, defensive. Like a cat with its fur on end, she likens.

“That's not your business to be concerned about. Besides, aren't you glad I'm finally putting up with this tiresome activity you've given me to learn more about myself like you wanted?”

“Anyway, just take it already. I just-” he'd sputtered then, so uncharacteristic of his normally apathetic nature, tipping his hat low away from her as he hands her the stack of papers.

She doesn't miss the pink hue splattered across his face. The sight is familiar.

“I'm in a hurry to meet someone, and these boring research papers will end up making them wait for me even longer. Need I say anything else?”)

In fact, by the way he's acting lately— the constant hovering around you under the guise of simply going out of the Akademiya to gather research material, the various times she's caught the both of you asleep, shoulder to shoulder in the corners of the House of Daena, scribbles of shared notes and books around you two, the way the Wanderer seems more keen on interacting with you than others…

The rumors that seem to point to him spending much more time outside the Akademiya, and sightings of him across various parts of Sumeru with a certain someone.

And to hit the final nail in the coffin, the final puzzle piece of the dichotomy of the puppet she's harbored in her tutelage, she even caught him making a certain something with great care that's normally atypical of him, clearly tailored to the taste for a certain someone.

Yes, by the information at hand, she could even say that the Wanderer is….

No. She shouldn't jump to conclusions just yet. Wisdom came with knowledge, and she didn't have sufficient knowledge to prove whether her hypothesis was correct.

The wisdom she's gaining here is still invaluable despite it being an arbitrary decision she had just thought of; She had nothing to lose here, and this would bode well in order for her to understand the workings of the puppet once called the Balladeer.

A creak of the Sanctuary’s doors alerts her to the appearance of someone coming inside.

“Nahida…?”

Ah. Perfect timing. It seems she’ll get the answers to her questions today.

“[Name]! What a nice surprise. What brings you here? Is the Wanderer giving you any trouble?”

The shake of your head is vehement, and you're quick to defend the prickly puppet at once. “No, no way! Well– Not too much trouble, anyway. You know how he can be.”

She smiles at that, slightly relieved at how earnest you answer. As expected, you were truly a sweet one, and she can tell why the puppet is intent on sticking by your side. “I see. Then, a friendly chat? If that's the case, feel free to chat with me. We're all friends here, after all.”

“Well… Yeah, about that.” Your expression is sheepish, a little meek. She keeps a mental note of the small color adorning your cheeks. “I wanted to ask for some advice. You know? For me- I mean! For a friend! Yes, for a friend, haha…”

“A friend?” she can play along with this if it meant she would gain insight to her current predicament. “Well then, ask away! Please tell me what this friend of yours needs advice on.”

A deep breath from you, willing yourself to take out the words lodged in the back of your throat.

“Say, Nahida. What would you do if you realize that someone who you've recently spent a lot of time with makes you feel… well, makes you feel, you know.”

Oh?

The God of Wisdom can almost giggle at the way you're trying to get your words to make sense, stringing them together in an instant. When you've clearly mulled it over enough, Nahida cranes her neck to hear your voice.

“Mm? What was that, [Name]?”

You take a deep breath, and spill everything to her.

By the time you exit the Sanctuary of Surasthana, she's trying hard not to fight but a grin on her face, and ultimately falls short.

There's only one final conclusion she's came to, and the puzzle has already come together.

Now, she wonders, if her conclusion was indeed right, how would it go from here? Once she'd understood the situation at hand, she'd given you just a small hint at the feelings she knows is simmering beneath the normally composed Wanderer, and hopes that you'd do well with such information.

This time, would a puppet such as him accept what was to be offered to him? Or would he turn away from it, as he always used to do with what he truly wished to have?

Truly, there were still many questions in this world that needed answering, and this was no exception.

---

“Are you done speaking with Buer?”

The puppet with the huge hat is by your side the instant you exit the Sanctuary. Instead of the usual exuberant energy, the you he's greeted with seems more quiet.

What did that damn god do? He swears, if she had even offended you in some way, he'd–

“....” Still quiet.

“Hey, have you grown mute or something? Look at me.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. We talked. Just about… something trivial. About my travels, that's all! Don't waste your time thinking about it, Kuni.” you're visibly out of it, but you flash him a smile as you always do, immediately heading back to the City.

He's unconvinced that was just the content of your conversation, given that God's need for constant information. He might as well say it. She's more nosy than she gives herself credit for, so he rather hopes you didn't give in to her (most likely) constant questioning.

“Well, if you say so.” immediately turning on his heel and moving, he misses the look you send him, and the words you utter under your breath.

“Yeah, maybe I should trust Nahida.”

“You've always been good at looking past the surface, [Name]! I'm sure this time is no different.”

“Still, what if I thought wrong? What if he simply sees me as his companion, or like, a confidant, and not-”

“That's unlikely. I'm certain he feels the same. But it's always better to try.”

“Well, you're right about that. Are you really, really sure he'll respond the way you think he will?”

“You'll do great regardless of the outcome, you know. Even if things will change between you two because of your decision, the Wanderer will appreciate you regardless. You've been a huge solace to him. Knowing him, he won't let you slip through his grasp easily.”

It's silent for a moment.

“I sure hope you're right.” an exasperated, fond sigh escapes your lips. “Really, he can be so confusing sometimes. Guess that's part of his charm.”

“Hehe, that I agree. You'll definitely do well, [Name].”

“Thanks, Nahida.”

You're having second doubts about what you're doing, each step nearing the Sanctuary of Surasthana you've no doubt the Wanderer is in right now. He'd never willingly go anywhere else on his own accord unless it was here, after all.

In your hand, the small glint of the present you've prepared for a certain someone gleams, spotless and pristine. A lotus pin. Its petals contain liquid resin and encased in it, a real Nilotpala Lotus, the colors resembling the shade of the Wanderer's eyes the reason why you picked it in the first place.

(You hope he likes it.)

Aside from the pin, there's also the letter containing your heart— rather, the feelings that have threatened to burst ever since the day you've come across that beautiful puppet with the strange, strange name. The one you’ve considered to be the sole captor of your attention, and not long after, your adoration.

Ah, what's the point in lying to yourself? From the moment your eyes met those blue-indigo ones, you knew you stood no chance in the feelings that soon enveloped you.

It took some time to get over once you've realized it, the subtle shift of you and the Wanderer’s dynamic growing to be more and more difficult to ignore as you both spend time together.

Just how deeply have you begun to feel for this puppet, longing to be able to see all the sides of him?

His joy, his melancholy, his anger, his arrogance, his haughtiness…. The sides he condemns and holds in a tight grip, and the softer parts of himself which he desperately tries to hide.

How he always seems to be more patient when dealing with children or the elderly on your encounters in Sumeru City or Avidya Rainforest, how his words betray his true intentions, how he’s far more human than he ever believes himself otherwise, being the most caring person you've ever come across, in his own weird ways.

Every second you spend with him, you see even more parts of himself that he bares before you, trusting you to accept it and stay by his side even then. And you do.

You're completely and utterly enamored with him, it's terrifying.

Sumeru was just supposed to be another next stop for you. Being a traveller, partings and meetings with others were transient, fleeting. You didn't expect to feel the growing attachment to this fragile yet untouchable puppet swell until it consumed you.

(You didn't expect to care for him this much, to fall for him this deeply.)

He calls himself someone beneath such simple feelings, but you can't help but hope that perhaps he has grown to care for you as well, in one small corner of his heart.

He may say that he doesn't have one, a homage to his inhuman origins, but you're not buying it. How could you believe him, when all his actions proved otherwise?

You remember when he first opened up to you, a small sight into what made up his entire being, a glimpse behind those stubbornly unreachable walls he's conjured up to protect himself. The both of you were high up in one of the huge trees that only the rainforests of Sumeru can boast, under the canopy of leaves.

He'd been standing, looking at the stars with that same stormy expression you had first seen on him the day the both of you had first encountered each other.

You'd been in awe of the twinkling stars high up in the sky, to which the Wanderer had responded with his normal apathy, immediate nitpick about your supposed ‘simplemindedness at mere balls of gas in the heavens’. It had escalated, a conversation about the stars slowly turning in the direction of fate, and eventually towards questions about yourselves.

(“So I can call you by that name? Kunikuzushi?”

Even though you tried to hide it, there'd been an unmistakable grin on your face. He'd finally told you at least some part of his past! Perhaps this would lead you two to get closer.

And maybe….

Wanderer– Kunikuzushi, rather, crossed his arms, giving you a deadpan look. “You're so happy about that. It's just a name. Use it if you want to. Calling me Wanderer all the time is way too troublesome.”

“Troublesome? I don't think so, though? And of course I'm happy! Finally, here I thought you'd never tell me anything about yourself. This is cause for celebration, you know.”

“Hardly. Only simpletons like you would find it fit to be celebrated, but the sentiment is admirable.” Adorable, hiding his face beneath his hat. The small peek at the normally straight line that is his lips turning upwards tells you all you need to know.

“Riiight… In any case, Kunikuzushi is too long!” he grimaces at that. If it had been anyone else, he probably would've smited them for the slight insult. You aren't just anyone, though.

“So, can I call you Kuni?”

He takes his time weighing the option whether to be dissatisfied with the nickname or not, but in the end, ultimately decides the latter.

“Do whatever you want.”)

Whatever the case, you've already been persuaded by Nahida to tell him about your feelings.

You weren't going to run away from this. You won’t. You were going to give it to him. You were going to give it. Don't be a coward, [Name], this won't hurt anyone at all, and Kunikuzushi—

“What are you talking about, Buer? It's nothing like that.

....Look, they're not that important as you think, you've thought wrong. [Name] is just....”

The Wanderer's voice echoes loudly, irritated. And he's pissed, judging from his tone. Hiding near the steps to the entrance the Sanctuary of Surasthana, you can't help but listen in. Was he arguing with Nahida? And a mention of your name...?

“Are you sure? Because I thought—”

“Well, you thought wrong. There's no way I'd be attached to someone that's as troublesome as them, who can't even learn to take a hint that I don't want to be bothered.”

Huh?

“But, [Name] is a good person. They've clearly helped you immensely, and if you keep ignoring their impact on you, then…”

“They’ve done nothing. They're just– Look, whatever foolish flight of fantasy you've conjured in your head about me and them, it's nothing. Don't bother trying to refute me, because it really isn't anything.”

You hardly pay attention to Nahida's response, too busy trying to steady the emotions currently rushing through your body.

Normally, you’d immediately question his words, chalking them up as him just wanting others to stop prying into his business.

But the sincerity in his words, the finality of it- Was that what he really thought? You thought he at least appreciated your presence. Not… not this. You feel like your chest is threatening to burst.

Did you really mean nothing to him? Was all that time you've spent together really nothing?

You don't know. In fact, now that this riveting declaration he'd given had come to light, all you know is that you don't want to be here right now. He's talked about betrayal before, something in his past. He didn't divulge too many details, but you knew it wounded him deeply.

Now, though? you can't help but think it was you that had been betrayed.

To think that all this time….

Whatever traces of your earlier enthusiasm has died and snuffed out like a flickering candlelight. If he were to spot you now after you know how he truly feels about you, would you be able to face him?

There's only one answer. You can't.

You needed to get out of here, and fast.

So you did.

── ➶-͙˚ ༘✶ ──

When the Wanderer goes to the spot you two meet up frequently and doesn't find you there, he's mildly displeased.

His pride was far too big to quantify, so normally he would've brushed this off, but it was you. You, the only person he'd even relatively opened himself to.

Ever-present you, who he's grown to care for in more ways that he can admit. You, the person he can't help but be drawn to, the one being who's been on his mind far too many times to count. The one who's shown him that in this damn world, there were things that were worth something.

That he was worth something. Worthy of attention, companionship, and all the good things you've brought to him.

He shouldn't be feeling this way, because he really shouldn't. It was just a day without you, how hard could that even be?

But the sting of slight hurt can't help but surface at you not showing up at your designated meeting spot.

You don't show up the next day.

Or the next.

Or the next day after that. And the next day after that day.

There's a sinking feeling in the void where his heart lies, bitterness that can't compare to the coffee he takes in that stupid Lambad's Tavern.

Without the constant rambling of a certain someone inadvertently making his days lighter, his routine has grown as dull as it always has, now that you've left the picture.

(He despises this feeling.)

Ah. Again, someone else had left. You left. Left him just when he was so close to realizing the fact that maybe, this transient connection between you two should be something he could care for, that he was allowed to foster; Something that the Wanderer could finally hold dear.

What a joke.

Though his mind had long cemented the idea that you had indeed left him in the dust as all mortals he'd cherished had, some idiotic, hopeful part of him thought otherwise.

Would you really leave him without warning?

Without good reason? As much as he would like to say to himself that yes, you would, for fate has never been kind to a puppet such as he, always taking what he cherishes away from his grasp, deep down, he knows you wouldn't do that.

The [Name] he knows isn't like that. You could be mischievous, insufferable, stubborn to a head-ache inducing fault, but you weren’t someone who would leave without a reason.

You upheld your beliefs to a strict standard, too tough on yourself sometimes that he finds it irritating, and always so easy to sway. As much as he'd like to disagree, he knows you too much, so much that he undoubtedly believes you wouldn't leave without a reason.

As for why… There had to be a reason why you suddenly thought it was best if you would spend less time with him. Rather, that you stopped spending time with him.

Was it because of his personality?

Immediately, he chuckles humorlessly. Hah, don't be an idiot. If that was why you'd left then you would've left a long time ago.

Then…. something he’d said to hurt your feelings? He doesn't recall anything of the sort so why—

Oh. Oh.

(“Well, you thought wrong. There's no way I'd be attached to someone that's as troublesome as them, who can't even learn to take a hint that I don't want to be bothered.”)

Curse his traitorous tongue.

Immediately as his hopes had risen, they were crushed by the steady, disgusting realization that because of that one conversation with Lesser Lord Kusanali, you had deemed yourself unfit to stay by his side like he's secretly been wishing.

He didn't mean it.

As realization festers like an ugly weed poisoning his mind, it's fear that spikes him like little pin pricks all over his consciousness, before desperation takes over and worsens his already crumbling thoughts. He didn't mean for you to hear that. That wasn't what he meant.

Again, someone he held dear had been stripped away from him and it was all his fault. Again, he was the fool, the puppet that hoped for too much.

(“Nothing is so broken that it can't be fixed.”

“What kind of useless advice did you pick up on your travels? What a joke.”

“Hey, just so you know, I actually believe in this saying! After all, it's true. And it's a wonderful statement, don't you think?”)

“Nothing is so broken that it can't be fixed.” he murmurs to himself like a mantra, and though he tries to stomp it out, he can feel the rush of adrenaline pumping his mechanical joints, willing him forward.

He had to apologize. At least, clear up what you had heard that day, tell you that no, that wasn't what he meant. It wasn't what he meant at all.

This was selfish of him, truly, and he won't deny that perhaps he doesn’t deserve to face you, but who cares?

He's grown far too deep into this bond with you that even if Celestia itself had threatened to tear it apart, tear you two apart, he'd use every part of himself to resist, to tie back those broken strings, damn pride forgotten in the winds.

If it wasn't salvageable anymore, then he'd make it so that it is. He'd tell you that he didn't think you were a bother, or that you were just a simple passerby in his long life.

He'd tell you that he’s sorry, that you were more than those things, that you've been more than just a simple companion to him for a long time already. That you've been more than that for a long, long time. If you would allow it, he'd tell you that he—

No. He needs to focus on finding you first. That can wait until after he sees even a glimpse of you.

Now that he has a clear goal in mind, the Wanderer works with a brutal efficiency that he once harbored, back when he held the title of the Balladeer.

Though that version of him is long behind him, if it could speed up the process of finding you, then he'd use it.

He'd use any means necessary right now.

So, he heads to your residence, determination filling his body and a simple outcome in his sights.

── ➶-͙˚ ༘✶ ──

“Are you sure about this, [Name]? You said you really, really like Sumeru… Maybe you should really think about it more! You might regret it if you don’t!” 

Paimon’s voice is sympathetic, and clearly because of how haggard you looked. You thank the heavens she and Aether don't question the tear stains on your face. 

“Sorry, Paimon, but I’m sure. I’m not changing my decision.” your voice is a little hoarse from the crying from earlier and probably the day before that, but you put on a brave face to reassure the floating girl. “And right now, I'd think a trip to Fontaine is much better than staying in Sumeru.”

Aether and Paimon look at each other, concerned looks on their faces. It warms your heart, despite the fact that you don't know them all too well and just decided to tag along when they mentioned they were headed off to the Nation of Justice. 

You've only heard about Aether in passing, often talked about by the very reason you had even left the Land of the Dendro Archon. The hero of Mondsdat, the outlander, Sumeru’s savior, the endless titles leave you reeling even still. If it were any other day, perhaps you would be taken with him, someone you admire immensely in the flesh.

Too bad your heart is still stuck on one particular puppet. Really, what luck, falling for the one man (puppet) who was as untouchable as he was prideful.

This wasn’t you coping, no, but now that you think about it, this outcome wasn’t something to be surprised about. The Wanderer had made it clear his view on human relationships. It was you who had simply assumed that perhaps like those cliche light novels you’ve come across, maybe there could’ve been something else born out of the companionship you and the Wanderer shared.

“Just know that you’re always welcome to travel with us.” Aether says simply, giving you a simple smile. Luckily, you find it in you to smile back, just a bit. You’re really grateful for them.

But then your mind wanders, back to your residence, back to the contents of the conversation you’ve heard out of Kuni’s– Wanderer’s– mouth. Fine. If this was what he wanted, you stopping to bother him like he so loudly explained– then he’d get it.

The gift you’d made for him, the letter. Just thinking about it made you want to sink into a hole and just never come out.

(Maybe he’d come looking for you. Maybe he’d miss you, feel the depth of your absence like you do for him. You wish he does. You hope he does, really. You were really a goner.)

Looking at Port Ormos’ docks, watching the boat that’ll take all three of you to Fontaine get closer as you begin to forcefully open a new chapter of your adventures, your heart can’t find it in you to be excited at all, although normally you’d be thrilled at the idea of even visiting a nation you’ve been unfamiliar with. You’d probably be chatting away with Aether and Paimon right now, asking about the food, the best sights, everything.

You should be doing that. It’d give you a reason for your mind not to wander and think about the crippling weight of your decision and the feelings that are still very much stirring up within you, with the cause being a certain man with a large hat.

Ugh, could you even stop thinking about him? For all you know, Kuni might just happen to be around the corner and—

“And just what do you think you’re doing now, hm? Intending to leave after you so carelessly hadn’t informed me? Didn’t you say that we were companions? I get that you tend to be forgetful, but even so, this is too much.”

Oh my god.

You’ve never whipped your head around so fast, turning your body towards the source of that familiar, arrogant tone. Lo and behold, speak of the man and he shall appear. What in the world was he doing here? He looks like he’s about to murder someone right now. You hope that someone isn’t you, but there wasn’t anyone else he was looking at dead in the eye, so that’s all for your hopes.

(And why did you feel so relieved? Get a grip on yourself, you fool! This wasn’t a damn tragedy movie.)

From the corner of your eye, you can see Aether and Paimon giving you two strange looks. You can't blame them. It was weird seeing the normally unbothered Wanderer in the company of someone other than Nahida.

Nonetheless, you face him straight in the eye, eyebrows raised and defiant. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at Sumeru City?”

He tries to answer, but you can see that he falters momentarily, and that seamless face of his morphs into something that– you hope you weren’t imagining it– something that you can only plainly describe as regret, that in which you can’t help but feel an inexplicable pang in your heart.

Then, you notice it.

Pinned above his vision, with the golden feather he seems to carry with him everywhere. The lotus pin. Right, you’d left it at the inn you were staying in, not wanting to see it again after… Wait a moment, he’s wearing it.

You've hardly the time to feel elated when you feel it. A tug of your hand. You try to remove it from your own, but you’d underestimated the strength he harbors in that lithe body of his; he’s pulling you to the side, immediately heading in the opposite direction. For a moment you’re almost swept into the visage that seems straight out of a romance novel, his hand firmly in place in yours. “Wh-! Hey, Wanderer, wait…!”

Only when you’ve both crossed a specific distance from the docks and in a rather sketchy alleyway with no prying eyes to bother you both does he see fit to let go of you, stopping abruptly that you almost bump into him had it not been for his hat.

It's almost ironic. You'd first met him in an alleyway not too dissimilar to this, and now you're both in another alleyway, this time not as strangers, but as two individuals who have wormed their way into each other's lives so deeply that the presence of the other bleeds, so entangled and mixed into the life of the other in a manner that allowed something far more personal to fester like ink bleeding into a blank canvas, unable to be scrubbed away.

“What were you thinking?”

Is he actually asking this now? What’s more, not even sparing a single glance at you. Honestly, you’ve had it with him. If he wanted to play this way, then so be it.

“What am I thinking? What are you thinking?” you hiss, crossing your arms. “I was just heading off to a new destination of mine, like all travelers do. Yet you act like it’s the end of the world or something. If anything, aren’t you glad I’m not here to bother you anymore?”

“'...So you did hear me and Lesser Lord Kusanali’s conversation. I knew it. Tell me, what else did you hear?”

“That’s… none of your business. Now leave me be, the boat’ll be arriving soon and I don’t intend to be late. Unless you’re purposefully trying to stop me?” 

A smirk from him. So he still had the gall to look haughty? “What if I am trying to stop you? What would you do then?”

“Then I’d run away.”

“You know I’m faster than you, right? Or are you forgetting I can use my vision to keep up?”

“So? It can’t hurt to try. Who knows, maybe I’ll use my vision to walk on water to escape you. That'd be a sight to see.” you say, stubbornly sticking to your stand. “Enough bickering, Wanderer, let’s just save the small talk and get to the point. Why are you really here?”

Again, that look of regret flashes across his face. “....”

You wait for him to speak. When he doesn’t, you immediately turn away back to the direction of the boat. Of course that gets him talking.

“I didn’t mean them. The things I said to Buer, it- it wasn’t…. I really didn’t mean it, [Name].” there’s urgency in his voice, a hint of desperation too, one that seemed almost at the edge of tipping over. “Believe me, I didn’t mean them, I swear.”

You aren’t ready for this right now. “Then why say it in the first place? To Nahida, too…! I can’t possibly believe that you didn’t mean them.”

“I’ll keep saying it till you believe it.” the intensity in his voice is firm and determined, surety in it that makes you feel warm from head to toe. Dangerous. He really doesn't know just how much he affect you.

“You’re more than just a companion to me.”

── ➶-͙˚ ༘✶ ──

Please, self-control. Do not be swayed by that face.

But the softness in his tone when he says these words inform you of the sincerity of what the Wanderer is trying to convey, the nature of his words right out in the open, unmasked and raw, bearing itself to you. Genuine regret and guilt fill his expression, and if you decide to look closer, you can see it. The small outline of tears from his eyes.

You can’t look at him. You can’t, or else you know you’re going to be a goner.

“How do I know that’s not a lie?” you challenge, voice small, sneaking a peek at him. There’s a breathless chuckle from him, as if endeared by the thought. The expression he holds right now leaves your mind utterly blank, the fondness in it, the affection seeping from his eyes in waves, a fact that you notice firsthand. You always notice.

“Do you really always have something to say at a time like this?” his words lack bite, amused more than anything. “Then, if you don’t believe me…”

He draws closer to you, close enough that you can push him away if you so desired. You can see him look at you momentarily, a silent question. When you don’t refuse, however, he seems satisfied, and takes it as a signal to proceed.

“I’ll just have to prove it.”

What was happening? Hold on, was he really going to—

His touch is cold, but comforting. Thumb brushing against your jaw, to your lips. So softly, and so lovingly it leaves you in a mess, face burning. You can feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the spot he’d held with such care still smoldering in its wake. He cradles your face in his hands like it was you that were precious porcelain, but he doesn’t close the distance like you’ve envisioned.

Instead, you find that there’s hesitance in him, a line he desperately tries not to cross, not from repulsion, but fear. Fear that this was all a dream, that it would be taken away from him in a heartbeat. Fear that you would be taken away, whisked into an unfortunate end like so many others he held dear. Fear for what it meant if he embraced the tempest of feelings he’s long harbored for you.

Fear for what it meant if he held you.

It’s this very fear that’s brought upon the teardrops falling down his face. And oh, how beautiful he looked despite his sorrow. How glad you feel, the sole witness to his spirit, the unwavering bundle of mysteries that makes up who he is.

You hadn’t forgiven him for his words back at the Sanctuary that day, but that would be brought up later, and hopefully by the end of this, banished from your mind, a simple misunderstanding.

For now, with equal tenderness as you would handle a treasure, you wipe away the tears that encompass the flawless canvas that is the Wanderer, and the world seems to stop at the way you both stare at each other, wordless. Words were unnecessary, for the eyes have always been the window to the soul.

His gaze overflows with unspoken words and apologies and the hidden nature of his true intentions. You've no doubt yours holds the same weight.

Stay, his eyes seem to scream. Stay with me.

For once there’s no playful banter, bickering, or any other devices that mask the true nature of your feelings. You can hear the faraway call of the boat’s captain for any passengers heading to Fontaine to come and hurry! but you’ve long made up your mind. 

bonus: clear skies after the storm.

“Did you see Hat Guy pull [Name] away like that? Oh, he’s definitely up to no good! Traveler, do you think we need to check on them? He seemed like he wanted something out of them, though… You know how scary he can be if he wants to.”

The chatter of Paimon’s voice flies over his head, with Aether simply dismissing her thoughts.

You didn’t come on the boat after all. But still, he’s not paying heed to Paimon’s words, because it really didn’t seem that way.

In fact, by the way he held your hand, the utter relief he’d seen in the Wanderer’s face when he'd found you, the slight protectiveness he'd displayed over you, and the way your eyes had lit up at the sight of the former Harbinger, Aether could even say that you two were…

Suddenly, it clicks.

“Ah... So it was a lover’s spat.”

“Huh? A lover's spat? What are you talking about now!?”

@ MHIIEEE 2023 : do not copy, repost, or plagiarize my work.

₊✩‧₊ ⎯  Decorating Sakura’s Room 『 ♡ sakura haruka x reader 』

content // after seeing sakura's empty room for the first time, you're determined to make him feel more at home with a few additions.

note // tumblr decided not to post this yesterday for softie sunday lol so here it is!

Sakura's always deterred you from coming back to his place for your date nights, avoiding the topic altogether by offering to meet up at Pothos or to watch movies at your place instead. For the first month or so of dating, you didn't question it much, but now? It's getting suspicious. What did he have to hide from you?

"C'mon, we always go to my apartment. Why do you never have me over?"

Your demand has Sakura sweating, unable to come up with a logical excuse to keep you away any longer. He knows damn well that you can see right through his lies...and he has a terrible poker face around you.

"Fine, but don't expect much," he mutters, stomping passed you and continuing down the street. When you approach his front door, he takes a deep breath before twisting the handle.

"Do you not lock your door?!" You exclaim, noticing he didn't have a set of keys on him. "Saku, that's dangerous as hell!"

"S'not a big deal," he mumbles before kicking his shoes off into the corner, completely ignoring the shoe rack behind the door. "Don't have anythin' to steal, anyways."

You're confused by his words until you get a decent look at the apartment. It's...bare. Not a single decorative item in sight.

"Did you just move into this place?" you ask, confused. You're slowly making your way back to his bedroom, awestruck by the lack of evidence that anyone lives here.

"Nah, been here since I got to Makochi."

You turn to face him, a sad glint in your eyes before shaking your head. It makes him swallow nervously, the tips of his ears warming by the second. You don't say another word about it for the rest of the day.

A couple days pass until the two of you have plans again. You insist to meet at Sakura's place, and after lots of begging, he begrudgingly agrees. When you finally arrive to his place, you can barely knock on the door with how full your hands are with numerous bags of gifts. He opens the door as your mid-swing with your foot to "knock," immediately overwhelmed by the amount of stuff on your person.

"Th' hell is all this?!" Sakura shouts while attempting to grab a few of the bags from your hands. "Yer like a walkin' target with all this! Get in here already!"

"Sorry, Saku. I couldn't help it."

Sakura places the bags on the floor, slowly peaking through them to investigate just what the hell you've unloaded into his space. There are tons of essential items in neutral tones - a few sets of towels, a bath mat, two pillows and silk cases, a 4 set of plates and bowls, silverware, a pair of black house slippers, a brand new reusable water bottle, a water filter for the fridge, and a picture frame.

"I might've went a little overboard," you say sheepishly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "I felt bad you didn't have anything to make your home feel like your own. So I got you some things to warm it up, make it feel more permanent and a place you like, not just one you sleep in."

Sakura's speechless - devastated, even. He can't comprehend what he did to deserve your sweetness, biting his lip to keep his emotions caged. His cheeks are ablaze as he picks up the picture frame, noticing the plastic film is missing and there's a familiar set of pictures behind the glass.

"I went ahead and put in the pictures we took at the photo booth from the theater on our first date, you don't need to keep⎯ "

Your silenced by Sakura's lips capturing yours, his shaky hands cradling your face. Your squeak of surprise makes his heart skip a beat.

"Thank you," he whispers as you part, moving to wrap you up in a tight hug. "Yer...always so warm, like bein' under the sun on a hot day. I'm still getting used to that feelin', but this helps more than you know."

Your heart swells as you lay your head on his shoulder, absorbing all of his affection in the moment.

"Of course, Sakura. You deserve to be happy and feel like you belong."

His grip tightens on your shirt, a shiver running down his spine at your words. One day, he'll be able to tell you how you've made him feel at home for awhile now, and that the material possession are a nonfactor.

You pull back from his hug and pat him on the shoulders. "I'll help you put everything away and whatnot."

The two of you spend the next hour unpacking all of the goodies you've bought, leaving the picture frame for last. Sakura grabs the frame and paces the apartment a few times, pondering where exactly he wants to put it until the perfect spot pops into his mind.

Right above the shoe rack so you can welcome him home every single day with your bright smile.

『 #reis softie sundays 』