suna rintaro x reader; in which you wake up in your fwb's arms but neither of you are really complaining (oh no you have to acknowledge that you actually care for one another!); implied freaky time but not explicitly written!!!
the first thing that comes to mind is that you are not in your room and this is not your bed. the second thing were the arms wrapped around your middle, holding you tight against suna rintaro - who happens to be your friend with benefits.
this arrangement started months back, after you've hosted game night for your shared friend group late into the evening. suna had been the last to leave, as he had kindly stayed behind to help you clean up. one thing eventually led to another, and shortly after that first occurrence, you both agreed to some rules: 1) this will be casual 2) no sleeping over afterwards 3) absolutely no catching feelings allowed.
"whatcha thinking about, pretty?" suna stirs, voice hoarse from sleep as he pulls you impossibly closer. "i can feel you thinking".
"i'm thinking about all the rules we're breaking right now" you tell him, while trying to wiggle out of his grasp. "let me go now, rin."
"oh stop that," he purrs against your head. "i know it's your day off." you could only let out a sigh at this point, while suna begins rubbing his face against you contently.
"i - wait a minute, how did you know that?" you ask, turning to look back at him. your breath catches in your throat as a pair of brown eyes stare back at you, having not anticipated this sudden closeness.
"what don't i know about you, pretty?" suna teases with a small smile you fight the urge to kiss. "you like your coffee with 2 sugars and tons of creamer. you also love banana flavored drinks. and you wish you could do the splits. anddd you are obsessed with those littlest pet shop animal things." he tells you, "i can go on and on if you'd like."
you can only look back at him in shock, when it suddenly clicks in your head. "rintaro, this was never casual for you, was it?"
"never. and i knew from the beginning that you felt the same about me."
"says who?" you ask, biting back a smile as suna lets out a little laugh.
"says me, pretty." he tells you, before slowly leaning in to kiss you gently. you can feel his smile against your lips as you kiss him back. "i couldn't help but notice the way you looked at me when you thought i wouldn't notice, or how easily you blush when i 'accidentally' brush against you," suna says afterwards.
you let suna spoon you as you turn to get comfortable in his arms (and hide your blush). "and that third rule was complete bullshit, by the way." he says in your ear. "i stayed behind that night to clean up 'cos i had a crush on you then."
"well what about now?"
"if it wasn't obvious earlier, i still do. so will you let me take you out for brunch later?"
i think im on a roll! and yes i WAS projecting myself when suna said "what don't i know about you". reblogs let others see my work! mahal ko kayo!!!! masterlist here!
the inarizaki school festival is a loud, chaotic mess of cheap speakers and the smell of frying oil. you’re currently running the class cotton candy stall, your arms sticky with blue sugar dye, when osamu leans his elbows heavily on the wooden counter. he’s wearing his uniform trousers and a black apron, a toothpick stuck between his teeth.
“your spin technique is terrible,” he states plainly, watching you struggle with a lumpy, lopsided blue cloud on a stick. “you’re letting too much air into the chamber. it looks like a dead bird.”
“if you’re just here to criticize my margins, miya, you can leave,” you huff, wiping your forehead with the back of your wrist. “i don’t see you helping.”
he unhooks his elbows from the counter, walks right around the partition, and steps into the cramped two-foot space behind the machine with you. he is significantly wider than you, his chest brushing against your shoulder blades as he leans over your back to grab the wooden stick directly from your hands.
his large, calloused fingers completely overlap yours on the wood, his palms hot and slightly rough against your knuckles. he doesn’t pull away; he just keeps his hands locked over yours, guiding your wrists in a slow, perfectly even circular motion through the sugar threads.
“watch the wrist angle,” he murmurs right next to your ear, his raspy voice dropping below the hum of the machine. he looks completely focused on the candy, his jaw set in that stubborn scowl he gets when he’s counting rice grains, but his neck—right above his collar—has turned a dark, sudden crimson. “you gotta catch it before it burns on the heating element. like this.”
“oh,” you whisper, your heart doing a violent, stupid flip against your ribs because his chest is pressing hard against your back with every turn. “thanks.”
“dont worry about it,” he grunts, his grip on your fingers tightening just a fraction as the cotton candy perfectly rounds out into a massive, flawless blue orb. he doesn’t let go of your hands even after the machine stops spinning. “but since i saved your inventory, you’re giving me half of this one. and you’re walking with me to the gym after your shift so i can make sure you don’t drop the cash box.”
osamu miya x reader; in which you try making breakfast for your roommate so you can confess your feelings but it goes horribly wrong cos you suck at cooking (yikes!)
“why did i think i can do all this?” you mutter quietly to yourself, stepping back to look at the absolute mess that was made. you had messed up the rice to water ratio for the rice cooker, burned the sausage, and put too much salt in the scrambled eggs. your only edible food item was the fruit salad you made, although your poorly-shaped fruit detracted whatever visual appeal was left.
sinking down to the floor, you sat with your head in your hands, trying to think of how you could possibly salvage this. the plan was to make your roommate, osamu miya, a nice breakfast - one that was worthy enough to confess your feelings over.
living with him for the past 8 months had only amplified the previous feelings you had for him in high school. the normalcy of late night conversations and packed work lunches had only added fuel to the fire. atsumu even calls you “‘samu’s girlfriend”, a name that neither you or him rush to deny.
“did you try to cook something, yn?” osamu asks, lowering himself down to the ground to take a seat next to you. “you burnt whatever it was,” he said with a teasing smile.
“‘samu! i didn’t even hear you come out. i’m so sorry about the mess” you muster, head still in your hands as you felt more embarassed. there’s absolutely no way you could salvage this now.
“hey, it’s completely fine, yn.” he tells you. “what’s the occasion though? you know you’re not the greatest at cooking…”
“i - how do i put it..” you sit up to face osamu, ignoring the heat of your face as he grabs your hand in a comforting manner.
“you can tell me, yn, i’m hear to listen.”
you take a deep breath in to calm your nerves. “i’m in love with you, osamu,” you start. “and i thought that these feelings wouldn’t resurface even though i was practically in love with you during high school too and -”
your confession was cut off as osamu’s lips suddenly clash with yours. while initially surprised at first, it didn’t take long for you to relax and return the kiss.
“i’m sorry i didn’t ask to kiss you first, yn” osamu says, after you finally pull away from one another. “and i’m sorry that you beat me to confessing first. i was waiting for the perfect time to tell you how i feel.”
“how you feel? what are you talking about, osamu?”
“i wanted to have a fancy night in and make us dinner and everything. i wanted to make all of your favorites,” he tells you while sheepishly rubbing his neck. “and i wanted to tell you how in love i am with you, yn. i can’t stand not calling you my own, and i wish i would’ve caught on the mutual feeling sooner. i love you truly, yn. i can’t imagine living a life without you.”
“oh ‘samu!” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck and squeezing tight. his warmth is practically radiating from him as his arms wrap around your waist. “i love you too… but this confession on the floor wasn’t what i was envisioning.” you pull back, gesturing to the mess around you. “i wanted to make us breakfast, ‘samu”.
“well good thing i can cook for the both of us.” he assures, beaming at you as he lifts himself off the floor. “you just have to sit back and look pretty.”
his smile falters as he takes one glance over to the rice cooker, raising an eyebrow as he asks, “were you trying to make rice porridge in the rice cooker, sweetheart?”
“osamu nooooo,” you whine, covering your head in your hands once more.
i hope u enjoyed this. i have so many ideas for works like this n im very excited. PLEASE overlook my grammatical errors in my past works. reposts helps others see my work! mahal ko kayo ;P
WHY IS OUR MANAGER IN THE CLOSET WITH OUR TRAINER?
iwaizumi hajime x reader; where you ask your coworker “what are we?” mid-makeout session
excitement rushes through your body as you hear the familiar click! of the lock behind you, while strong arms feel you up and pull you close.
“i missed you, you know that, right?” iwaizumi tells you, as he starts trailing down your neck. “why have you been avoiding me all day?”
“avoiding you?” you ask with a smile, leaning your head a bit to the side to give him more room to kiss the particular spot you like. “we’re at work, hajime.” your job requires notetaking, bringing water bottles, coordinating players’ schedules, etc… while his requires training, physical therapy appointments, and individualized meetings with players. other than both jobs relating to the team, there wasn’t that much intersect that justified meeting in the storage closet this often.
“so?” he hums, breath catching in your throat while he trails his fingers beneath your work blouse. “doesn’t stop this from happening.”
something about that comment snaps you out of the pleasure you’re feeling, facing consiousness of where you are and what was going on instead. iwaizumi pauses, feeling you suddenly tense beneath him. “did i do something wrong?” he asks.
“hajime… what are we? i mean what are we even doing? we’ve been acting like high schoolers that don’t want to get caught.” you ask, letting his hand cup your face as his eyes meet yours.
the trainer stares at you for a moment, before a quick inhale. “we can be whatever you want us to be, yn.” he gives you a gentle kiss on the head. “we can be just coworkers, friends, or even more than friends, if you’d like.” despite the little light in the storage closet, you could feel his blush radiating off of hiim.
“how about we talk about it over dinner?” you question, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck.
“are you free tonight?” iwaizumi asks with a hint of hope, thumb stroking your face as he anticipates your response.
“hmmm, i’ll think about it,” you tease. laughing as he nipped at your neck. “i think -“
“BOKUTO, GET THE KEYS! THE DOOR IS LOCKED.” atsumu yells from outside.
you both freeze, with iwaizumi whipping his hand around to check the time on his watch. 7:00pm. the team had officially ended their practice and had to put away their things. “oh my god,” you whisper, mortified at the thought of being caught like this.
“don’t worry, i got this,” he assures, before quickly catching your lips with his own.
————
“AND THEN, i saw yn sneak out of the closet while iwaizumi was distracting me with something. she didn’t even look me in the eyes.” atsumu tells the group. “THE DOOR WAS LOCKED BEFOREHAND?”
you cover your head with your hands in embarrassment, while iwaizumi puts an arm around you. turns out, you both forgot about the scheduled drinks bokuto and atsumu insisted on having at the end of each month. you could only yelp in surprise as iwaizumi playfully pinches your side, before whispering in your ear, “good thing we didn’t get too carried away this time.”
im sorry guys im rusty. please forgive me. and PLEASE overlook my grammatical errors in my past works. reposts appreciated ;P
if there was one word you could use to describe wriothesley, it would be cold.
contents. 7.4k+ wc (please give it a chance 🙏) f!reader, a non-canon annual animal hunting competition, furina being in her matchmaker era, cliche but that’s kinda the point, there's a trope called the “cold duke of the north” trope that describes a very stereotypical male lead, super similar to the “company ceo trope”! picture creds: @/ochaiit - x
notes. “on a scale from one to ten how self-indulgent was this alexis” a ten. i need him.
being a government official under the rule of focalors, you often have to do things you don’t want to do. the job description means a lot of things, including (but not limited to) enduring tedious meetings with neuvillette and rescuing stray kittens lurking outside the palais mermonia, but this really takes the cake.
“will you be a dear and let me know how wriothesley is doing?”
you blink as furina claps her hand excitedly, leaning forward to stare gleefully at the cookies that line the plate before her.
“…sorry?”
“well, i realized i actually don’t know that much about the fortress of meropide,” she smiles flippantly, completely enamored by the sweet treats in front of her, “i want you to do some routine check-ups and make sure everything’s running smoothly!”
“but i—”
“i’m sorry but i already let him know, so i’m afraid you don't have a choice in the matter.” her eyes peer up, that cat-like quality in her iris making your eye twitch; she gives you a close-eyed smile as she pushes the tray to the middle of the table, “here, take one as a gift! you can even give one to him if you’d like.”
“i’m alright, thank you.” you smile, waving your hands in front of you as the traitorous back of your mind wonders how you ended up with someone like her as your archon (seriously, your prospects in sumeru would fare far better), but you attempt to shush it as best as you can as your back sinks onto the plush pillows on the edge of the couch, your fingers unconsciously picking at the loose fuzz.
she studies your stature closely, barely disguising the glint of suspicion in her eyes.
“why do you look so flustered? does the duke make you nervous?” her grin shifts from virtuous to a more mischievous flavor as she daintily plucks a cookie off the tier, “hot and bothered, even?”
“no!” you protest quickly, shooting up from your position; her smile is teasing at best and almost evil at worst, making your face feel even more aflame as she chews on the cookie thoughtfully, patiently waiting for you to defend yourself more.
“i just…” you grimace under her stare, “don’t think he likes me is all.”
her eyes widen in surprise — real surprise, from what can you tell (a rarity from your archon). “whatever do you mean?”
“i mean, he’s always so…” you pause, biting the inside of your lip as you try to think of the word, “cold? he avoids me at every event he’s forced to come to, and when i think he’s just in a bad mood or something, i see him chatting up neuvillette or clorinde five minutes later! i haven’t done anything to him and he finds every excuse not to talk to me!”
“it doesn't seem like that big of a deal to me, maybe he’s just nervous?” she shrugs, her feet rocking back and forth as her heels hit the back of the couch.
you wrinkle your nose. “why would he be?”
your archon thinks for a moment, and for once, you think she might actually be genuine.
as soon as her mask slips, though, her playful smile is back on her face, and she bounds off her lounging position, grabbing a small cake to bring to her table.
“anyways, just check in with me once you’re done visiting down there, okay? i’ll get you access and everything so you don’t need to worry about that!” she sets the plate on the wooden desk — you stand up, knowing that this is her way of ushering you out.
“goodbye now!” she waves cheerfully as you make your way to the door, “i’ll have neuvillette send you the schedule later!”
you hope later means never.
(unfortunately for you, neuvillette has the schedule at your doorstep by sunset.)
I.) MUSCLES FOR DAYS (HARD-ROCK ABS, REALLY?)
“and this is where the inmates live,” wriothesley holds his hand out, helping you up the stairs, “the dormitories are all here; every person has their own bed, room, and bathroom, and although curfew is strict, it’s not unreasonable. so, are we done here?”
you look around the hallways leading to the rooms, split off into four clusters across multiple levels. furina and her insatiable curiosity for the deep fortress of meropide will be the death of you.
“i’ll be down here again if we're not,” you turn to him, showing him the crude map you’ve drawn of the fortress layout, “does this look right to you?”
he tilts his head, his pale eyes squinting at the rough sketch you’ve made before he lifts his right eyebrow, “i’m not sure why you put “gross food” in the cafeteria section, but other than that, it looks about right.”
you used to think wriothesley could actually be quite handsome if he talked to you more, but that was before his tactic switched from avoiding you to subtly pissing you off (the eye candy definitely helps, though).
“for furina,” you smile noncommittally, “she wouldn’t enjoy the food down here, it’s too heavy.”
his nods in acknowledgment. “it’s good that she can have you do her dirty work every time she wants to check up on this place, then.”
your eye twitches as you fold the map back into your pocket distastefully, biting your lip as your shoes clack against the steel floor, the iron lanterns providing some very much-needed warmth to the lack of it.
he's not wrong, she’s sent you down here multiple times for the past few weeks for “research” that the warden could easily provide her, but she's been insistent on sending you instead; today and the past three days have been about her pushing you to create a personalized map for her (as if she would ever go down there willingly). wriothesley’s comment definitely wasn't needed, but as long as you can get out of here as quickly as possible and return to where the sunlight actually shines, your day is still redeemable.
that is, until sigewinne ruins everything.
“your grace, your grace!” she runs up the other side of the steps as the two of you are making your way down — you quickly turn around at her panicked tone only to be met with wriothesley's abdomen, his ruffled black dress shirt tucked into his pants and his startled expression only a single step behind you.
you make a noise and take a step back out of surprise, only to have your foot trip on the step below you.
it all happens too fast for you to perceive, because one moment your heart drops in preparation for some inevitable head injury from the metal that makes up the damned place, and in the next, you feel someone's arm pull yours back, harshly stalling your fall as a blur of black and red envelops your body; your chin bumps painfully against his as you crash onto the floor, the pricking stinging at your skin and fuck, did you just—
wriothesley’s eyes are screwed shut in pain as his shoulder rams into the floor, a soft groan leaving his lips as you feel your face heat up, too flustered to move — his adam’s apple bobs as your warm exhales fan his neck, and archons, it feels like you’re lying against a wall. a soft wall, but a wall nonetheless; your arms grip at his biceps as you push yourself off of him after half a minute, his forearms sliding lax off of your back, grimacing. did he just take the brunt of the fall for you?
you stare down at him in horror, the heat from your hands contrasting the cold metal, the faint red on his lips contrasting his pale skin; his eyes open, dazedly staring at the ceiling instead of you.
it’s almost funny how he still somehow manages to avoid your gaze even when he’s injured.
you scramble off of him in the next moment, moving to extend a hand to his, helping him up with as much strength as you can muster (it is your fault anyway), trying to cover up the faltering mess you are.
it doesn’t help that you hang your face down low, avoiding eye contact as the heat creeps into your ears.
his lips are parted ever so slightly, a shaky breath escaping them before he heaves out a heavy sigh. “what hit me?” his fingers gingerly touch his chin as sigewinne bounds over to his side, calling his name out worriedly.
he didn’t feel your lips on his—? “my forehead,” you blurt out quickly, swallowing, patting your forehead, “i must’ve bumped your chin, i’m sorry.”
he blinks in confusion before he sighs for the umpteenth time (it really does seem like he's always sighing when you're around), straightening his back.
“be more aware of your surroundings next time,” he says stiffly, “i'll have deakin escort you back up, i apologize for not doing it myself.”
your expression sours at the thought of deakin before you remember that the warden is in front of you, and you flash a fake smile. “i'll see him up there, then,” your eyes flit to the melusine who stares innocently at you, biting the inside of your lip, “it was nice running into you, sigewinne.”
she offers to give you a small check-up with apologetic eyes but you refuse quickly; you can’t be down here for another second, not the way wriothesley’s pale eyes burn holes into the back of your head as you leave.
deakin is as rude and boring as ever, your interaction with wriothesley has rendered any ability to ever make eye contact with him again useless, and you’re a little bit more than pissed at furina for sending you down there in the first place, so when you see her waiting with hearts in her eyes and an excited grin on her face when you step out of the elevator, you have to mentally prepare yourself.
“so,” furina smiles innocently, “how did it go?”
you swallow, your cheeks warm under her gaze.
“…i think i accidentally kissed him,” your chin throbs, but not as fast as your heart is, “and i don't think he noticed.”
II.) THAT SPECIFIC HAIRSTYLE (WHY DOES HIS NEW HAIRCUT LOOK THE SAME?)
despite how incessantly you plead, furina insists on sending you back. you think she's been reading too many isekai novels that yae’s publishing house has been pushing out recently — not that they're bad, but because it's impossible to be blind to her motives.
“let me guess,” you shoot him a playful look, “they call you a demon on the battlefield.”
wriothesley raises an eyebrow. “i’ve never touched a battlefield in my life.”
to your surprise, the man didn't mention your embarrassing mishap that occurred on that very first day, which either means that he's just as mortified as you are or that you’d misjudged his character from the beginning, and he's actually a saint in disguise.
you think it might be the latter because even with your constant badgering over these past few weeks, he's never once complained; he just hangs back, letting you explore the nooks and crannies in the fortress without much grievance.
the excuse is a safety check this time, which is infinitely worse than the past days because you actually don't have many qualifications to decide what is safe and what isn't.
“are you good with a sword?”
“i prefer my fists.”
“i think swords are cooler.”
“keep talking and i can show you first-hand just how much cooler my gauntlets are.”
you laugh to yourself, your fingers trailing against the rusty pipes of the fortress and your snickers echoing against the hollow copper.
you glance at the man next to you as sneakily as you can, taking a moment to admire his stoic features. his words may have seemed to be mean-spirited, but he remains as aloof as he’s always been; his eyes shift to yours before you immediately turn away, staring up at the screws and bolts that line the area. you swallow, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment.
you and wriothesley aren't particularly best friends, no, but there are times — certain hours of the day and depth carved into your short allotments with him — when you feel a small connection buzzing between your fingertips and his, or when you catch him looking at you just a little bit longer than he’s supposed to. it gives you a childish sense of hope, the kind that lights giddy fires in your heart when he turns his head in your direction.
“so what’s up there?”
“hm?” wriothesley stops in his tracks at the sound of your voice, following your finger to the dark edges of the hallway. the tube you stand in is supposed to be empty, save for the random crab that stumbles its way in through the large pipes or overgrown flora covering certain areas, but you’re not lying, something is sparkling in the distance up ahead from you.
it’s dim enough that he can’t make it out until the two of you get closer, and through tentative steps, the two of you slowly approach it.
it’s a pool, he realizes, stopping no more than a few centimeters away from the platform's edge, barely inches above the still water that lies flat below him. you’re right behind him, peeking shyly from behind his shoulder to the clear blue under you (he feels your breath on his jacket for just a moment, your eyes peering at the water as if you're staring right past his skin).
“…this doesn’t bode well.” his voice doesn’t echo as much as it should, not with the swamped area and the sound of the fortress’s money practically going down the flooded pipe drain in front of him.
“wait, what do you mean?” you come up from behind him, kneeling down on the pavement. the loose rock digs into your knees and your hands grip the edges as you lean down as far as you can, practically bringing your chin to the water’s surface — you can’t help the wide smile that appears on your face as you turn to peer up at the man; from this angle, it’s beautiful, with seaweed and sand caved into the pool just a few feet away with shells and crustaceans alike, “can’t you use this to swim or something? i’m sure the inmates would love to stretch their limbs!”
“unlikely.” his face is grim, “this was supposed to be a drainage tube that also blocked water from entering, the fact that it’s broken down this much and for this long…i can’t even imagine the damage it’s done to the metal surrounding the area. it's already surprising enough that the left wing of the fortress hasn't been affected yet.”
it’s around this moment that you realize that you don’t like this expression on wriothesley’s face.
it's too similar to the cold and unfeeling appearance he used to parade around you, but it's worse because the way his eyebrows furrow and the way he bites his bottom lip shows something unnatural for wriothesley, something you've never quite noticed.
you know that realistically, he's probably worn “worry” before from deep within the shadows of his office and far from the blue sky that you know, but in all your years of knowing him, you've never seen it, the sullen gray that pools in his iris, the tense in his shoulders. it doesn't feel like him — a powerful and handsome warden such as himself should be gallivanting around with sly grins and open arms, not beating himself up over a mistake that no one's noticed before this.
“hey, did you get a haircut?” you ask randomly, swinging your fingers mindlessly across the still water.
he seems to shake out of his brooding stupor at your words, shifting his eyes to look down at you. “you’ve noticed?”
no.
“of course i did!” you lie through your teeth, creating ripples around your skin as you stare up at him. he nods in acknowledgment, his small frown still pulling at his lips as he contemplates his new problem.
there's much to do after all, the plumbers, builders, and conservationists will all cost a hefty amount of mora he doesn't know he can spare, not with the leaks in the right wing and the upgraded dorm construction that's already underway (it's not as if this isn't urgent, though, it's most certainly one of the more dire cases, however time-sensitive it is). it's been a while since he's applied for a loan, but maybe neuvillette could help him out, or maybe furina would even give him a free pass and tap into the treasury—
a splash.
“wrio?” his head quirks up again, this time because of the sudden nickname (unexpected, but not unwelcome), only to be met with the sound of a flick and something wet and salty on his face. he closes his eyes out of instinct, letting out a noise akin to a strangled gasp, spluttering on the water that sits on his skin as he hears you practically snort next to him.
your head is leaning against your free hand, brazenly smiling at the shocked look on his face — not the normal guilty look of a prankster, but the fact that your other hand still has water dripping off of it and that no playful seals are rippling underneath the blue leads him to the simplest conclusion he can think of.
“what was that for?”
to distract you, to make you feel better, because i wanted to — the explanations flood your head, but you respond by flicking him again, spraying small drops of saltwater back onto his face.
“your hair was just a bit messy, new haircuts tend to do that,” you stand up, reaching your hands up to fix his hair, ruffling your fingers where the black roots part on his scalp, swiping his cheek with the dry part of your wrist afterwards. your palm feels warm, despite how cold the water that settled on his skin felt, your nails grazing ever so softly against his temple, brushing one last time against the damp hair that lies on his forehead.
you step back, happy to see that his frown is indeed turned upside down (more like in complete shock, but you still count it), gently tapping his shoulder before you begin to make your way back through the hallway. “c’mon, let’s go talk to furina and neuvillette about this, i'm sure they'll get it fixed in no time if i'm there!”
his heart thumps loudly against his chest.
“why would it matter if you were there?”
the golden light from the lanterns reflects off of your jewelry as you turn back, a playful smile on your face. “they like me more, obviously.”
you lead the way, and after a moment of hesitation, he follows.
(he's not sure why, but in that moment, he thinks he might follow you anywhere you go.)
III.) COMMUNICATION ISSUES (SERIOUSLY, IS HIS FACE STUCK ON THE SAME SETTING?)
if there was one word you have to describe wriothesley, it'd be cold.
“hey, are you sure you’re not talking about yourself?”
his prison is far deep down in the sea where the sunlight doesn't touch, to say his personality is mysterious would be an understatement, and his cryo vision only seems to be a physical representation of his attitude.
“i feel like i could freeze in these temperatures myself.”
your nail leaves your mouth after the girl oh-so-rudely interrupts your musing — you turn your head to look at her — she’s being rather sarcastic for being someone who’s supposed to be here and comfort you, but you suppose that’s always been the way furina’s acted.
she both looks and behaves the same way you’ve known her ever since you walked into her palace at five years old, your eyes filled with wonderment at the destiny that awaited you if you chose to serve the archon the same way your parents and theirs had.
she has the decency to look worried, though, with her eyebrows furrowed in distress and the cerulean mixing with teal in both of her irises widening in concern. wriothesley’s eyes don’t look like hers, you think, hers are prettier by far, who would ever think—
“you’re an archon,” the words escape your lips unceremoniously, “it’d be rather disappointing if you froze by a humble mortal’s stare.”
“humble mortal’s glare.” she gives you a pointed look; you stick out your tongue before turning your head to face the copper that’s on your right.
you really wish you were looking out a window right now, perhaps a flower pot would be on the windowsill, with navy blue curtains tied neatly on the side? perhaps a bird would come to feed on the seed that lies outside, or a pretty nurse would be here to help tend to your wounds, but as much as you try to imagine it, the ugly red-orange of the metal stands out like a freak of nature in your eyes, reminding you just where you are.
“wriothesley and sigewinne should be here any moment,” furina places a hand on your shoulder, her gloves daintily patting it, “i think i’ll see myself around here — to check if your map is as correct as it could’ve been. i could fire you if it’s wrong, y’know!”
“don’t go near the cafeteria,” you sigh, staring forlornly at the wall, “you’d hate it.”
she blows a raspberry in your face, and you manage a snort, as much as you can without your stomach killing you.
knock knock.
your laughter halts immediately, and furina glances momentarily at the door; it swings open (rather rudely, you think, without much delay nor care) as wriothesley and sigewinne step through. his hair has grown ever so slightly since the last time you saw him, and the eyebags under his eyes are more prominent than usual, but still, he looks as handsome as ever.
“focalors,” wriothesley bows slightly in respect at his archon, sigewinne following his lead as furina curtsies back. the man spares a glance at you, only to be met with a bone-chilling glare that sends him facing furina immediately, a hospitable smile on his face.
“i’ll have deakin — not deakin—” he immediately corrects himself, “i’ll have chambodouc escort you through the fortress; sigewinne, i have something to discuss with the patient, are you free to take furina to the shop? wait outside when you’re done.”
sigewinne agrees happily, none the wiser to the daggers you pierce into wriothesley’s back with your eyes (either that, or she doesn’t care), skipping her merry way to chambodouc as your archon abandons you, trailing not too far behind. wriothesley sighs as he closes the door after them — your eyes watch consciously as he drags his body to pull the chair next to you out to sit down.
“are you alright?” he doesn't take the time to get comfortable, immediately on the edge of the seat with his back hunched, “do you feel too hurt anywhere?”
the stingrays that attacked you are far more forgiving than he is.
“no,” you say simply, “it aches, but sigewinne is masterful at her craft.”
he nods, rubbing his thumb against the ring on his pointer finger. there’s a second of silence that passes through, and for once, you think you might be able to enjoy a moment of peace to yourself, but the hunk of black and red decides to open his mouth again.
“…you really shouldn’t have been out there—”
you groan. “oh my god—”
“diving near here has always been known to be dangerous, something worse could’ve happened.”
“really? it’s almost like i was willing to take the risk, have you ever thought about that?”
he bristles. “you are in no position to be satirical right now—”
“and you are in no position to be here right now!”
the beat of silence comes again, but it’s heavier this time, too heavy for you to pretend that you could ever be at peace in your tawdry hospital bed in the fortress of meropide. you exhale, fluttering your eyelids closed as you muster up as much courage as you can before you ask him, “why are you here?”
at first, you thought you might’ve been looking into it too much — your ability to overthink is one of the reasons that furina hired you after all — and it honestly seemed like your relationship was fine before furina changed your schedule to something useful (in fact, it felt like you might even get closer to him), but he had gone radio silent ever since you stopped coming to the fortress regularly.
that’s why you’re surprised, you think.
what kind of person do you have to be to ignore someone’s letters for weeks and show up at their injured bedside in the same breath?
how can he sit next to you with furrowed brows and concerned eyes when he asked neuvillette for your timetable so that you wouldn’t be in the palace when he went up there, not knowing you were just outside the office?
how could he practically reduce your relationship to what it was before furina assigned you down here?
you find yourself wondering if he’ll actually respond to your question, but by the way he remains silent, you’re afraid he might just get up from his seat and walk out. you shift, tilting your head down so that you meet his eyes; he almost jumps at the sudden movement, but he remains seated.
“hey, did i do something to you?” you ask him bluntly, and his face falls in horror, “did i say something wrong? because if i did, you really should’ve just told me instead of—”
“no, no!” he waves his hands in a sort of protest, and he pauses, his lips wringing in hesitation, “you haven’t done anything wrong.”
“so what’s going on?”
the duke looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here, but he stays anyways. “i’m not avoiding you because of anything you did,” he utters his words slowly and meticulously, as if his entire reputation depends on them, “it’s my own shortcomings that are at fault.”
you blink.
“i don't have many…acquaintances outside the fortress, so i'm not exactly sure how to keep up with others,” his tone sounds strange — timid, even, “so when i got your letters, i kept holding it off because i wasn't confident i could say what i wanted to correctly.”
he continues, his posture unfitting of a duke, his shoulders hunched with shame. “it'd always be at the back of my mind as i did my duties, but it'd be far too late at that point to send one back without an excuse, which i didn't have. i never meant to make you wait for so long, it was just difficult for me to reply.”
your eye twitches. how has anything ever gotten done in the prison?
“so you thought it'd be better to just avoid me altogether?”
“i knew you'd be angry, rightfully, of course.” he tacks that last part as an offering of peace, a point of understanding he hopes you can connect.
“you do understand that i'd actually get angrier as you went longer with no reply, right?” you cross your arms, leaning back on the metal headboard of the hospital bed.
the man cocks his head to the side. “well, it makes sense now that you've said it.”
…okay, well now you feel bad. the cold warden of an even more unforgiving prison more resembles a man kicked to the side of the road, a solemn pout unconsciously playing on his lips as he practically sulks in his seat, and your heart melts for him just a little bit.
“so you were actually worried?”
“yes.”
“about me?”
“yes.”
“and you weren't avoiding me because you despise my presence?”
“of course not.” his answer is firm and definitive before he quickly adds, “but that doesn't mean you must forgive me, truly, i completely understand if you feel uncomfortable here, and we'll be sure to get you out as soon as—”
“it's okay, you don't have to keep apologizing.” the words escape your lips as you sigh in consolation, the relief washing over your body as you shift forward.
he nods, “…i really am sorry—”
“oh,” you joke, “be quiet.”
what you don't expect is for him to do exactly that, closing his mouth immediately as he stares at you in earnest.
if you weren't already so smitten with his eyes, you might find it creepy how bright they are — the wholeheartedness practically seeping into the pale hues. you feel heat crawl to the back of your neck, a heat that really only makes it's appearance when wriothesley gets close to you.
“let’s just start over and completely reset everything,” you fight back the incessant warmth, pulling your lips back into a tight smile, “clean slates.”
“…everything?” he echoes blankly, his eyes blinking in some sort of astonishment. he doesn’t want to reset everything, but he supposes he’s in no position to refuse if you want to, so he straightens his back, attempting to fix the frown that pulls from his lips. “alright, if that’s what you want.”
the seriousness in his expression makes your heart melt again, punching through it as if the past couple of minutes of your messy attempt to build your walls up again were mere seconds with toy blocks.
yeah, you think, maybe gauntlets are better.
“…are you going to the chasse this year?” you tilt your head.
his eyebrows furrow. “i typically don't attend those types of events.”
“it would be wonderful if you did,” you smile; you've only been this close to wriothesley once, but his face shrouded by the dark lighting of the broken-down corridor could hardly compete with the sight you see before you, “rumor has it that a rather lonely official would appreciate your presence.”
“oh?” a hesitant, faint smile appears on his lips (you wonder just how wide his grin could be—if it's a toothy smile you can imagine in your head, if his canines are as sharp as you think they might be), and he glances up at your eyes again, “and would you consider this rumor to be true?”
“you'd have to be there to validate my answer anyways, wouldn't you?”
his expression cracks again, his mouth curving up as a chuckle escapes his lips. “i guess i would.” his head naturally tilts as he laughs, but you can barely think of a response to the sound of his laughter echoing in your ear, your face surely hot enough to boil the ocean around you.
his laugh is so cute.
“your smile suits you well, monsieur.” you end up blurting out the words without thinking, a wavering lilt in your tone as you gaze up at him in some awestruck stupor.
his lips are so cute.
he seems to freeze at the compliment for just a moment, before he bows his head. “thank you.”
he’s so cute.
the man suddenly gets out of his chair, keeping his head low before he turns around, practically making a beeline for the door, “i think i hear sigewinne outside, actually, so i probably shouldn't keep her waiting — i'll see you at the chasse!”
with that, he slams the door behind him, leaving you staring wide-eyed in the empty room.
…did you offend him somehow? you blink back your confusion, hesitating for just a moment before you clear your throat in the silent air, deciding that waiting for the fortress’s nurse to tend to your wounds is probably the best course of action. your face is hot and your fingers burn as you move to smooth out the wrinkled sheets that lie on top of you before folding the edges back neatly, leaning back onto your pillows with a strangled sigh.
how embarrassing.
on the other side of the door, sigewinne curiously peers up at her duke. he hasn't moved since he barged out of the room, his back as stiff as a line, one of his hands still on the metal handle and the other attempting to cover the lower half of his face.
“wriothesley,” she asks innocently, “why are you so red?”
IV. ASSET JEWELRY (OH, A BROOCH? FOR ME?)
out of all of fontaine's cultural festivals, the chasse is probably your least favorite. you don't really find hunting all that appealing nor do you like fraternizing with rich nobles who’ve never worked a day in their life, so the entire event is pretty boring for the most part.
“are you looking for somebody?”
neuvillette peers curiously at you as you sigh, flopping back into the seat next to him.
”no,” you grumble delicately, the dejected pout on your face a clear indicator that you’re lying, “i’m just bored is all.”
“well, please let me know if there’s anything i can do to pique your interest,” the man smiles softly as he rests his head back on the seat, somewhat of a knowing glint in the purple of his eyes, “or if there’s somebody that i can point to help you out.”
you make an embarrassed noise at his comment, and he continues to smile as the two of you overlook the stragglers that trickle into the open forest.
there are lot of familiar faces that you can see socializing with each other amongst the crowd; lynette and emilie, for example, are sipping on tea on the east side with many of the other ladies, conversing amongst the buttered biscuits and board games.
navia and clorinde are in a different corner, dressed in pantsuits and equipping their hunting gear as they talk, and you can even see charlotte bouncing around lyney and the rest of the crowd with her trusty camera at her side — all of these familiar faces, and still, the one that had promised to show up hasn’t yet.
your eye twitches.
“i’ll be right back,” you announce as you stand up again, and your head swivels to the man sitting beside you, “you’re fine to announce the event without me, right?”
“please, go ahead,” neuvillette gives you a close-eyed smile (it’s almost suspicious how agreeable he’s being), taking another sip of his tea, “furina will be here any moment, so we’ll be fine without you.”
you give him a swift nod before you make your way down the steps before immediately turning to head back towards the exit.
you contemplate making an honest run for the gate and leaving before anyone can stop you, but your duty to fontaine is important, even if it caters to a hunting competition you’ve never appreciated since your youth. so, you branch off, turning to an open clearing nearby instead.
the sun glares in your eyes and the leaves from the trees barely make enough shadow to provide shade against the relentless heat, but there are less people back here, so you’re quite positive that no one will disturb you on your quick break—
a hand grabs your arm, pulling you back.
a barely disguised shriek leaves your lips as your elbow hits the chest of your attacker, and they let out a grunt in response. you come to a horrifying conclusion that that particular wall of a chest feels far more familiar than you’d like to admit.
“wriothesley?” you quickly turn around, your feet tangling themselves against the soft dirt, and he catches your shoulder quickly, your body steadying against his palm. you look up, and your eyes sparkle.
the suit he wears is far more fitting for a rich duke than his usual dress uniform — a long hunting coat drapes over his broad shoulders, buckled at the very middle with gold accents, a red dress shirt peeking out from behind the fur. his hair is styled differently too, swept back to reveal his forehead, a few rebellious strands sitting near his eyebrow.
you feel warm, and you're acutely aware that it's not because of the sun.
“hi,” he gives you a wry smile, “fancy seeing you here.”
your eyes make the mistake of darting to his palm, zeroing in on the rings that line his knuckles, the veins that run on his skin, his fingertips on the edge of your shoulder. he seems to notice, because he quickly releases you from his grasp.
“um,” you clear your throat, ducking your head down just a bit, “yeah, you too! i honestly didn’t think you’d show up.”
his eyes dart to the side. “of course i did,” he says casually, “you asked me to come, didn't you?”
your cheeks flush.
“i'm glad you did.” you bite the inside of your cheek, and your eyes fall on the sword by his hip. “will you be competing?”
“i will,” he nods, his hand resting on the hilt; it looks new sheathed behind it’s cover, like it’s never been used before, “are you?”
you laugh, the smile breaking through your lips, “no, i’ll just be spectating today. i’ve never been into hunting, even if they are just robots.”
his eyebrows raise in surprise, and he falters, shifting with something in the pocket beside his sword. “a-ah, well,” he almost looks embarrassed underneath the sweltering sun, a sheepish grin on his face, “i guess that makes this useless, then.”
he pulls a small jewelry box from his pocket before carefully clicking it open, revealing a beautiful brooch in the middle. it’s the same deep red that’s the color of his suit, cut and polished, pinned and soldered to a golden casing, an intricate floral pattern fanning out past the gem. “i had hoped to wish you luck,” he admits, “i hope you still accept it.”
if you weren’t warm before, you surely are now.
giving jewelry to someone during the chasse was never just a tradition of good luck, no, it signified interest too. the novels that furina reads flood back into your head ー multiple women begging the crown prince to accept their charms, one girl accepting her lover’s and going on to win ー the flush on your face gets deeper, it’s so hot you might burn.
“this is how i know that you’re supposed to go outside more,” your voice comes out unnaturally high-pitched, “nobody has been trading jewelry for many years now.”
he hums. “i know,” he delicately takes the brooch out, clicking the box shut. he puts it back in his pocket, before he delicately grabs your hand, placing the jewel on your palm. it’s cool against the fire you feel on your skin at his touch, and he gently closes your fingers over it, making a fist. “i’m a romantic at heart. and, furina’s recommended your favorite books to me.”
of course furina is behind this.
you can hear a horn blaring from a distance, a sign that the event is about to start.
“can i confess something?”
you blink, and you look at him curiously. “sure?”
it blares again.
with the swift rush of the breeze that wafts past you, he leans down, his lips right next to your ear, his jaw tilted towards yours. “i’m only competing because i thought you would be as well,” his tone is soft and deep, “secretly, i hoped that i’d be receiving a piece of jewelry from you too.”
he steps back, and he gives you another smile. that’s two, you think. “since i’m not, though, please take care of that for me — if you cheer me on, i’ll be sure to win!”
with that, he walks away, the horn sounding a final time with a thunderous roar of applause. there’s a faint sound of neuvillette welcoming the diplomats, but if you’re being completely honest, you can’t hear a single thing behind the hot ringing in your ears. as wriothesley walks away, your thumb brushes against the jewel.
the forests of fontaine have always been beautiful, despite the random treasure hunter group or fatui members here or there, so you’re glad to be able to reconnect with the greenery after spending so much time in the city.
you think he might be prettier.
V.) A SOFT SPOT FOR THE FEMALE LEAD (WAIT, WHAT?)
if there was one word you could use to describe wriothesley, it’d be cold.
he’s aloof on good days and almost mean on bad days, his reputation is lower than the ground where the fortress of meropide resides, and his undoubtedly dark past leaves him closed off from the rest of the world.
he is…sweet, though.
“madame,” he taps on your shoulder, and you’re greeted with a different suit than the one he bore during the competition. it still looks exquisite on him, the long cape trailing past his tall legs, a tight navy vest hugging his chest, “what are you doing out here?”
“monsieur,” you smile teasingly as you set your wine glass down on the edge of the balcony. the moon is high in the sky now, the cold chill of fontaine’s atmosphere clear against the breeze, “i just needed a break from the festivities is all.”
he nods. “it’s pretty hectic in there, you made a good decision coming out here.” he exhales softly, closing his eyes, “...it did make it harder to find you, though. i was looking for you all night.”
when did wriothesley become such a natural flirt?
“i apologize,” you smile sheepishly, shifting your body to the side to allow more space, “here, feel free to join me!”
he accepts your invitation with a small smile, resting his arms against the stone, his head lying close to yours.
“congratulations on winning the hunt, by the way,” you play with your fingers, “seriously, i don’t think anyone stood a chance against you.”
“i admit that the sword was pretty cool.” his smile grows wider as he stares at the trees in the garden of the palais mermonia.
“i knew it!” you exclaim, nudging his shoulder in excitement, “gauntlets couldn’t have scored half of the points you got with a sword.”
“half is pushing it,” he snorts, and he looks down, his arm moving just a bit closer to yours, “besides, i had some motivation.”
you flush, becoming increasingly hyperaware of the brooch that you wear proudly on your dress. “i’m pretty good with a sword, y’know,” you inhale, “i could always teach you more sometime.”
“i’d like that,” he glances up at you, his blue eyes staring holes into you, half-lidded against the brightness of the moon, “it’d be nice to meet with you outside of official business.”
“we can call it non-official, then,” you smile innocently, “as long as furina doesn’t know.”
he chuckles lowly, and you can’t help but follow him, copying his movements.
it’s silent for a moment with both of your heads rested on your arms, a cool breeze ruffling through your clothing as the party rages on inside. your voice comes out soft, almost a whisper that gets carried on with the rest of the night, “can i confess something?”
he perks up. “sure.”
“i would’ve accepted your brooch in a heartbeat if i wasn’t so shocked,” the embarrassment crawls up your neck, onto the tips of your nose, “even so, the only thing that i was thinking about was rushing back home and finding one to give to you.”
it’s like the atmosphere warms up with the way his eyes light up, and if you look closely, you can see a faint red that brushes against his cheeks.
“i’m happy that you reciprocate,” his smile is smug, despite the blush that threatens fire on his body as he leans in closer, a teasing look in his eyes, “if you’d like, we can rush right back to your home right now.”
“why, youー!” you gasp in mock offense, hitting his shoulder. he practically cackles at his joke, and you glower, “you’re dangerous.”
“for you, i’ll try not to be.”
his finger interlocks with yours absentmindedly, and he grins as the music begins again, “would you spare a dance with me tonight?”
the live orchestra plays live in the background warms up their instruments as guests begin to get into their places in the middle ー he leads you easily from your spot on the balcony, one hand on your shoulder, the other on your waist.
the duke may be cold, but he makes you feel a fervor unknown to anybody else.
“it would be my honor.”
wriothesley grew up around danger; his childhood was constantly filled with the fear of people who lurked behind dark corners, his teenage years spent fighting to reverse the system that was once used to punish him. he’ll try to be the least dangerous that he can be (although he’s pretty sure that’s not the danger you were talking about), and for you, he’ll endeavor to do his best.
much like the letters that he’ll continue to send you, he seals his pledge with a kiss.
SIGHS. thank u for reading if youve made it this far!! wriothesley responding to letters is me w/ my texts 👎👎 fuck online communication that shit is unnatural
YOU GUYS ARE CRAZY FOR 4K+ I never imagined to reach such a milestone, huhu. Thank you guys—each and every one of you for getting us here. I’ve been disappearing and resurfacing so often these days, but swear, I’m back !! I LOVE YOU GUYS !! THANK YOU AGAIN <33
☆ミ DETAILS.
Mutuals get five entries, while everyone only gets three. Please take your time in formulating your request, especially since each particular segment has a certain requirement.
This would go on from June 9 to June 15!
For anonymous entries, that can’t be done since the requirements are sending specific photos that a particular segment asks for!
Fandoms included are ATLA, Haikyuu, JJK, MHA and TWST.
You guys are crazy (positive). YOUR SUPPORT JUST SENDS ME STRAIGHT TO ORBIT; I LOVE YOU ALL <33 Get tackled by a wild Eumy, teehee
☆ミ ON CLOUD 9 MECHANICS.
Send in the information needed for each prompt/segment. BUT you must also attach a picture of a cloud that you took for every request. No cloud pictures result to the nullification of your request. ONE CLOUD PICTURE PER ONE REQUEST. Have fun!
CIRRUS — send me a character and I’ll give you an accurate song they remind me of!
CIRROCUMULUS — send me a character and I’ll tell you how you two first meet!
CIRROSTRATUS — send me a character and I’ll make a simple moodboard!
ALTOCUMULUS — send me 2-3 characters and I’ll tell you their love language in detail!
ALTOSTRATUS — send me a character and I’ll tell you how and why you two broke up.
NIMBOSTRATUS — send me a character and I’ll tell you what kind of dates you two would be having!
CUMULUS — send me a character and I’ll make a mini 100 word drabble with your chosen prompt!
CUMULONIMBUS — realistically, how would this character be in a relationship with you (please include details of your personality, lifestyle, and preferences).
STRATOCUMULUS — appearance matchup! (just send in a picture of yourself, and the fandom of your preference)
STRATUS — send me 2-3 characters and I’ll tell you very specific relationship headcanons!
i think abt my 2020-2021 tumblr era all the time. its also my best kept secret. very little of my friends know abt my famous past. my boyfriend knows too but ive never told him the specific anime i wrote for and it drives him crazy 😜
hiiiii, it’s been awhile since i’ve done a matchup - so i’m excited to see that your matchups are open! please, take your time with this, there’s no rush! and remember that your super appreciated ;>
i would like a long, romantic matchup please! she/her pronouns, and i would like to be paired with a guy. my ideal partner would be in touch with their emotional side, caring, and attentive to detail. he would also be very hardworking and talk a lot with me be uase i love to yap. bascially i need someone to listen and respond with care ykwim. as for myself, i would describe myself as an academic weapon and constantly busy with extracurriculars. beyond that, i love helping others and socializing a lot. my hobbies include sewing, baking and crocheting. both my love langauge recieving and giving is physical touch. my ideal date is at the aquarium because i could watch the fishes and other sea creatures for HOURS. lastly, my personality type is enjf-t.
thank you again! and moots if you’re interested? don’t stress about having this completed asap! i know how that feels <3
headcanons
🥛 honestly i had a hard time choosing between kita and akaashi for you
🥛 eventually i chose kita because i feel like akaashi overthinks a bit more and kita is a little more emotionally mature / in tune with his own emotions
🥛 kita fits your ideal partner description almost perfectly
🥛 he's super observant and would be so attentive as a partner
🥛 the kind of boyfriend you would never be embarrassed showing off to your friends or your family
🥛 the actual definition of hardworking
🥛 although having a conversation with him can sometimes be a bit confusing since he's rather stoic
🥛 but you'll notice that his eyes soften whenever he looks at you
🥛 and i don't think he'd shy away from talking with someone he cares about
🥛 he'd also be very good at articulating his thoughts so if you ask for his opinion he wouldn't hesitate to tell you the truth
🥛 i think the case with kita is that he just doesn't have a lot to talk about with his teammates besides volleyball so he may come off as scary or unapproachable
🥛 (i'm a lot like him; with my friends i talk a lot but with my teammates there's an inherent distance between us and ig i come off as rude or mean because of it)
🥛 kita's also an academic weapon
🥛 honestly the two of you would be a power couple if you date when you're both in high school
🥛 kita would get teased a little but his teammates would honestly be too scared to make fun of you too much
🥛 kita has that quiet but scary energy and you know he'd always be there to protect you if anyone ever made you feel uncomfortable or upset
🥛 your hobbies line up with kita's personality too; they're really chill and relaxing
🥛 unfortunately i'd imagine that post-timeskip he's pretty busy as a rice farmer so he doesn't have a lot of free time
🥛 but on his days off he'd love spending time with you inside just reading while you sew or crochet
🥛 would somehow pick up crocheting just by watching you and make the most perfect crochet plushie ever and give it to you as a surprise
🥛 kita prefers to show his love through actions so you'll definitely receive the best care with him as your boyfriend
🥛 he'll hold your hand when you're out but definitely won't do any over the top pda
🥛 in private though he'd definitely be more comfortable
🥛 would probably rest a hand on your head when you're cuddling together
🥛 he isn't the type to initiate physical affection but wouldn't shy away if you did
🥛 i headcanon kita as a chill date kind of guy so he'd definitely prefer calmer / soothing places
🥛 an aquarium has the perfect vibes, you'd just be watching the animals for hours on end
🥛 he'd probably bring you into a really cool room with dim lighting where life feels so ethereal (like a room with a jellyfish tank or some glow in the dark tanks)
🥛 so you can get away from the bustle of the rest of the public space and instead just focus on each other <3
runner up for you was akaashi keiji!
A/N: hi moot! i hope you liked your matchup! sorry about the long wait 😣 got writer's block and burnout for a few days and didn't end up doing any of my requests
