Summary: In which someone makes a bet that they wouldn't catch you if you ran towards them at full speed while their hands are full. So, you decided to test it out.
Characters: Illuga, Lohen, Xiao, Kinich
Illuga
Absolutely, 100%
Would drop everything in his hands just to catch you even if he was holding something precious or fragile. The only time he wouldn't catch you would be if he was holding something sharp or dangerous, anything that could potentially harm you if he accidentally dropped you.
“!? W-Wait! I'm still holding onto Sir Flins’ supplies!! If you fall—”
Despite his increasingly panicked attempts at persuasion, his body moved quicker than his mind. In less than a second, his hands had already dropped everything onto the floor and his feet were planted firmly into the ground, arms spread widely to catch you just in the nick of time
Uses his entire body to cushion the impact and slow you down, making sure that even if the two of you were to fall, he would be the one hitting the ground first. Luckily, his feet were planted firmly enough into the ground that none of you ended up tumbling onto the ground, with yourself landing safely into his arms.
After double (maybe triple) checking that you weren't hurt, he proceeds to chew your ear off for the next hour or so, reprimanding you for your reckless and irresponsible actions. That was far too dangerous! What if he slipped before he could catch you!?
“Don't ever do something so reckless again. If you do, don't expect me to catch you again (｀ヘ´)”
He absolutely would. But he would also prefer if you were to greet him normally next time instead of giving him a heart attack
… At least the feeling of carrying you in his arms more than makes up for it
(More below the cut)
Lohen
“Oh?”
He watched as you hurled yourself towards his direction, intrigue and a hint of puzzlement sketched onto his face
Depending on the time of day, there's a 50% chance Lohen would open his arms and catch you so that the two of you would fall together, as well as another 50% chance that he'll wait right up until the moment you're almost in front of him, step aside and then catch you just as you were about to fall face first into the ground. What can he say? An eye for an eye, a surprise for a surprise.
Honestly, he finds your trust in him rather endearing. Even though you know that he has a million tricks up his sleeves, you still chose to run towards him at full speed with your arms wide open, not caring if he was in the mood to catch you or not. It made his heart sing with pride, knowing that you had such blind trust in him.
Fortunately for you, he decided to play nice today and catch you immediately. The moment he tosses everything away and your body hits his, one of his hands curls around the back of your head while his other arm slyly snakes around your waist, keeping you pressed as closely to him as possible even when his back hits the gravel below.
“Too bad. Such tricks just aren’t enough to catch me off guard, darling.”
He doesn't try to fight back the wolfish grin surfacing on his face, nor say a word back when you start complaining. Only when you start trying to lift yourself off of him does he make his move. In the blink of an eye, he rolls over and pins you down into the same patch of gravel he was once lying on top, trailing his hand slowly from the back of your head down the back of your neck, all the way to your collarbones.
“Next time, don't announce yourself before you start running— not like that would stop me from sensing your presence beforehand anyways~”
Xiao
“Absolutely, 100%” the sequel
Wouldn't even think before dropping everything to catch up to you. He would even take a few steps forward to lessen the amount of time it would take for you to reach him before patiently waiting for your arrival with his arms wide open, counting down the seconds until you found your way home
Just like the first time he caught you back at the Jade Chamber, his arms are firmly wrapped around yours. Only this time, instead of them being over your shoulders, they are pressed closely yet warmly against your back, gently pushing you to fall deeper into his arms until your head hits his chest
“Did you need me?”
He asks in a calm, steady voice, thinking that any matter that required you to run to his side with such urgency without calling his name was one of utmost importance. If you had called, he would've undoubtedly reached your side in a moment's notice, perhaps even before his name had fully even left your lips. Too quickly? Nonsense. In his eyes, that was the least he should do.
When you told him that you simply wanted to see if he would drop everything just to catch you, he would blink in surprise before letting out a scoff so soft that it couldn't be called anything but fondness.
“If you think our bond was that weak, you needn't test me. I wouldn’t have appeared before you if you didn't mean anything to me.”
After a flicker of hesitation passed his face, he lowered his face and awkwardly nuzzled his forehead against yours, suppressing the urge to look away in order to whisper against your lips.
“... Since you're here now, can you stay a little longer? There’s a plate of almond tofu here that I would like you to try… Who made it?... I… cannot say.”
Kinich
“Ajaw”
“???”
“Catch”
“！？！？ KINICH YOU @%£@%@£@%£@@%@%£@££@%@%%@£@”
Tosses everything to Ajaw and forces him to catch it all before opening his arms as wide as possible, readily bracing for your impact
Honestly, if he had more time to prepare, he would’ve preferred putting everything aside to make better preparations on how to catch you. However, since the things he was holding onto were needn't to complete a commission, he had no choice but to rely his closest companion (which unfortunately had to be Ajaw) and improvise on the spot
Luckily, all that time he spent carrying you around his house before had taught him all he needed to know. Before you had even reached him, he took a few steps forward and waited for you to skid to a stop. Once you did, he ceremoniously placed one arm behind your knee, one arm behind your back and BAM— a princess carry.
“... Should I ask?”
He raises a questioning brow, waiting for you to speak. Once you finish your explanation, he simply sighs before pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head, looking down at you with a mix of exasperation and affection.
“The price for scaring me doesn't come cheap. I hope you're ready to pay for that stunt you just pulled tonight.”
Your voice easily reached Lohen's ears, cool gaze turning to you, now with a softer touch to them. However subtle it was to anyone who wasn't perceptive enough.
"Shame... That was my last one."
Came the vice captain's casual answer once the bubble popped, a slight shrug to his shoulders before you caught a brief glimpse of something in his eyes. That familiar mischievous glint, before the corner of his lips curled up slightly.
He was definitely up to something...
"Although, I can give you one. As long as you're willing to pay the price..."
Lohen drawled out, almost sing songed if only he wasn't trying to hide his very clear (to you) intention.
You raised an eyebrow at him, he knows you're suspicious of him. It was always easy to tell with you.
"But it's just gum", you reasoned, hoping what he had in mind, he would reconsider the weight of whatever payment he was demanding.
"That's not an answer~"
"Alright fine. What is it?"
The grin on his face grew wider, and you were convinced he'd tell you to go all the way back to the city to buy him some. With a time limit and punishment in store.
NOT to suddenly see his face up close, warm lips pressed firmly against yours. They move purposefully, earning a gasp from you when his tongue brushed over the seam of your lips. At least he was asking permission, probably...
He takes the opportunity quickly, running the wet muscle against your own. Relentless, even as you felt your knees grow weak. As if he's adamant to steal all the air from you.
Sharp eyes half lidded as he watched your reactions closely, before he finally pulled away. Leaving you breathless as intended.
"L-Lohen!", was the only thing you managed to get out once you were able to breathe again.
An amused chuckle left him as he eyed your flustered self. No remorse nor shame. Just pure enjoyment.
"What? It's just gum... Right?"
If it wasn't for that, you wouldn't even have noticed the candy now in your mouth...
"I just saw the latest leaks that Lohen's constellation is a rabbit. So, what if Alice turned him into a rabbit and asked you to take care of him? You have no idea the rabbit is actually Lohen, and the two of you end up eating, bathing, and sleeping together."
OH DEAR, ANOTHER ONE HERE?
Lohen x apprentice!reader: approximately 1.4k words (I genuinely cannot stop writing unless I’m satisfied with the background of the scenarios). Uhh might be ooc Lohen cuz..well..there’s really not much known about him. Use of “you” only. Not proofread bc I had to stop writing 7 times and continued building my mc house instead.
ALICE has always been one for entertaining almost every idea that pops into her or her daughter’s head. Somehow, as her newly appointed apprentice, you’ve been on the receiving end of the results. In fact, when it came to rather..material things, she’d just shove it to your hands like you had no choice! (Which you didn’t, really.) Hence, every time a guest comes over, you’d always hear about how ‘personalized’ your room was—given that there were things decorated that were contrasting, to say the least.
Looking around your room in a humble home in Mondstadt, you’d just have to agree with them, sighing as you recalled a memory of one of her whims.
“I tried experimenting on turning hilichurls into plushies!” She once excitedly exclaimed, holding up a cotton-made, somewhat creepy miniature of a hilichurl. “Isn’t it cute? My, my, I’d say we can even dress it up!” Giggling, she set it down for a moment as she talked (mostly to herself), while you had to stand there in silence. Because, what? What does she mean, she just turned a hilichurl into a damned toy?! Needless to say, that toy now rests in your nightstand with a few other trinkets. ‘Oh goodness, the poor hilichurl..he even has a frilly dress on now..’
If Alice wasn’t enough of a headache for you with all her weird experiments, the Vice Captain just had to come to the picture as well. He’d approached you with a smile once, on your first encounter outside Mondstadt’s gates, when Alice first sent you to the town. He was sent to welcome you in, and you thought he was a rather strange but easy to talk to guy. He was just to show you around, and it was the case for at least a week. Until after, asking if you knew how to fight. Once you responded no, he’d asked if you can make something to fight.
Obviously not! Was he crazy?! You had to smile at him just to not explode.
Since then, you’d tried avoiding him and Alice (which, really, you can only do so much before you get sentenced to #dropout).
Again, it’s not like you can hide from Alice anyway. Because she just showed up in your room. With a bunny.
“What the—!” Your shock was cut short by your mentor’s hand shutting you up as she tutted. “Now, now. I did tell you not to curse, yes?” You almost scoffed. Still, you nodded and she retracted her hand from your mouth to the.. oh, that’s a rabbit. Bunnies, you’ve seen, are definitely smaller. Oh dear, here’s another one of her experiments…
“This young one was–!” It was your turn to cut her off, “–was another unfortunate experiment? Or a just-to-be?” You sighed, taking the rabbit in your hand. It looks normal, even if it had unusually red and some sort of blue colored eyes. Still, you figured she was just about to use it. Hell, maybe she already started. Poor, unfortunate thing. You hugged it, caressing the fur in an attempt to comfort the animal. “Master, please stop torturing these souls!”
She gasped, hand on her heart like she was offended. “I do none of the sort, I’ll have you know! This is all in the name of advancing magic, dear.” As if. You rolled your eyes, “Okay, and how would this cutie have helped?” The rabbit seemed to jump a bit at that, which made you look pensively. “You’ll see! Buh-bye now, take care of him, ‘kay?” Before you could react properly, she was gone. So this is a male?
Clicking your tongue, you turned your attention back to the rabbit at hand. “You hungry, little guy?” Cooing at its affectionate nature—which seemed off, for some reason— you made your way to your kitchen area. You didn’t have much besides a few staple food items like cabbage, so you figured it would do. Not even bothering to cut it, you tore out a piece as you leveled your head the same as the animal, nudging the piece to its direction. “Here, eat.”
You swear the rabbit looked pissed. Shit, maybe it’s the type to explode? How different is this from the one that Outrider had? Better treat it nicely. Laughing awkwardly to yourself, you spoke in a slower, nicer tone. “Um..uh..bunny, eat this so you don’t die of hunger, ‘kay? Do you not like it? Aww.” Taking it into your arms once again, you tried feeding it to the best of your abilities.
After a while, it seemed to relax in its position in your chest. Yes, chest. Well, maybe it was comfy. “You sleepy, little guy? You know, you’re much better company than I thought.” Sighing, you thought of the people around you. It might be strange to be acquainted with an animal, but at least it doesn’t pose a threat. Yet. “Better than a certain mentor of mine or a crazy, battle maniac of a knight, at least.”
The rabbit didn’t seem to like that because you swear it just attempted to kill you with the way it jumped to your face. “Hey—!” What monster is this?! It almost tackled you into the ground!
After a good 10 minutes of arguing (?) with the animal, you were left laying down on the floor, breathless. You had to admit defeat—fortunately it didn’t kill you, but somehow it now opted to rest on your neck. Scary part is it seems ready to use its claws. You take back your earlier statement, this rabbit was nuts! Another scarier part is that it stinks.
“Okay, you maniac, if you don’t kill me first with your claws I’m gonna be killed by your hygiene.” Huffing, you strutted towards your bathroom. “Guess we’ll have to make sure you’re clean.” You had to bathe yourself, anyway. You set it down on the counter, preparing before undressing yourself and getting in the bath.
Until sudden splashes of water poured down your form as the rabbit jumped in with you. For goodness sake’s, isn’t it supposed to be scared of water?! “Ah come on! I was gonna clean you up after me.” Still, it’s not like you had the skill to battle and argue and nag a crazy rabbit in the bath, so you just suck it up, taking it into your arms once again as you grumpily reach for the soap.
You swear the rabbit looked pleased with himself as you held him in all your naked glory. Archons, even animals are perverted now? This is starting to get real strange, but you chose to ignore it for the sake of your sanity and tried your best to not displease the little animal. (Keyword: best, as it somehow had a goal to knock down everything that could be knocked down. It even got a hold of something sharp for some reason..)
By the time you’re getting into bed, you’ve stopped caring about the details. It’s been a real exhausting day. For some reason, this little maniac reminded you of someone who, for some reason, has yet to show himself at your doorstep with a request to make something for him yet again. In a way, it’s like an animal counterpart..
But you couldn’t think straight enough to care. Opting to put on meager clothes, because you’d rather not suffer through the heat of sleeping beside an animal with fur, and embraced it anyway. Even if it might just pounce and kill during your slumber. “Goodnight, little guy. You should..really thank me for.. getting you off of her hands, you know..?” You smiled as best as you could while your mind was fighting with unconsciousness, which won in the end anyway as you drifted off to sleep.
Unfortunately, you might have thought too much about the Vice Captain before you slept.
Because why else would he be in your bed, sleeping beside you, and basically cuddling you if not for you being in some sort of weird dream?!
That thought quickly evaporated as he shifted in his sleep, seemingly. No, this couldn’t be the knight that bothered you with that teasing smile and eyes. He looked too peaceful and innocent. You refuse to accept it.
Maybe you did something to offend the archons as he suddenly stirs awake, eyes taking in your form. “Oh? What a lovely sight to see in the morning. Dare I say, rivaling the one last night.” His lower morning voice echoed through the room, somehow having more audacity to shift closer and nuzzle into your form, as if he wasn’t already holding you with his hand in your waist and his other underneath your head. “You seem uncomfortable, little mage. I thought you found me cute?”
no use of y/n. gender neutral reader. scp foundation au. disinformation agent!lohen. researcher!reader. crushes. lohen is making up excuses to see you. wc1k
or read here on ao3!
“So you make things up all day?” you clarify. The conversation had gotten side-tracked to focus on his job and what it is that he does exactly.
“No, no, I’m not making things up! I’m redirecting attention!” Lohen shakes his head. He sits across from you at one of the breakroom tables. His gaze is solely on you, it’s unnerving.
“By lying,” you say. He shrugs his shoulders and doesn’t respond to that.
You don’t usually connect with this side of the foundation, but after a security breach and a dire need to get the public to calm down and forget any of this happened at all, you have become more aware of the disinformation unit.
You knew of them previously, of course, they’re notorious for what they do. They sit in their offices and make things up when things go wrong. You hadn’t met any members of that particular unit until a few days prior when you ran into one of them in your unit's breakroom asking questions, his distinctive lanyard hung around his neck.
Lohen, in charge of his own sub-unit. He has the final say in the stories for breaches in this facility. You know there’s supposed to be someone above him, but the person above has other duties, so it’s easier to delegate more often than not.
Apparently he was over there gathering a little more information on the details to keep whatever lie the foundation approved spinning that pulled on the most grounded in reality version it could. The more you listen to him talk, the less you’re convinced he was telling the truth.
Fluorescent lights buzz above your heads, painting the entire room a sterile white made worse by the white and cream decorating choices by the foundation. Sure this is a government facility with labs, but does it need to look so…bleak?
He leans a little too much into your personal space. “So, you’re sure that’s all you know about the containment breach?” Lohen asks, returning to his original line of questioning and reason for being here at all.
“You’ve asked that already,” you swirl your coffee in your mug. It’s gone cold. You don’t know what else you can tell him that you haven’t already.
“Just getting my details right,” Lohen responds easily. “This stuff is hard, you know.”
“I’m sure,” you say flatly. It’s not supposed to come out as scathing, but you’ve had a long day. Your research team has its own fall-out to deal with after containment breaches and he’s been here for a while and chatting with you about nothing. His interview has spiraled out into everything but talking about the details of the breach.
You aren’t sure how the conversation derailed at all. One minute you were talking about the properties of the SCP that escaped, and the next minute he was asking you mundane details about your job and that morphed into asking about you.
Lohen is wholly unperturbed by your attitude. He smiles a bit wider. “It’s tough to make this stuff convincing, I mean, big monster escapes government facility? You try making up something that sounds good.”
You don’t have a comeback to that, so you take a drink of your coffee, letting the bitterness wash down your throat. The coffee here isn’t very good, but it’s something. It distracts you from Lohen’s presence as he looks at you. You’re starting to think he has a staring problem. Relatively harmless, but still a staring problem.
He’s lucky that he’s pretty, you would have snapped at him to get moving already if he wasn’t. As it is, you’re considering telling him just that. You will yourself to look at him again, meeting his eyes.
“Alright, alright, I have a few more questions but they can wait until tomorrow,” Lohen raises his hands in surrender. A sly smile plays on his lips. He reminds you of a cat, the naughty kind that likes pushing glasses off of the counter. He pushes his chair back and stands.
“Tomorrow?” you ask. Surely he has everything that he needs by now. He was here yesterday too.
Lohen misinterprets your confusion as an affirmation, perhaps intentionally, flashing you a thumbs up. “Tomorrow it is,” he confirms. He steps out of your space then, turning toward the door. He pauses long enough to look over his shoulder as he reaches toward the door. “Don’t miss me too much,” he teases.
“I won’t” you raise your coffee mug slightly, a mockery of a ‘cheers.’ It seems to please him, because he laughs slightly to himself and turns back toward the door.
Your friend, another researcher, passes by Lohen on his way out. He holds the door open for them. They glance at him as they walk in, waiting for the door to shut before glancing at you with open curiosity. “Why was he back? The story the foundation is pushing was published yesterday.”
It was published yesterday. Meaning there are no more details to gather on it. Meaning Lohen lied to your face. And for what! You blink once.
“Published,” you repeat a bit dumbly. He has absolutely no reason to come back tomorrow. He had no reason to come find you today. You stare down at your coffee, confusion and irritation joining hands as they bubble low in your gut. It’s softened by a gentle giddiness in your chest that you can’t find the right words to describe.
You’re glad he’s coming back, for some unknown reason despite his annoying demeanor. His reasons for returning are lost on you, maybe you’ll bring it up. No, you think you’ll stay quiet and see how long he drags the excuse while you try and figure out what it is that he wants from you. You don’t want anything to backfire by bringing it up first, you don’t even know his motives.
Good plan, you think to yourself. A disinformation agent is always a liar and you’ll get to the bottom of this. For no reason beyond curiosity, of course.
It shouldn't have come as a surprise to you, yet it does.
While others may fear these hands, you've learnt to treasure them— after all, these are the same hands who hold you close in the middle of the night, whispering quiet reassurances to combat your doubts; the very ones belonging to the person who protects you from every form of harm that threatens to penetrate your skin or mind, letting not a single injury be inflicted upon you.
"Bun, are you sure you don't want me to hunt them down later?"
The way Lohen looks up at you causes a chill to run down the other knights' spines. With a maniacal glint in his eyes spells trouble and his dagger twirling round and round his forefinger like a carousel, it does not take a genius to know what Lohen is planning. However, it is easier for the stomachs of the average person to imagine what the vice captain couldn't do to those foolish men— the ones who hit on you right outside the gates of the city, right in front of him— rather than know what he could do to them.
Luckily, you aren't oblivious nor the average person. If Lohen stands as the blizzard that sweeps across the battlefield with the weight of a thousand winters, you stand as the winds that are enable or disable the tempestuous force of nature your lover becomes to all those who cross you. Such is the language of love and trust the two of you speak.
Your hands reach for his cape (just in case he runs off) before you shake your head, prompting a pout to appear on Lohen's face.
"Come onnnn, just a little poison to their drinks won't kill em." He pauses, then grins sadistically. "Ohhh, but there is one concoction I've been dying to test out. Should make the drinker hallucinate everyone around them as a slime before shitting their pants out. Hey bun, are you still upset by them? If you are then—"
"Lohen."
Your voice firmly calling his name is enough to make his shoulder sag, hair drooping downwards like the ears of a disappointed rabbit.
"Fineee. Geez, you're no fun sometimes."
He hides his dagger back into the sleeve before reaching out to push his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers together until he has one of your hands tightly lock in his in a lover's grip.
Even through the thick material of his gloves, you can still feel how frigid his hands are compared to the average person. While the chill of his palm doesn't compare to the chilling words he uttered out earlier, it's still a significant enough difference that you find yourself unconsciously squeezing his fingers in quiet reassurance, conveying how happy you feel knowing that he is willing to do all that and more for you.
Ever a master at detecting your thoughts and emotions, Lohen firmly squeezes your fingers back with a gentleness that people rarely see from the vice captain of the fifth company. Likewise, the smirk on his face softens into a genuine smile, one that melts away the icy exterior he built for himself into something warmer, something more approachable.
(How lucky you are to be one of the few to see this side of him every day. If there truly is a place in the sky for everyone living in Teyvat, you hope that you can rip down the stars from your constellation to place them next to his— before he does the same to his constellation for you.)
"You're blushing, you know that?"
He points out matter of factly, bursting out into laughter when you scramble to cover your face with your free hand. The endearing sight has him reaching out with his other hand to cup your face, turning your head back towards him before landing his lips over yours for a long, deep kiss. Usually, such kisses are reserved for private moments and not in front of the whole city, but none of you could care less. Not in this moment.
After what feels like a century of exchanging the same air in his lungs with yours, you finally pull away to whisper the words he has been longing to hear after that long five year expedition.
"Welcome home."
"Yeah, I'm home."
While the other knights rush past the two of you, eager to head back to their significant other, families or children back at home, you and Lohen remain at the front of the city gate for a while. Long enough to remind each other that this is not another dream in a sleepless night but reality.
Even when his caressesing hand wanders from your face to above your waist, even when the frosty bite of his palm sticks itself to your skin while you're laying in his bed that night, never once do you attempt to move away from him.
Lohen's hands are cold, but your love and devotion towards him is more than enough to warm him up.
lohen x mage f!reader someone who's in the hexenzirkel like i remember the nod krai quest which was so peak but looking back at nicole and varka i wonder how it would be w lohen like yes the reader should lowk be like Nicole but not exactly... in a way...
get it??
I think I understand what you mean. Hopefully this oneshot envisioned what you had in mind. And if I got it all wrong then I’m so sorry in advance!
Also imma be honest with you, while I did finish the nod krai quest, I legit don’t remember what happened. It was way too long for me to process stuff, so in advance this oneshot might sound, well, not the same as it is in canon.
I also added my own little spin to this, how I thought maybe I give the reader a little side quest thing in nod krai to potentially explore.
Although I will say I’m excited to write about Lohen! One of my top favourite characters fr
╰┈☆ Magic Words ☆┈╯
Lohen x mage!f reader
Words: 2405
Cw: None.
Not beta read. Some spelling or grammar errors might be seen
The Witch Who Listens.
That’s what you were most known as among the people of Teyvat.
Though not as well known as Alice or even Nicole, you were still a member of the Hexenzirkel. And that title alone meant more than enough to establish that you were just as powerful as any of them.
They said your powers were those of memory, dreams, emotions, or echoes.
You could perceive things that had happened in a location, sense fragments of people's memories, and, if you focused hard enough, even catch glimpses of emotions that had long since faded.
It was a useful skill.
Unsettling, too.
Which was exactly why you preferred to keep your abilities to yourself.
You never liked the way people looked at you whenever they found out what you could do.
Some were fascinated.
Others were afraid.
And there were always those who wondered if you could see their memories.
You could.
But that didn't mean you wanted to.
So you kept your distance.
You preferred your own company, finding that people were far too exhausting to deal with for long periods of time. You had your books, your magic, your research, and, most importantly, your peace.
Alice had tried countless times to drag you out of your solitude.
"Come with me!"
"No."
"You haven't even heard where we're going!"
"I don't need to."
And somehow, despite your repeated refusals, she never seemed discouraged.
You were perfectly content going at your own pace.
Or, at least, you had been.
Until Nod-Krai.
You hadn't intended to go there.
In fact, if someone had told you a few weeks ago that you'd willingly travel all the way to Nod-Krai, you probably would've laughed in their face.
Nod-Krai was hardly the sort of place you sought out.
A remote region south of Snezhnaya.
A place where different factions crossed paths, where the Abyss and the Wild Hunt had left their mark, and where even the people who called the region home had their own struggles to contend with.
You had no reason to involve yourself.
At least, that was what you had told yourself.
Then the reports began arriving.
Strange disturbances.
Unusual magical activity.
Memories lingering in places where they shouldn't.
And, most importantly...
Echoes.
Echoes that shouldn't have existed.
Normally, you would've ignored it.
After all, there was always something happening somewhere in Teyvat. You had no reason to involve yourself in every little incident simply because your abilities could be useful.
Then Nicole contacted you.
And when another member of the Hexenzirkel personally sought your assistance, it was usually for a reason.
.
.
.
"Pretty please?"
You could practically hear the amusement in Nicole's voice when she had asked.
You had stared at the empty space in front of you for several moments.
"...You're really pulling the Hexenzirkel card?"
"Maybe."
You sighed.
Of course she was.
Nicole had a way of making requests sound like suggestions while somehow making it impossible to refuse them.
"There's something strange happening in Nod-Krai."
"I've heard."
"Then you know why I'm asking."
"I know why you're asking."
"And?"
You had remained silent.
"Come on."
"...Fine."
"I knew you'd say yes."
"Don't sound so pleased with yourself."
You could practically hear her smiling.
.
.
.
And that was how you found yourself aboard a ship bound for Nod-Krai.
You weren't alone, either.
The vessel carried members of the Knights of Favonius who were travelling to join Grand Master Varka and the Mondstadt expedition already operating in the region.
You had barely been on board for an hour when someone approached you.
"Who are you?"
You looked up from your book.
A man stood a short distance away, his gaze fixed on you.
You recognized him immediately.
Lohen.
Vice Captain of the Knights of Favonius' Fifth Company.
You had heard the name before.
You'd heard stories, too.
A knight who enjoyed fighting.
Someone who wasn't particularly opposed to charging headfirst into danger.
And, if the rumors were anything to go by, someone who had a rather questionable relationship with poison.
You closed your book.
"A traveler."
Lohen stared.
"...That's it?"
"That's what I said."
He studied you for a moment longer.
"And you're heading to Nod-Krai?"
"Apparently."
"Apparently?"
"A friend asked me to go."
"Friend?"
You hesitated.
"...Nicole."
That got his attention. Lohen's expression changed almost immediately.
"Nicole?"
"Yes."
“…The Hexenzirkel witch?"
You nodded.
His eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity.
"Then you're a witch."
"Observant."
"And you're going to Nod-Krai because she asked you to?"
"Yes."
He continued staring.
You stared back.
Neither of you spoke for several seconds.
Then Lohen finally sighed, shaking his head.
"You're strange."
"And you're nosy."
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Fair enough."
You returned to your book.
You assumed that would be the end of the conversation.
It wasn't.
Over the course of the journey, Lohen found numerous excuses to speak to you.
Sometimes it was about the weather.
Sometimes it was about Nod-Krai.
Sometimes it was simply because he wanted to know what you were reading.
You eventually realized what he was doing.
He was watching you.
Monitoring you.
Trying to determine whether you were hiding something.
You couldn't exactly blame him.
You were a Hexenzirkel witch, after all.
And he was a knight travelling into an unfamiliar land where danger could appear at any moment.
Still...
It was irritating.
By the time you finally arrived in Nod-Krai, you had learned one thing about Lohen.
He didn't trust easily.
You could relate.
The cold air immediately hit you as you stepped onto the unfamiliar land, the wind carrying tiny flakes of snow across the ground.
You had only just arrived.
Yet something already felt wrong.
Not dangerous.
Not exactly.
Just...
off.
Your fingers twitched.
A faint violet glow curled around them, thin strands of magic flickering between your fingertips before disappearing into the cold air.
You frowned.
An echo.
Already?
You slowly lowered your hand.
"You're awfully quiet."
You glanced sideways.
Lohen was walking beside you, his gaze fixed ahead as the two of you made your way toward the Mondstadt expedition's encampment.
"I'm always quiet."
"Not like this."
You raised an eyebrow.
"You've known me for how long?"
"Long enough."
That answer earned him a small scoff.
Of course it did.
You had spent enough time around Lohen during the journey to realize that he was far more observant than you initially gave him credit for.
Annoyingly so.
He noticed things.
Things you preferred people didn't notice.
The slight change in your expression whenever your magic reacted to something.
The way you became quieter whenever you sensed an unfamiliar memory lingering in an area.
The way you avoided touching certain objects because you knew exactly what might happen if you did.
And right now...
Your fingers were beginning to glow again.
A faint violet light curled around them, thin strands of magic flickering between your fingertips before disappearing into the cold air.
Lohen noticed immediately.
"You've sensed something."
You stopped walking.
For a moment, you said nothing.
Then you looked toward the path ahead.
"...Yes."
The feeling was faint.
Almost impossible to notice.
But you knew it.
An echo.
Something had happened here.
Something that had left a memory behind.
And whatever it was...
It didn't want to be forgotten.
With a small hum of curiosity, you slowly lowered your hand as Lohen watched you carefully.
"What did you see?" He asked, crossing his arms.
"Nothing."
You answered too quickly. Lohen's eyebrow raised.
"You stopped walking."
"I said I saw nothing."
"You also said that the last time you sensed something."
"And was I wrong?"
"No."
"Then there you go."
Lohen groans, like a whiny child that was being kept from learning secrets, and he wanted to know.
"You really don't like telling people things, do you?"
"No."
He pouted before exhaling, shrugging his shoulders.
"At least you're honest."
You were about to continue walking when a familiar voice suddenly echoed through your mind.
“There you are.”
You froze.
"...Oh, no."
Lohen looked at you, his head tilting slightly.
"What?"
You rubbed your temple.
"I know that voice."
A faint laugh followed.
“You really should stop ignoring my calls.”
Your expression flattened.
"Nicole."
Lohen's attention immediately sharpened.
He recognized the name.
The voice of the Hexenzirkel witch continued inside your head, amused as ever.
“I was wondering when you'd finally notice.”
"Notice what?"
“The same thing you've just sensed.”
Your gaze drifted back toward the path.
The strange echo was still there.
Faint.
Buried beneath the layers of magic surrounding Nod-Krai.
But now that Nicole had mentioned it, you could feel something else underneath it.
Something much older.
"What does this have to do with Nod-Krai?"
“Everything.”
You frowned.
Of course she wouldn't simply explain.
Nicole had always been like that.
She knew far more than she ever told you, and somehow managed to make every answer sound like another question.
“There's something happening here.” Nicole continued. ‘Something even I can't completely see.”
"Then why are you asking me?"
“Because you're the Witch Who Listens.”
You rolled your eyes.
"You know I hate that title."
“And yet it suits you perfectly.”
"Nicole."
“You'll need to investigate the echoes.”
You glanced toward Lohen.
He had remained silent throughout the entire exchange.
"And if I don't?"
There was a brief silence.
Then Nicole's voice softened.
“Then someone else may hear them first.”
Your expression changed.
"...Who?"
“That's what I need you to find out.”
The connection disappeared.
Silence returned.
For several seconds, neither you nor Lohen said anything.
Then—
"So."
You looked at him. "Nicole wants me to investigate something." Was all that came out of your mouth, as Lohen hummed out loud in response.
"Just you?"
You paused.
"Apparently."
Lohen smirked. Hands on hips as he decided something.
"I'll come with you."
You stared at him dumbfounded, before staring with suspicion.
"Why?"
"Because you shouldn't be investigating something strange and potentially dangerous alone."
You narrowed your eyes.
"Are you always this persistent?"
"Usually."
"...You're starting to sound like Alice."
"Oh~? I'll take that as a compliment."
"It wasn't."
He laughed.
And despite yourself, you smiled before looking away.
You continued toward the expedition camp. You were here for more than Nicole's request.
The Knights of Favonius had come to Nod-Krai as part of Varka's expedition, and if there was anything you could do to help, you would.
You simply weren't entirely sure what that help would look like yet.
You had heard enough about the situation to know that Nod-Krai was dangerous.
The Abyss.
The Wild Hunt.
The various factions operating throughout the region.
And whatever it was that had drawn the Knights so far from Mondstadt.
You'd find out soon enough.
Beside you, Lohen continued walking. His arms were relaxed at his sides. His eyes, however, lingered on you.
He wondered about you.
About the strange magic that seemed to follow you.
About the Hexenzirkel.
About how strong you really were.
Lohen had always enjoyed a strong opponent.
Perhaps he could ask you for a few rounds once things settled down.
Not that he would mind finding an excuse to spend more time with you, either.
After all...
You were interesting.
And Lohen had always enjoyed interesting people.
Especially ones who looked at him like they were already regretting meeting him.
Eventually, the two of you reached the expedition's encampment. Knights of Favonius moved between tents, carrying supplies and speaking amongst themselves.
The atmosphere was busy, but organized. This wasn't some small scouting party. Varka had brought a proper expedition. And standing near the center of it all was the man you had come here to find.
Varka.
Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius.
He was speaking with several knights when he noticed the two of you approaching.
His gaze shifted from you...
To Lohen...
Then back to you.
A knowing smile slowly spread across his face.
"Well, well."
You immediately became suspicious.
"What?"
Varka folded his arms.
"I was expecting Lohen."
You blinked.
"And?"
His eyes flicked toward you.
"Didn't expect him to bring company."
You crossed your arms. As he chuckled and stepped forward and offered you his hand. You didn’t shake it, not out of rudeness but because you didn’t want to risk accidentally seeking into his memories and whatnot.
"Varka. Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius."
"I know who you are."
"Of course you do."
He grins, lowering his hand. "You're the Hexenzirkel witch Nicole sent, aren't you?"
Your eyes narrowed, not expecting this.
"...She told you?"
"In a letter. Never actually met her though, I was a little surprised to hear a Hexenzirkel was writing to me."
You immediately regretted asking.
Varka's attention shifted to Lohen.
"And you."
Lohen raised an eyebrow.
"Yes?"
"I see you've already taken an interest."
Lohen's smile became just a little more sly.
"Someone has to keep an eye on her."
You stared at him while Varka's grin widened at the response.
"Oh?"
"It's nothing."
"Didn't say it was."
Lohen glanced toward you, amusement dancing in his eyes.
You crossed your arms, growing annoyed.
"Would the two of you like to stop talking about me as though I'm not standing right here?"
Varka blinks, but playfully sighs and raises an eyebrow.
"You've been here less than an hour."
"Exactly."
Lohen chuckled beside you, amused radiating off him as Varka shook his head, and cleared his throat.
"Well, come on. We've got plenty to discuss."
He turned toward the center of the encampment. You followed and Lohen fell into step beside you.
As you both walked, you caught him glancing at you again.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You keep looking at me."
"Do I?"
"Yes."
He smiled lazily.
"You'll get used to it."
You twitched an eye. "I certainly hope not." You scoffed at him, turning your head away from him.
He laughed in response.
And just like that, the two of you continued deeper into the expedition camp. You knew that the infamous Traveler would soon become involved in Nod-Krai's unfolding crisis.
Nicole would have her own part to play. Varka's expedition would continue its investigation into the dangers threatening the region. And somewhere beneath it all, the strange echoes continued to whisper.
You couldn't yet understand what they were trying to tell you.
PREMISE . . . In which you decide to tease your lover by withholding your usual “I love you” before leaving to see how they'd react and what they would do if they noticed the sudden change.
ꫂ᭪݁ ﹕ STARRING . . . varka, dottore, pantalone, neuvilette, flins, venti, lyney, lohen (in order)
note . was gonna add more genshin men but this is already quite long um,, hope you all enjoy this piece! <3
── ( 𝒗. ) Varka would notice the missing 'I love you' almost immediately, but instead of looking genuinely bothered, he'd first give you a knowing look as though he'd already figured out exactly what you were doing.
You'd give him your usual goodbye, perhaps gathering your things and stepping toward the door, only for him to call after you with a low laugh. "That's all I'm getting?" He'd watch you turn around with an innocent expression, clearly waiting for you to admit what you'd done, but you'd simply ask what he meant.
Varka would fold his arms across his chest and grin, shaking his head as though he couldn't believe you were actually going to commit to the act. "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you've suddenly forgotten our little routine." He'd probably imitate the way you usually say it back to him just to make his point, his amusement growing when you continued pretending you had no idea what he was talking about.
Rather than immediately demanding the words, he'd let you enjoy your little joke for a while, approaching you and leaning against the doorway and watching you with that patient, entertained expression of his. You'd get a few steps away before he'd eventually call you back again, his voice carrying that unmistakable teasing warmth.
"You're really going to make me spell it out, aren't you?" When you still refused, he'd finally push himself away from the doorway and stroll over, slipping an arm comfortably around your shoulders as though he'd decided that letting you leave was no longer an option.
"You know, I could simply let you go, but then I'd spend the entire day wondering why my favorite farewell suddenly disappeared."
He'd give your shoulder a gentle squeeze, clearly far more amused than offended, and when you finally laughed and admitted you were only teasing him, he'd shake his head with a deep chuckle. "Cruel. Absolutely cruel. I leave you alone for five minutes and suddenly you've decided to test me."
Even after you'd confessed that you were joking, Varka wouldn't let you off quite that easily. He'd keep you tucked against his side for another moment, looking down at you with an exaggeratedly wounded expression before the grin returned. "You know, I was beginning to think I'd somehow forgotten something important."
He'd probably laugh at himself for having 'fallen' for it, but the fact that he'd noticed immediately would make it obvious how deeply ingrained your little routine had become.
His affection would be easy and unselfconscious, the sort that showed itself through a hand resting warmly on your shoulder, an arm around your waist, or a quick kiss against your forehead before finally allowing you to go.
Still, just as you reached the door again, he'd stop you with one last amused reminder. "Now, before you go, there's something you're supposed to say." He'd raise his eyebrows expectantly, waiting with exaggerated patience while you tried to make him say it first. Varka would eventually laugh and shake his head. "I'm not doing all the work here."
Once you finally gave in and told him you loved him, his entire expression would immediately brighten into that broad, unmistakable grin. "There we go. Much better."
He'd give you one last affectionate squeeze before releasing you, perhaps watching you walk away with his arms folded and that satisfied look still on his face. And naturally, the moment you glanced back, he'd call after you one final time just to have the last word. "Love you too, troublemaker. Try not to forget next time."
── ( 𝒅. ) Dottore would notice immediately, though his reaction would be far more restrained than the others. You'd give him your usual goodbye, perhaps already halfway through gathering your things and turning toward the door, but when you failed to return his usual declaration, his eyes would follow you with quiet, deliberate attention.
He wouldn't say anything at first. He'd simply watch for a few seconds, almost as though he were waiting to see whether you'd realize your mistake yourself.
When you continued toward the door without a second thought, he'd finally call your name in that calm, measured tone of his. "You're forgetting something." You'd pause and look back at him with an innocent expression, asking what you could possibly have forgotten, and he'd give you the faintest, knowing smile. "Don't insult my intelligence, my dear."
There'd be no uncertainty in his expression, he'd already figured out exactly what you were doing. Rather than immediately approaching you, he'd remain where he was, watching you with an almost amused patience as you continued pretending that you had absolutely no idea what he meant.
He'd let the silence stretch for a moment, perhaps even returning to whatever he'd been doing as though he weren't particularly concerned, but his attention would remain fixed on you.
Eventually, he'd set aside whatever was in his hands and approach at an unhurried pace, stopping in front of you before you could actually leave. "You normally say it back."
His tone would remain composed, almost clinical, but there'd be a subtle amusement underneath it, especially when he noticed the smile you were trying to hide.
You'd insist that you hadn't forgotten anything, and he'd simply raise an eyebrow. "Is that so?" He'd study your expression for another second before adding, "Then I suppose this is merely a coincidence." The dry sarcasm would make it obvious that he wasn't buying your act for even a moment.
Once you finally admitted that you were deliberately teasing him, Dottore would let out a quiet laugh and shake his head, looking at you with the sort of patient disbelief reserved for someone who had knowingly created a completely unnecessary problem.
"How childish." He'd say it almost dismissively, but there would be no real irritation behind it. In fact, the amusement in his expression would give him away. He'd still make absolutely certain you didn't leave without finishing the little ritual you'd interrupted, though he wouldn't simply demand the words.
Instead, he'd stand there with his hands folded behind his back, looking entirely content to wait you out. The longer you refused, the more entertained he'd become, as though he'd decided the situation had transformed into a battle of patience and he had every intention of winning.
After a while, he might reach out and gently catch your hand before you could turn away again, his thumb brushing once over your knuckles as he looked at you. "You were rather enthusiastic about it yesterday. What has changed?" When you finally laughed and told him you loved him, the satisfaction on his face would be subtle but unmistakable.
His expression would soften into the smallest smile, and he'd give your hand a quiet squeeze before finally allowing you to go. "There. I knew you hadn't suddenly forgotten." You'd probably tease him afterward, pointing out that he'd clearly been waiting for you to say it and had been far more bothered by the missing words than he wanted to admit.
Dottore would simply give you an amused look, completely unwilling to surrender the point. "I merely dislike inconsistencies." He'd pause at the doorway, gaze lingering on you for another moment before adding with deliberate casualness, "Particularly when they concern me." Then he'd finally step aside and let you leave, wearing that faintly satisfied smile that made it painfully obvious he'd gotten exactly what he'd wanted.
── ( 𝒑. ) Pantalone would notice the missing words almost immediately, but he'd handle it with the kind of composed amusement that made it difficult to tell whether he'd been genuinely caught off guard at all.
You'd give him your usual goodbye, perhaps straightening your clothes and gathering whatever you needed before turning toward the door, only for him to pause behind you with a quiet, thoughtful hum.
"Hmm." He'd let the silence linger just long enough for you to wonder whether he'd actually noticed before adding, "That's an unusually incomplete farewell."
You'd glance back at him with an innocent expression and pretend not to understand, and his lips would curl into a knowing smile. "Don't worry. I'll give you another opportunity."
Rather than immediately stopping you, he'd allow you to continue toward the door, watching you with that calm, entertained expression as though he'd already decided exactly how this little game would end.
You'd make it several steps before his voice followed you again, smooth and unhurried. "You seem to be forgetting something rather important." Still refusing to give in, you'd probably insist that you hadn't forgotten anything at all, prompting him to give a quiet laugh.
"Is that so?" He'd let you continue pretending for another moment, clearly enjoying how determined you were to maintain the act. Then, he'd approach you himself, not with any urgency but with the effortless confidence he carried in nearly everything he did.
Rather than confronting you directly, he'd casually straighten the collar of your clothing, adjust your coat, or smooth some small wrinkle from your sleeve as though his only concern were making sure you were properly prepared to leave.
His fingers would linger for just a moment before he looked at you with an amused glint. "You really are going to make me ask, aren't you?" The entire exchange would feel less like an argument and more like a private game between the two of you, with Pantalone perfectly content to let you keep teasing him until you finally gave yourself away.
Once you finally admitted that you were deliberately withholding the words just to tease him, Pantalone's expression would soften into a quiet, almost victorious smile. "Ah, so that's what you've been doing." Rather than insisting that you say it immediately, he'd simply shake his head and give you a look that said he'd already forgiven you.
He'd take your things from you, perhaps fixing the strap of your bag or making sure you'd remembered everything before you left, all while occasionally glancing back at you with unmistakable amusement. "You know, for someone in such a hurry to leave, you've certainly managed to delay yourself."
The teasing would continue naturally until the two of you were standing at the doorway, and only then would he lean against the frame and look at you expectantly. He wouldn't ask you to repeat the words because he needed reassurance, he'd simply enjoy watching you finally break character and admit defeat.
The moment you told him you loved him, his smile would widen, and he'd give a small, satisfied nod as though you'd finally reached the obvious conclusion of the game. "There you are." He'd brush a single strand of your hair behind your ear before pressing a brief kiss to your forehead, then step aside to let you pass.
"Now go. Before you decide to torment me again." As you walked away, he'd probably call after you with one final remark, his voice carrying that effortless amusement. "And for the record, you weren't nearly as convincing as you thought you were."
── ( 𝒏. ) Neuvilette would initially assume you had simply forgotten, because the change in your usual farewell would be so unexpected that he wouldn't immediately suspect you were deliberately teasing him.
You'd give him your customary goodbye, perhaps already turning toward the door and gathering your things, and he'd respond with the same calm warmth he always did. Only after a brief pause would he realize that something was missing.
His gaze would follow you for a moment, his expression becoming subtly thoughtful as he replayed the exchange in his mind. "You have forgotten something." You'd stop and look back at him, genuinely innocent as you asked what you could possibly have forgotten, and he'd give you a slightly puzzled look before gently reminding you of the words you normally exchanged before you left.
"You usually say it back." There would be no accusation in his voice, only quiet certainty. When you continued pretending that you had no idea what he meant, he'd study your expression a little longer, eventually noticing the faint amusement you were trying to hide. That would be when understanding finally dawned on him.
His expression would soften, and the smallest smile would appear. "I see. So that was intentional." Rather than becoming embarrassed or trying to force the words from you, he'd simply accept the situation with remarkable patience.
He'd let you continue toward the door, perhaps watching you gather your things with an almost amused fondness, before calmly adding, "If you are attempting to tease me, I must admit that it has been rather effective." You'd probably laugh and insist that you hadn't done anything, only for him to raise an eyebrow slightly.
"Of course." The quiet skepticism in his voice would make it obvious that he knew perfectly well what you were doing. Even so, he wouldn't make a fuss. He'd simply remain nearby, allowing the playful silence to stretch while making no attempt to hide the fact that he was waiting for you to finish the little game you'd started.
When you were genuinely about to leave, Neuvillette would call your name once more. There would be something almost gently expectant in his voice now, though he still wouldn't sound demanding. "Before you go." He'd approach you with his usual composed grace, perhaps reaching for your hand and holding it between both of his for a moment.
His thumb would rest lightly against your knuckles while he looked at you with that patient expression, as though he were perfectly willing to stand there for as long as necessary.
The teasing would probably become difficult to maintain once you saw how quietly amused he was by the entire situation, and eventually you'd give in and tell him that you loved him. The faintest smile would immediately appear on his face, subtle but unmistakably genuine.
"Thank you. That is what I was waiting to hear." He'd give your hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it, perhaps leaning forward to press a brief kiss to your forehead before finally allowing you to leave.
Once you admitted that you'd only been teasing him, he'd give you a quietly amused look, the sort that carried far more affection than reproach. "Then I shall remember this the next time you are in a hurry to leave." There'd be no actual threat behind the words, only a rare hint of playful teasing from someone who was usually so formal.
── ( 𝐟. ) Flins would notice the missing words quickly, but his reaction would be much quieter and more understated than someone who would immediately call you back or make a dramatic fuss about it.
You'd give him your usual goodbye, already turning toward the door and gathering your things, and he'd remain still for a moment after you finished speaking, his eyes following you with a faintly puzzled expression. Something about the farewell would feel incomplete, and he'd quietly replay it in his head before finally looking at you.
"You're not saying it today?" You'd pause and turn around with an innocent expression, asking what he meant, and he'd give you a long, almost unreadable look. At first, he'd genuinely seem unsure whether you'd forgotten or simply changed your mind, but the faint amusement in your expression would eventually give you away.
His eyes would narrow just slightly before a small, knowing smile appeared. "So that's how it is." He'd understand immediately that you were deliberately withholding the words just to see what he'd do. Rather than rushing after you, he'd remain where he was for another moment, leaning casually against the nearest wall or piece of furniture while watching you prepare to leave.
"You know exactly what you're doing." His voice would remain calm, though there'd be a subtle teasing edge to it now. You'd probably continue pretending not to understand, and he'd simply shake his head with a quiet sigh, almost amused by how committed you were to the joke.
He'd let you take another few steps toward the door, watching with patient attention before eventually pushing himself away from the wall and following at an unhurried pace.
By the time you reached the doorway, he'd gently catch your hand, stopping you without force. "Wait." His fingers would settle comfortably around yours, and he'd look at you with that same restrained little smile. He wouldn't even have to say what he wanted anymore; the silence between you would make it obvious.
He'd hold your hand for a moment, his thumb moving once across your knuckles while he waited for you to finally break character. The longer you tried to maintain your innocent expression, the more amused he'd become, though he wouldn't tease you excessively about it.
Eventually, you'd laugh and admit that you were only messing with him, and Flins would give a quiet exhale that sounded almost like relief mixed with amusement. "I thought so." He'd look down at your joined hands for a moment before meeting your eyes again.
"You seem to really enjoy making things difficult for me." Even then, he wouldn't pressure you to say the words. He'd simply stay there, still holding your hand, until you finally told him that you loved him. The corners of his mouth would lift into a small, genuine smile.
"There it is." His grip would tighten briefly around your hand before he finally let you go, perhaps giving your fingers one last affectionate squeeze. He'd step aside to let you leave, but there'd be a quiet warmth lingering in his expression that made it obvious he'd enjoyed the entire exchange despite himself.
Just before you walked through the doorway, he'd add one last understated remark, his tone carrying the faintest hint of playful reproach. "Don't make a habit of leaving things unfinished." Then he'd watch you go, returning to whatever he'd been doing with the same composed demeanor as before, except for the small smile that would probably remain on his face for a while afterward.
── ( 𝐯. ) Venti would notice immediately and turn the whole thing into an exaggerated tragedy, because there was absolutely no chance he'd let such an obvious opportunity for theatrics pass him by.
You'd give him your usual goodbye, already halfway through the doorway, but without returning his familiar "I love you more," and he'd suddenly go completely still behind you. His eyes would widen as though you'd just delivered the most devastating news imaginable, one hand slowly rising to his chest.
"Oh? That's it?" He'd stare after you in exaggerated disbelief, looking genuinely wounded for precisely long enough to make you wonder whether he'd actually fallen for it.
"My beloved has abandoned me without even saying those three little words?" You'd probably turn around laughing, insisting that you hadn't done anything, and Venti would immediately follow you with an increasingly dramatic string of complaints.
"How cruel! How could you do this to poor little old me?" He'd trail after you as though he'd been personally betrayed, sighing dramatically and shaking his head while claiming that he'd clearly been forgotten after all this time.
The more you tried to suppress your laughter, the more ridiculous he'd become, perhaps clutching at his chest and announcing that he might never recover from such heartbreak.
When you finally tried to escape through the doorway again, he'd catch your hand and give you a playful twirl back toward him, grinning the moment you stumbled into him.
"Ah-ah, not so fast." He'd hold onto your hand for another moment, looking at you with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "You can't simply leave me with an unfinished farewell. That's terribly unfair!"
The moment you finally admitted that you were teasing him, Venti's entire wounded expression would vanish as though someone had flipped a switch, replaced by a delighted grin. "Ah, so that's what this is!" He'd laugh, shaking his head as though he'd just discovered the trick you'd been playing from the beginning.
Rather than being offended, he'd seem almost impressed that you'd managed to catch him off guard, though he'd immediately decide that meant you owed him compensation for the emotional devastation he'd supposedly endured.
"Then I'm afraid you'll have to make it up to me." He'd lean closer with a playful smile, looking up at you expectantly. You'd probably laugh and tell him that he was being ridiculous, only for him to insist that his suffering had been very real and very tragic.
"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to survive such heartbreak?" He'd sigh dramatically before breaking into another laugh. Eventually, you'd give in and finally tell him you loved him, and the satisfaction on his face would be immediate.
"There it is! My three favorite words from my favorite person!" He'd brighten as though he'd just won some grand victory, squeezing your hand before pulling you into a quick, warm hug. "Much better. Now I can let you go without spending the next hour composing a sad ballad about your betrayal."
He'd probably make a show of wiping away an imaginary tear before finally releasing you, only to call after you once more as you started walking away. "And don't think I didn't notice what you did!"
── ( 𝒍. ) Lyney would notice instantly and would never let you get away with deliberately skipping the part of your usual farewell he liked most. You'd say goodbye and start walking away without returning his familiar declaration, and he'd freeze dramatically behind you as though he'd just witnessed some terrible betrayal.
"Oh?" He'd place a hand over his heart, staring after you with exaggerated disbelief. "Was that really all you had to say before leaving me?" You'd probably turn around with an innocent expression and ask what he meant, only for him to follow you with that dramatically wounded look, his voice becoming increasingly theatrical as he insisted that something was clearly missing.
"I must have misunderstood. I could've sworn you normally say something very important right about now." He'd give you a suspicious little glance, already knowing perfectly well that you were teasing him, but he'd play along anyway.
He might even sigh dramatically and shake his head as though trying to accept his tragic fate. "Perhaps I've simply become forgettable. How unfortunate."
The more you tried to hide your laughter, the more exaggerated he'd become, following you toward the doorway while continuing his ridiculous complaints.
Eventually, he'd step neatly in front of the door before you could leave, wearing that playful smile that made it obvious he was having far too much fun with the situation. "Surely you wouldn't abandon your poor boyfriend without a proper farewell?"
He'd tilt his head, watching you expectantly, and when you continued refusing to give in, he'd let out an exaggerated sigh. "Very well. I'll simply wait." He'd cross his arms and stand there with remarkable patience, perfectly willing to turn your little joke into an entire game of who could hold out longer.
The moment you finally laughed and admitted that you were only teasing him, Lyney's wounded expression would immediately disappear, replaced by a bright, satisfied grin. He'd shake his head fondly, looking at you as though he'd just caught you red-handed. "You really do enjoy tormenting me, don't you?"
He'd step closer, but rather than immediately demanding the missing words, he'd simply look at you with an amused, expectant expression, giving you every opportunity to finally say them yourself.
You'd eventually give in and tell him you loved him, and his entire demeanor would brighten at once, the playful triumph in his smile making it obvious how much he'd been waiting for that little part of your routine.
"See, that wasn't so hard now was it?" He'd say it softly this time, without the theatrics, before leaning down to press a brief kiss to your forehead. Then he'd step aside with an exaggerated little bow, gesturing toward the door as though granting you permission to leave.
"Now you may go. I suppose I'll allow it." He'd probably hold the door open for you with a grin, only to add one final teasing remark as you passed. "Though next time, my dear, try not to forget the most important part."
── ( 𝒍. ) Lohen would notice the missing words almost immediately, but unlike someone who would simply tease you about it, he'd become visibly confused first.
You'd give him your usual goodbye, perhaps smiling as you gathered your things and turned toward the door, and he'd remain standing there for a second as though his brain had encountered some completely unexpected error in a routine he'd already memorized.
His eyebrows would knit together, his head tilting slightly as he watched you reach for the handle. "Wait, you forgot something." You'd innocently turn around and ask what, and he'd stare at you for another second before his expression slowly changed as realization finally dawned on him.
"You're doing that on purpose, aren't you?" He'd let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he pointed at you with an incredulous smile.
"No, because you definitely know what I'm talking about. We've literally done this the same way every time. You say you're leaving, I tell you I love you, you tell me you love me more, and then you go." He'd start rambling on, "That's the routine. That's how this works."
He'd probably pause, glance toward the door, then back at you as though genuinely trying to understand why you had suddenly decided to disrupt something so established. "So why are you changing the rules now? Because if there's a new rule where you're allowed to just walk away without saying it back, I feel like somebody should've told me."
You'd probably be struggling not to laugh by then, which would only make him more suspicious. "Oh, you're laughing. Okay, so you are doing this on purpose." He'd follow you when you turned toward the door again, continuing to talk almost entirely because he couldn't stand leaving the situation unresolved.
He'd eventually catch your hand before you could leave, his fingers closing around yours as he gave you a mildly exasperated look. Once he realized you were only teasing him, Lohen would visibly relax, letting out a breath that sounded suspiciously like he'd been holding it.
The moment you finally laughed and told him you loved him, his expression would immediately soften into a relieved smile. "See? Was that so hard?" He'd give your hand a little squeeze before pulling you into a quick hug, though he'd probably keep talking even while doing it.
"Alright, go. Before you decide to 'traumatize' me like that again." He'd open the door for you, still grinning, only to call after you once you'd started walking away. "And I love you more, by the way. That's still part of the routine!"
( Lohen tries very hard to be a holy man of grace, but his unhinged protective instincts—and a certain lovely florist—are making a complete mockery of his vows. )
cw: gothic dark romance au, soft yandere/obsessive themes, hyper-vigilance & territorial instincts, violent monster death (blood/gore), sudden dagger usage, heavy religious imagery & forbidden yearning, mild blood wiping, and lohen being completely unhinged under his priest robes | 2.2k | gender neutral reader.
The morning mist in Mondstadt didn’t burn away so much as it bled into the gray stone.
Behind the cathedral, where the shadows lay thickest and the dirt smelled turned and damp, your flower shop pressed its small, timber-framed spine directly against the iron wrought gates of the cemetery. It was a strange place to cultivate life—built right over the quiet bones of old Mondstadt—but flowers grew unnaturally lush in that soil. Calla lilies pale as marble, dark windwheel asters that drank the fog, and night-blooming jasmine that only opened when the sun drowned in the west.
And every morning at dawn, you carried the cathedral’s altar arrangements up the grand stone steps, your hands cold, your apron dusted with damp earth.
You always paused at the heavy oak doors of the nave. Not to pray—not strictly, anyway—but because the morning air inside the cathedral was always thick with incense, dried wax, and the quiet, unsettling presence of Father Lohen.
“If you stare any longer, the archon might think you’re worshiping the priest instead of the statue.”
The voice didn’t come from behind you. It drifted from the shadowed depth of the wooden confessional booth tucked beside the grand pillar—dark, lacquered oak carved with weeping angels.
You stopped, the heavy wicker basket of fresh cecilias resting against your hip. Through the dark, latticed wooden screen of the booth, you couldn’t see his face clearly. Only the faint, pale gleam of his light green hair, and two dull red eyes glowing softly in the gloom like dying embers. He had heard your footsteps before you had even cleared the outer threshold. He always did.
“I was checking if the altar needed fresh water, Father,” you lied softly, your chest tightening with a familiar, forbidden pulse of warmth. A terrible, quiet yearning had taken root in you over the past few months—a desire to draw close to a man who looked like an angel when the stained glass caught his profile, but moved with the terrifying, erratic grace of something caught in a trap. “Though I suppose the church’s favorite penitent is already hard at work.”
A low, raspy huff of air escaped the confessional—a laugh that barely left his throat.
“Penitent?” The wooden lattice creaked as Lohen shifted inside the cramped box. Through the carved slots, you caught the sudden, lightning-fast flash of his pale fingers twirling a silver rosary—or perhaps a silver blade, he hid both in those wide black sleeves, and you could never quite tell which was which. “Hardly. I’m just trying to convince the heavens that my heart rate is a sign of holy fervor, and not... impatience.”
“Impatience for what?” you asked, taking a bold step closer to the dark oak booth. The damp scent of soil on your hands mingled with the bitter frankincense clinging to his robes.
Inside the darkness, Lohen’s breath hitched.
To anyone else, Father Lohen was the cathedral’s most rigorous night-vigilant: a soft-spoken, severely disciplined priest who walked the cemetery grounds while the rest of Mondstadt slept. But you had noticed the subtle, uncanny details no one else paid attention to. You had seen the way his ears twitched at the faintest snap of a twig a hundred paces away. You had seen how his dull red eyes tracked the pulse fluttering in a person’s throat rather than their lips when they spoke. An astrologist once told you, his constellation was the Lepus Miles—a creature of pure, wired, hyper-vigilant instinct. He desperately wanted to be a vessel of quiet, divine grace, praying until his knees bruised against the cold granite floor. But beneath those heavy woolen cassocks, his body vibrated with a twitchy, predatory electricity that no prayer could cleanse.
And right now, locked inside that dark wooden box, every single one of his hyper-attuned senses was locked squarely onto you. He could hear the slight, uneven rhythm of your heartbeat. He could smell the damp earth clinging to your apron. He could hear the faint, soft rustle of your clothes as you leaned a fraction closer to the screen.
A pale, slender hand emerged from the dark interior of the confessional, gripping the carved edge of the wooden lattice. His knuckles were bone-white, his fingers trembling slightly with a terrifying effort at self-restraint.
“For you to finish your rounds,” Lohen whispered. His voice dropped into something raw, raspy, and dangerously intimate—a sound that sent a shiver straight down your spine. “The morning light is getting too bright in here. And my vigil doesn’t truly begin... until you walk back down to the graves.”
.
The morning gave way to evening like a slow, bleeding wound. By the time night settled over Mondstadt, the city had shuttered its windows against the chill coming off the lake.
Up on the cathedral bluff, the stone walls stood black against a moonless sky, swallowed whole by a mist so thick it tasted of damp slate and ancient earth. Down in your shop, tucked against the cemetery gates, the world was reduced to the soft, golden halo of a single oil lamp.
You were alone, surrounded by the heavy, suffocating scent of night-blooming jasmine and crushed stems. Your hands were stained dark with soil, your shoulders aching from hours of potting, but your mind couldn’t drift away from the cathedral. From him. Every time you closed your eyes, you felt the ghostly weight of his attention, the way his dull red eyes had burned through the dark lattice of the confessional, tracking your pulse as if it were a siren song.
You yearned for it in a way that terrified you. It was sacrilege, pure and simple, to crave the undivided, terrifying focus of a holy man. But Father Lohen was no ordinary priest. He was a wire pulled so taut it hummed, a creature born under the Hare— electric blood in his veins with trembling prayers.
A soft, wet thud echoed from the graveyard behind the shop.
You paused, a hand poised over a pot of dark windwheel asters. The night mist pressed heavy against the glass panes of the greenhouse window, obscuring the iron wrought fence. Just the fog, you told yourself, though your heart gave a sudden, eager flutter. Or him.
Lohen kept the night vigil. You knew he walked the cemetery grounds while the city slept, his black woolen cassock dragging over wet gravestones. More than once, you had caught the pale gleam of his light green hair moving through the fog outside your window—watching you, guarding you, starving for you.
The back door to the shop—the one leading directly into the misty headstones—creaked open. A draft of freezing air swept in, killing the flame of the oil lamp. Shadows rushed to fill the room, plunging the shop into a suffocating, indigo dark. You didn’t flinch. Instead, a breath caught in your throat, sweet and expectant. The smell of cold earth and ozone flooded the space.
“Lohen?” you murmured into the dark, turning around slowly. You reached out a hand, half-expecting your fingers to brush against the heavy, coarse wool of his priest’s robes. “You’re late tonight. I thought... I thought you had forgotten to check the gate.”
Behind you, a long, warped shadow crept across the floorboards. It rose tall, blocking out the faint moonlight filtering through the fogged glass. But the shadow didn't move with the fluid, unnerving grace of Father Lohen. It was hunched, heavy. The air suddenly filled with a foul, metallic stench—not incense, not damp flowers, but the rotting, wild breath of something that had crept down from the howling crags of Starsnatch Cliff.
A low, guttural growl vibrated through the floorboards. Your breath hitched, the blood draining from your face as realization struck like a icy blade. Not Lohen.
You spun around, your heel catching the edge of a wooden potting table. A towering silhouette loomed over you, a pair of glowing, feral eyes burning through the gloom. A crude, spiked club was drawn back, ready to shatter the quiet night.
You opened your mouth to scream—
The sound was not human. It was a violent, deafening tear in the air—a flash of pure, blinding silver that cut through the darkness before your brain could even process the motion. A sickening thwack echoed through the narrow shop. Hot, thick blood splattered violently across your face, painting your cheek and apron in a blinding burst of crimson.
The heavy beast didn't even have time to roar. Its body stiffened, a silver dagger buried to the hilt directly through the center of its throat, pinning it to the doorframe with terrifying, inhuman force. It collapsed sideways like a felled tree, crashing onto the stone floor in a heap of dead weight. Silence descended, heavy and suffocating.
In the open doorway, framed by the swirling white mist of the graveyard, a figure stood motionless.
Lohen’s breath came in fast, shallow, jagged rasps—a hare’s breath after a fatal leap. His light green hair was wild, plastered to his forehead by the fog and sweat. His white gloves were soaked in dark, glistening blood, and his dull red eyes were glowing in the dark, wide and unblinking, locked squarely onto the red spray dripping down your cheek.
For three agonizing heartbeats, Father Lohen didn't move. His shoulders rose and fell in rapid, shallow jerks, his breath whistling through his teeth like wind through a cracked pane. The silver dagger he had thrown was still vibrating faintly where it pinned the hilichurl’s throat to the timber.
Then, his dull red eyes slowly adjusted to the dark—and caught the crimson spray glistening on your skin. A sharp, violent twitch ran through his jaw. “Fascinating,” Lohen rasped into the dead silence. His voice was far too calm, vibrating with that terrifying, wired static. “I explicitly recall asking the Knights to clear the northern perimeter. I suppose reading comprehension isn’t a requirement for the Favonius payroll.”
He stepped over the carcass, his heavy black cassock rustling against the floorboards. He didn’t check the monster to see if it was dead. He knew it was dead. His entire focus snapped onto you with the terrifying, undivided heat of a spotlight. “You’re bleeding,” he said, stepping directly into your space.
“It’s... it's not mine,” you managed to choke out, your voice trembling as you backed up until your spine hit the wooden potting table. “Lohen, it’s—”
“I know it isn’t yours.”
He reached out. His hand was trembling—not with fear, but with the frantic, electric shock of his own adrenaline attempting to drain out of his system. With alarming speed, his gloved thumb pressed against your cheek, his touch surprisingly soft despite the terrifying intensity in his eyes. He dragged his thumb across your skin, wiping the blood away with a slow, meticulous stroke.
His eyes locked onto yours, unblinking. “If it were yours,” he whispered, his thumb lingering against your cheekbone, “I would currently be forced to commit a vast number of sins that no amount of hail marys could fix.”
He caught himself a second later. The realization of what he’d just said—and how close he was standing—hit his brain like a bucket of ice water. Lohen’s jaw tightened. He snapped his hand back into his wide black sleeve as if your skin had burned him, taking a rigid step backward. A flash of furious self-annoyance crossed his features, his pale green hair tossing as he rubbed the back of his neck with a harsh, dry exhale.
“Right. Disregard that,” he muttered, turning his head to glare bitterly at the dead hilichurl on your floor. “Must be the fog. Getting into my head. Ignore me.”
A breathless, incredulous laugh escaped you. You were shaking, your pulse hammering against your ribs, but looking at him standing there—a holy priest in blood-stained gloves, aggressively refusing to acknowledge his own dramatic entry—the sheer absurdity of him cut right through the terror.
“Ignore you?” you echoed, gesturing wildly at the corpse. “Lohen, you just threw a dagger through a monster’s neck from thirty paces away!”
“It was twenty paces,” Lohen corrected automatically, his tone utterly flat. “And the doorframe will require fresh lacquer. A terrible waste of church property, really.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Perhaps,” he replied, though his hands were buried deep inside his sleeves, his fingers curling tightly into his palms to stop the twitching. He glanced sideways at you, his red eyes softening just a fraction, catching the way your shoulders were still trembling. He let out a low, weary huff—a sound that was so undeniably him.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice dropping into that raspy, reluctant softness he only ever used with you. “You’re shaking. I bring a weapon into a house of God, ruin your floorboards, splatter you in filth, and you’re still looking at me like I’m something worth saving.”
“Maybe I am,” you whispered, taking a cautious step toward him.
Lohen froze. His ears twitched under his hair, his posture locking up like a hare sensing a trap. He looked at you—really looked at you—with a mixture of dark, helpless yearning and utter, sarcastic disbelief. “Then you’re vastly more unhinged than I am, sweet florist,” he hummed dryly, a faint, razor-thin smirk finally tugging at the corner of his lips.
He reached into his sleeve, pulling out a clean handkerchief, and tossed it to you with practiced ease. “Clean your face. Before I decide that leaving you unsupervised down here is a threat to my sanity.”
You took the cloth and wiped your cheek in silence, both of you staring at the blood on the floorboards, perfectly aware that a holy vow had just fractured—and neither of you had any intention of fixing it.
read more here | the thoughts that inspired this fic
Happy Birthday! : hcs for what genshin men are like on your bday!
characters: xiao, illuga, lohen, kinich
Xiao is a little lost when it comes to things like birthday celebrations
He tries his very best, though!
He ends up spending most of the morning clearing out as many monster encampments as possible
most especially the ones around paths that he knows you often walk
he still has a duty to fulfill to Liyue, after all
but he also... really wants to spend as much time as possible with you on the day of your birth
so he works as quickly and efficiently as possible
Ends up (somewhat begrudgingly) asking Verr Goldet what mortals usually do on birthdays as soon as he finishes patrolling all of his usual areas
even goes as far as teleporting down to the harbor and asking Zhongli as well, just to make sure he's doing things correctly
Hunts down whatever restaurant you mentioned being your favorite with the same efficiency he takes out enemies with, even though he dislikes being caught directly in the bustle of the harbor
probably scares the poor workers half to death while he orders
goes straight to your home as soon as he has all your favorite foods that he's seen you bring around the inn, and invites you out to eat with him
"If you have no other plans... I would like to spend some time with you today."
It's probably a little off-putting for your neighbors to see the vigilant yaksha standing on your doorstep, and you remind him that he totally could have just teleported straight into your house, but he insists it wouldn't have been proper to enter your home in such a way
his ears go a little bit red at the idea
Ends up taking you up to Mt. Tianheng to watch the ships drift in and out of the harbor while you happily eat
Once you finish, he brings you around to see some of his favorite sights around Liyue that the average person would never get to admire (or at least, never without worrying for their safety)
He takes you up to the peaks of mountains overlooking Qingce village, wades through the waters with you at Yaoguang shoal to find you a pretty shell, even takes you to stroll through the ruins at Lingju pass (which is mysteriously void of any treasure hoarders or monsters for once)
Ends the night by taking you up to the very top of Wangshu inn to watch the sunset and then stargaze when the sky goes dark
Happily listens to you ramble on about your day and the weather and the stars and whatever else pops into your mind until you slowly drift off leaning on his shoulder
Picks you up as gently as possible and teleports you back to your home, where he carefully tucks you in
Ends up laying beside you and holding your hand throughout most of the night, watching the way your lashes flutter while you dream
He used to think that the mortal tradition of celebrating birthdays every year was redundant, but now... he can't help but feel a certain understanding when he thinks about how happy he is that you were born
He's gone when you wake the next morning, but there's a warmth left in your sheets and an intricately made protective amulet pressed neatly into the palm of your hand
Illuga is probably more excited to celebrate your birthday than you are
He works like CRAZY in the days leading up to it so that he can spend the day without working guilt-free
(and also... his squadmates literally would force him to go home if they saw him try to work instead of spending time with you)
For once, you get to wake up to him still curled up next to you in bed instead of simply getting a note on your bedside table
He insists that you stay in bed a little longer (not that you can complain), burying his face into your neck and running his hands up and down your back happily so you're both able to catch up on as much sleep as you could possibly need
The two of you stay cozy and warm under the blankets until the sun is already well into the sky, only getting up when Illuga decides that you've gone without food long enough and need to eat
Insists on making breakfast himself, something warm and light and comforting that has you feeling ready for the day
After that, the two of you start the long trek down to Nasha Town from Piramida
It takes a while to get there, but its a rare treat to be able to shop around and visit so many different places while living all the way over in Piramida
INSISTS on paying for every little snack that catches your eye, until you've gotten to try nearly every bite of food that Nasha Town has to offer
You even got to share a cute little sugar sculpture that was shaped like a nightingale, and even went back to get a second one in the same shape for Aedon to try
Takes you to a little custom jewelry shop to pick up an order, where he unboxes a beautiful gemstone earring in your favorite color that matches his own
He takes special care when he helps you put it on, either sliding it in place or clipping it on so gently it feels a little like he's handling porcelain
"It's not too heavy, is it? Here, let me help you adjust it. I want to make sure it's comfortable!"
Perhaps it soothes some repressed possessive part of him, but he seems to smile even more tenderly than usual whenever he turns to look at you and sees you matching with him so obviously
By the time you finally get back on the boat for Piramida, he's got the dreamiest little grin on his face
As soon as you make it back home, he hurries off to run you a warm bath with some nice bath salts he got back in town, then ushers you into it and encourages you to take as much time as you'd like
By the time you get out, he's nearly finished whipping up a mini-feast (and you realize he most definitely stayed up late last night to prepare some of it in advance before he curled up next to you in bed)
Dinner, of course, consists of as many of your favorites as he could manage to make without ending up with a frankly overwhelming amount of food
though... the amount he cooked DOES border on too much.
You being able to relax and eat as much as you could ever want is very important to him!! especially on a day that is literally meant for letting your hair down and relaxing!!!!
The little cake he made is just about finished as soon as you wrap up dinner, complete with some neatly cut up fresh fruits on the side
He wanted to let the cake cool so he could decorate it, but the two of you probably end up just eating it warm out of the oven, giggling in the dim light of the kitchen while the icing melts on top
By the time you two finally crash into bed, you're warm down to your very bones from the food and affection
Doesn't let you fall asleep without one more kiss that tastes like cake and fruits, and a reminder of how happy he is that you're in his life
Lohen does not live with you
Yet somehow, the first thing you're greeted with upon waking is your boyfriend's iron-clad grip around your waist
The second he notices you're awake, he rolls over on top of you with a grin and sparkling eyes
A little obsessed with being the first person to tell you happy birthday, hence the reason he casually let himself into your home and curled up next to you like he belonged there
Doesn't let you lay in bed for too much longer once he knows you're awake, dragging you up and stepping out for just a moment while you get ready for the day
When you finally leave your room, he takes you straight out for a breakfast at Good Hunter's
Surprisingly, he doesn't immediately take you out to wipe out monster camps for fun
Instead, he allows you to drag him around without complaint, greeting your friends around the city
Takes you to a few different stores to pick up cake ingredients, and insists on carrying every bag that you end up with (though, he does that on a normal day too)
When you finally return home after a long day out on the town, he immediately lets himself into your home like he belongs there and opens up the ingredients to start on your cake
suggests you bake it together to speed things up, which probably is not the best option but sounds fun anyway
your poor kitchen...
you two ended up having a flour fight halfway through and end up laughing on the floor absolutely covered in it
he looks at you like a wet dog when you tell him he can't taste test the raw batter (he does it anyway)
when it finally makes it out of the oven, he smears icing on his lips or on your own so he can lean in for kisses over and over again
it's messy but its all fun and domestic and loving
you end up with a cute little cake that's lopsided on one side and covered in half-melted frosting that Lohen used his vision to cool back into place
it doesn't look the prettiest, but it's very tasty and each of his kisses taste like cake afterwards
eventually, he leads you right back towards the dining area
You're not sure when he placed it there during all the chaos, but sitting on your table is a beautiful custom blue-bladed knife
It's elegant and probably sharp enough to cut rocks, and the handle feels almost perfectly molded to your hand when you pick it up
While you occupy yourself with admiring your gift, Lohen kneels down and carefully wraps a perfectly fitted leather sheath around your thigh
"Made it myself. How'd I get the perfect size? Eh, I just eyeballed it, don't you worry your pretty little head."
while fastening it to you, he ends up smearing flour all over your leg again
the two of you stumble off to take a bath, giggly and happy all the while until the day ends exactly how it started
curled up in bed with Lohen holding onto you for dear life, despite the fact that he most certainly does not live with you
maybe you should just let him move in at this point
Kinich is fairly casual when it comes to your birthday
It's important, of course! But he doesn't want to throw some crazy party when the day should be spent simply being appreciated by those who love you instead of on some surface-level party
Goes off with Ajaw in the morning under the guise of completing an urgent commission, leaving you with a light breakfast that he whipped up himself (with help from Ajaw, in the form of some messily chopped fruits accompanying your meal)
You find, after getting ready for the day, that he's tidied up the home and left a bouquet of your favorite flowers resting on the dinner table
You put them in a vase and start to head out for the day when you're immediately greeted by a courier
The courier gives you a letter before wishing you a happy birthday and scurrying off
The letter is signed by Kinich, but other than that it includes nothing but a tiny sketched out map
When you follow the map, you're led to a quiet little clearing right outside Ameyalco waters where a basket of fresh quenepa berries and another letter with a map awaits you
Your day is filled with little stops like this, Kinich's little game leading you to the homes of your friends and family where you're given gifts and well-wishes from all those who love you dearly
Finally, you're led to the beach that runs alongside Teticpac peak, where you find Kinich himself awaiting you
He sits atop a cute little picnic blanket, some of your favorite foods and desserts spread out around him
Turns out, he had used the little scavenger hunt to give himself time to collect all the food and clear the area of any monsters that would ruin your special day
"There's no need to pay me back. It's a gift— All you need to do is enjoy yourself."
Once you finish eating, he calls Ajaw back (from wherever he had scurried off to— probably anywhere he could go to escape your 'mushy romantic date')
In his full-sized form, you're able to climb up on top of Ajaw's back for a leisurely glide around Natlan, the cool air tickling your face as you soar through the sky under the setting sun
Kinich's arm stays firm around you the whole time— it never hurts to be careful, after all
When you reach the end of your route, Ajaw deposits the two of you right outside your home and shrinks back down to size, and is quickly placated by the little basket of quenepa berries you had been gifted earlier
As your final gift, Kinich carefully fastens a beautifully carved necklace around your throat— daintier, but still fairly reminiscent of his own in terms of colors and shape
It's a simple celebration with him, but creative and fun all at the same time
He waits until you fall asleep to follow suit, making sure that Ajaw is mollified with plenty of berries and promises of further payment so that you can sleep soundly all night long
PREMISE . . . In which they remain completely oblivious to the feelings they've already developed for you, even as their actions grow increasingly affectionate, attentive, and unmistakably devoted, while everyone around them can see exactly what's happening long before they finally realize that they've fallen for you.
ꫂ᭪݁ STARRING . . . lohen, dottore, tartaglia, wanderer, varka, kinich
⚠︎ WARNING . . . › sfw!!, word count : 700-900 each character, brief mention of blood, oblivious pining, mild protective/possessive behavior, physical affection, teasing, fluff!
note . I LOVED WRITING FOR WANDERER SO MUCHHH argh my baby ;; and I was actually contemplating whether to write for dottore haha I hope he's not so ooc,,
── ( 𝒍. ) lohen wouldn't intially realize he was falling in love with you because he simply wouldn't have the framework for recognizing it. He understands caring for people, protecting them, helping them, and enjoying someone's company, but the idea of 'love' as something separate from all of that isn't something he's ever spent much time examining.
His behavior toward you would therefore seem completely natural to him. He'd find himself looking for you whenever he entered a room without consciously deciding to, his eyes automatically sweeping across the people there until they found you.
The change in him would be subtle but unmistakable to anyone who knew him well. Lohen could walk into a room with his usual mildly distant expression, not particularly unhappy or irritated, simply looking as though his thoughts were somewhere else, and then he'd spot you.
His eyes would immediately brighten, his entire expression warming into a genuine smile before he'd even realize he'd done it, and he'd naturally make his way toward you. He might interrupt whatever conversation he'd been having just to greet you, or wander over after finishing his current task and ask whether you wanted to train together.
Training would become one of his favorite ways of spending time with you, he'd invite you to spar, teach you a new technique, help correct your stance, or ask you to watch while he practiced. Sometimes he'd deliberately challenge you just to see how much you'd improved, and other times he'd patiently demonstrate the same movement over and over until you finally understood it.
If you were already sitting nearby, he'd simply gravitate toward you between exercises, talking about whatever happened to cross his mind. None of this would strike him as unusual. When someone remarked that he seemed particularly happy whenever you were around, he'd genuinely look confused, because from his perspective he was simply enjoying your company.
He wouldn't understand that the way his expression changed at the sight of you, the way he instinctively searched for you, and the way he kept choosing your company whenever he had free time were signs of something much deeper.
Varka would be the one to finally put the pieces together for him. He'd eventually notice the pattern that Lohen himself remained completely oblivious to, the way his expression transformed whenever you appeared, how often he found reasons to train with you, and how naturally he gravitated toward you whenever you were nearby.
Eventually, after seeing Lohen practically light up when you walked into the training grounds, Varka would casually point it out. "You know you're always looking for her, right?" Lohen would initially dismiss it, genuinely unable to see anything unusual about what he was doing.
But Varka would continue explaining that it wasn't merely that Lohen enjoyed your company and it would leave Lohen unusually quiet.
He'd start thinking back over everything and, for perhaps the first time, actually examine his own behavior. He'd remember entering rooms and searching for you before he'd even realized he was doing it, the way seeing you could immediately brighten his mood, how he'd started looking forward to training sessions specifically because you would be there, and how strangely empty those same sessions felt when you couldn't make it.
The realization wouldn't arrive with some sweeping romantic epiphany. It would be much simpler and much more bewildering, Varka had given him a word for something Lohen had already been doing for months.
He'd stare ahead for a long moment before quietly saying, "You're saying I like her?" Once Varka confirmed it, Lohen would look genuinely stunned, as though someone had just explained a rule of the world he'd somehow never been taught.
He'd probably glance toward wherever you happened to be and watch you for a few seconds, noticing the same warmth spreading across his expression that Varka had been talking about.
Then he'd slowly run a hand through his hair, half laughing at himself. "So that's what this feeling is?"
From then on, he wouldn't suddenly become dramatically romantic, he'd simply become much more aware of what he'd already been doing. He'd still ask you to train with him, still teach you techniques, still wander over whenever he spotted you, and still smile instinctively whenever you entered a room. The difference would be that now he finally understood why.
── ( 𝒅. ) dottore would be particularly difficult to catch off guard because he would initially refuse to acknowledge that there was anything unusual about the way he treated you. He would regard his attachment as something that could be observed, analyzed, and eventually explained through reason, and for a considerable amount of time, that explanation would be enough for him.
Before realizing he has 'feelings' for you, he'd already be making deliberate accommodations that he would never bother making for anyone else. He'd allow you into laboratories and restricted areas where other people would be turned away without a second thought, tolerate you interrupting his work even when you arrived at the most inconvenient possible moment, and remember seemingly insignificant details about you with an accuracy that bordered on excessive.
He'd know which food you preferred, which subjects made you lose interest, when you were likely to become tired, and exactly how much patience you had for his experiments before you started complaining.
If someone questioned why you were permitted such liberties, he'd dismiss the matter with some clinical explanation about your usefulness or his own preference for your company over that of his colleagues.
Even his time would begin quietly accommodating you. He might postpone an experiment or a meeting because you were expected to visit, leave his laboratory earlier than usual because you had asked him to accompany you somewhere, or arrange his schedule so that you would encounter him during the few hours he was otherwise difficult to reach.
None of this would register as affection to him. He would simply categorize you as an exception, and Dottore was perfectly comfortable with exceptions when they were his to make. The more telling signs would appear in moments when his usual indifference should have taken precedence.
If you were injured, he would immediately notice. If someone endangered you, his attention would sharpen with a frightening immediacy. He would remember every detail surrounding the incident afterward, not because the information was scientifically interesting, but because he couldn't tolerate the possibility of it happening again.
Yet even then, he'd find some rational explanation for his behavior. You were a liability he needed to account for. Your safety affected his work. Your absence would be inconvenient. Your presence was simply preferable. He would keep giving himself increasingly elaborate explanations because admitting that he cared would require him to acknowledge that there was something about you he could not reduce to utility.
The realization would finally come when his own behavior contradicted every explanation he'd constructed. Perhaps he'd be in the middle of an experiment when news reached him that you'd been seriously injured.
Under ordinary circumstances, Dottore would finish what he was doing before allowing himself to be distracted, whatever problem existed could wait until the immediate task was complete. This time, however, he'd simply stop. His hands would go still over the equipment, his eyes lingering on the unfinished experiment for several silent seconds before he set everything aside without calculating the consequences.
He wouldn't even realize how strange the decision was until he was already on his way to you. Once he knew you were safe, the real disturbance would begin. He'd return to his laboratory and find himself staring at the abandoned work, mentally reconstructing what had happened and realizing that, for once, he'd made a decision without weighing its usefulness.
The experiment had simply stopped mattering the moment he'd learned you were hurt. That conclusion would irritate him more than the emotion itself. He'd begin examining the evidence with almost clinical precision, every precaution he'd taken specifically for your safety, every time he'd changed his plans because of you, every detail about you he'd memorized without intending to, every moment when his attention had instinctively shifted toward you even while surrounded by something more important.
Eventually, the pattern would become impossible to dismiss. He'd lean back, stare into the silence of the laboratory. "How inconvenient."
There would be no dramatic panic afterward. Instead, he'd become intensely curious about the realization, almost treating himself as another specimen to be studied. He'd test his own reactions, deliberately placing himself in situations where he could determine whether his behavior toward you was truly different from his behavior toward everyone else.
The answer would remain frustratingly consistent. He would continue insisting that nothing had fundamentally changed, even while becoming more deliberate about keeping you safe and maintaining your place within his life.
He wouldn't suddenly become openly sentimental or affectionate, that would be entirely contrary to his nature. If anything, he'd become more controlled, more attentive, and maybe even more possessive of the time and space you occupied in his world.
The difference would simply be that he now understood the reason behind it. You were no longer merely an interesting exception, a useful presence, or a variable he happened to tolerate. You had become the one variable he could neither explain away nor bring himself to eliminate, and for someone like Dottore, realizing that there was one person capable of becoming genuinely irreplaceable would be more unsettling than admitting he had fallen in love.
── ( 𝒄. ) childe would realize it almost accidentally, long before he ever thought to call it love, he'd already started treating you as someone distinctly more important than everyone else around him.
He'd invite you along whenever he had the opportunity, whether it was something as simple as wandering through the city or something more exciting that gave him an excuse to show off, and he'd turn nearly everything into some kind of game or challenge just to keep you entertained.
He'd constantly look for ways to make you laugh, deliberately exaggerating stories from his missions or pretending that some completely ordinary situation was far more dramatic than it actually was. He'd also develop the habit of bringing things back for you whenever he traveled, not necessarily expensive gifts, but small souvenirs he'd happened to see and immediately think you'd enjoy.
At first, he'd barely notice how often this happened. He'd simply return from a journey, spot something that reminded him of you, and think, you'd like this, before buying it without a second thought.
The difference would become more obvious in the way he treated your presence. Childe was naturally sociable and energetic, comfortable throwing himself into conversations and making friends wherever he went, but with you, there would be an extra degree of attention that he didn't give anyone else.
He'd remember things you'd told him weeks ago, notice immediately when something was bothering you, and instinctively check that you were alright whenever a situation became dangerous. If you were present during one of his fights, his attention would periodically flick toward you even while he was occupied with his opponent, and if you'd been left behind somewhere safe, he'd find himself wondering what you were doing before he'd even finished his mission.
He'd never consider any of this particularly strange. To him, you were simply you, someone he liked having around, someone whose company made even boring days more enjoyable. It wouldn't occur to him that he'd started measuring certain experiences by whether he could share them with you.
He'd return from an 'adventure' wanting to tell you about it first, encounter something amusing and immediately think about how you'd react, or catch himself looking through a crowd simply because some part of him expected to find you there. The thought would remain so ordinary in his mind that he wouldn't question it until one particular day made the pattern impossible to ignore.
The realization would probably hit him after returning from a particularly dangerous assignment, when he'd come back expecting the usual noise and bustle surrounding his arrival. He'd barely have time to step into the area before his eyes began moving through the crowd, searching automatically. He wouldn't even realize he was doing it at first.
His gaze would pass over familiar faces, fellow Fatui members, merchants, strangers, anyone standing nearby, until it finally landed on you. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd already been imagining the way you'd greet him, probably with that warm smile he had apparently grown so accustomed to seeing after every assignment.
But the moment you spotted him, that smile wouldn't come. Instead, your expression would immediately change with concern when you noticed the blood staining his clothes and the signs of a rough fight still visible across him.
You'd hurry toward him, asking whether he was hurt, your hands instinctively checking his arms and shoulders for injuries before he could even properly greet you. Childe would initially try to laugh it off, assuring you that he'd be fine and that most of the blood wasn't even his, but somewhere between your worried questions and the way you kept looking him over, his teasing response would gradually fade.
He'd simply stare at you. The warmth spreading through his chest would catch him completely off guard, almost like a flutter beneath his ribs, and for once he wouldn't have an immediate joke to cover it with.
He'd watch your worried expression, the way your brows had drawn together, the way you were still checking him despite his insistence that he was alright, and something inside him would suddenly feel impossibly light.
You were worried about him. The thought would make him stare at you with an almost bewildered fondness, his usual grin slowly returning as he realized just how much he liked being the person you cared about this deeply.
He'd blink only when you finally caught him staring and asked why he was looking at you like that. For a moment, he'd simply smile, almost dazed by the realization that had settled so naturally into place.
Then he'd laugh under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck as everything he'd previously dismissed began connecting at once, all the times he'd searched for you first after returning from an assignment, every souvenir he'd picked up because it reminded him of you, every story he'd wanted to tell you before anyone else, every excuse he'd invented to spend another afternoon together, and every time he'd found himself wondering whether you were safe while he was away.
It suddenly made perfect sense.
"Ah." The word would escape quietly before his smile widened. "How'd I not realize this sooner?" He'd probably find the whole realization almost amusing, especially after realizing how long he'd apparently been oblivious.
Yet rather than pulling away from the feeling, he'd simply let himself enjoy it, looking at you with that same soft, fascinated expression while you continued fussing over his injuries.
── ( 𝒘. ) wanderer would resist the realization longer than almost anyone because the very idea of being emotionally attached to someone would irritate him before he ever allowed himself to accept it. Long before he understood what was happening, you would already have become one of the few people capable of bringing out a warmth in him that he himself barely recognized.
It would almost feel like some forgotten part of him had resurfaced whenever he was with you, something softer and strangely content that he would immediately try to bury beneath his usual indifference. You could invite him somewhere as simple as wandering through the city, sitting somewhere quiet, or accompanying you while you talked about something that interested you, and his first response would almost always sound annoyed.
"Do you ever get tired of dragging me around?" Yet he'd still go. He'd complain about the destination, complain about how long you'd been talking, complain when you got distracted by something along the way, but he would never actually leave.
In reality, he'd be paying close attention to everything you said. He'd remember the details of your stories, ask questions when something genuinely caught his interest, and occasionally offer his own opinion before pretending he hadn't been listening that closely.
If you noticed how engaged he was and smiled because he was clearly enjoying himself, he'd immediately become defensive. "What? Don't look at me like that. I'm only listening because you won't stop talking." But he'd remain beside you anyway, sometimes so close that your shoulders nearly brushed, perfectly content to let you fill the silence.
He would especially enjoy the moments when you became animated about something you loved. He'd watch you talk, occasionally interrupting with a dry remark or challenging something you said simply to keep the conversation going, and then act irritated whenever you pointed out that he was clearly enjoying himself.
If you suggested doing something together again another day, he'd roll his eyes and pretend to consider it a nuisance. But he'd remember the suggestion perfectly and, when the day came, would somehow already be waiting for you.
His affection would also begin showing itself through physical closeness in ways that would be almost shocking compared to how he treated everyone else. Wanderer generally wouldn't tolerate unnecessary touching, but with you, the rules would quietly change.
If you were walking too slowly and he wanted you to follow him, he'd simply reach down and take your hand, tugging you along without even thinking about it. If you tried teasing him about it, he'd immediately look away and mutter that it was faster than waiting for you.
He might catch your hand again when crossing a crowded street, pull you closer when he wanted your attention, or casually keep hold of your wrist while leading you somewhere, all while behaving as though none of it were remotely significant. He wouldn't be affectionate in an openly sentimental way, instead, he'd simply become accustomed to having you within reach.
Sitting beside you would feel natural. Walking with your hand in his would feel natural. Listening to you talk for hours would feel natural. And the fact that he was genuinely happy during those moments would be something he stubbornly refused to examine.
The realization would therefore hit him not simply because he protected you, but because he would eventually recognize what being around you did to him. Perhaps you'd invited him somewhere he had initially called boring, only for the two of you to spend hours together talking about whatever happened to come to mind.
At some point, you'd laugh at something he said, and he'd catch himself smiling before immediately trying to hide it. Or perhaps you'd reach for his hand without thinking and he'd instinctively let you take it, realizing only afterward that he hadn't pulled away. Instead, he'd tightened his fingers around yours.
That would make him pause.
He'd look down at your joined hands, then at you, and something about the quiet familiarity of it would feel strangely profound.
He'd remember how often he'd allowed himself to enjoy these moments despite pretending otherwise, how quickly his mood improved when you appeared, how he'd started looking forward to your conversations, and how your absence left a peculiar emptiness that he would never have admitted existed. Most importantly, he'd realize that you brought out a version of him he had almost forgotten existed.
Around you, he could be irritated without being cruel, quiet without being distant, playful without feeling foolish, and genuinely happy without having to explain why. The thought would bother him more than he'd like.
"No." He'd immediately reject whatever conclusion had begun forming, looking away as though the realization itself were an insult. But once he started noticing it, he wouldn't be able to stop.
Eventually, he'd click his tongue, fold his arms, and mutter bitterly to himself, "You've got to be kidding me."
The realization would make him defensive, but it wouldn't make him pull away. If anything, he'd become even more attached while pretending otherwise.
── ( 𝒗. ) varka would probably be one of the last people to realize it because, for months, he'd have absolutely no reason to suspect that what he felt for you was anything beyond genuine fondness. He was naturally warm, affectionate, and generous with the people he cared about, so none of his behavior toward you would initially strike him as unusual.
The real problem would be that he simply talks about you constantly. You'd become an almost ridiculous fixture in his conversations, to the point that the Knights would eventually know far more about you than they ever intended to.
Someone could mention a meal they had recently eaten and Varka would immediately remember something you'd once said about that particular dish. He'd return from an expedition with some strange object he'd found along the way and immediately start telling everyone how you'd probably love it, or how you would have laughed at something he'd seen, or how he wished you'd been there to see a particularly beautiful view.
Even when he was hundreds of miles away, you'd somehow find your way into his thoughts. He'd be walking through unfamiliar territory and suddenly wonder what you were doing back in Mondstadt, whether you'd eaten yet, whether you'd enjoyed the weather that day, or whether you'd have liked the place he was currently standing in.
He'd talk about you so naturally that he wouldn't even realize how often your name came up. "She'd love this place," he'd remark while looking over some distant landscape, only to continue talking about you for another ten minutes without noticing he'd completely changed the subject.
The Knights would eventually exchange knowing looks whenever it happened. Varka, meanwhile, would remain oblivious.
If someone teased him about it, he'd simply laugh. "What? I'm allowed to talk about someone I like," (the other knights would be frustrated how easily he's throwing around those three words).
He'd insist that he was merely fond of your company, yet somehow another story about you would inevitably follow.
His affection would be just as obvious when you were actually nearby. At gatherings, he'd naturally keep you within reach, throwing an arm around your shoulders while talking to someone else or casually drawing you closer whenever the crowd became too dense.
If he noticed you becoming overwhelmed or uncomfortable, he'd quietly shift the conversation so you could participate, introduce you to someone you hadn't met, make sure there was a seat available for you, or bring you something to eat before you ever thought to ask.
He'd notice whether you were getting tired, whether the room was too cold, whether you had been standing for too long, and somehow solve each little problem without making it obvious that he'd been paying attention. None of it would feel particularly romantic to him. He'd simply be taking care of you in the same easy, instinctive way he took care of people he considered important.
Once someone finally pointed out just how often he talked about you, however, Varka would actually stop and think about it. He'd initially laugh, perhaps insisting that everyone was exaggerating, until someone began listing examples.
Varka would gradually fall quiet as he realized they were right. He'd think back to all those expeditions where something beautiful had caught his eye and his first thought had been that you should see it, all the meals where he'd instinctively remembered which portion you'd prefer, and all the gatherings where he'd automatically checked whether you were comfortable before settling himself down.
He'd realize that even when you weren't physically there, some part of his mind was constantly accounting for you. The thought would be almost absurdly simple once he finally saw it. He wouldn't merely enjoy your company, you had become part of the way he experienced the world.
Everything reminded him of you because, somewhere along the way, he'd started wanting you involved in everything he experienced.
Varka would stare into the distance for a moment before slowly rubbing his chin. "Huh." Then, as the realization finally settled, a deep laugh would escape him. "Well, I'll be damned." He'd find the whole thing more amusing than embarrassing, especially when he realized how long everyone else had probably known.
After that, his behavior wouldn't become dramatically different because he'd already been treating you with affection for months.
── ( 𝒌. ) kinich would take much longer to recognize it simply because he wouldn't spend much time examining his own emotions in the first place. Before realizing he was in love with you, he'd already be making countless small adjustments around you without ever thinking of them as affection.
He'd wait for you before leaving somewhere even when there was no practical reason to do so, automatically slow his pace when you fell behind, remember exactly how you preferred to train, and quietly step in whenever you struggled with something without making a point of announcing that he'd noticed.
If you were tired, he'd alter the day's plans without complaint. If you were carrying something awkward, he'd simply take it from you. If you were struggling with a technique, he'd demonstrate it again and correct your stance with the same patient precision he used when teaching anyone else, except he'd somehow always have more time for you.
His version of quality time would be particularly practical and understated, he'd ask you to accompany him on commissions, invite you to train with him, teach you techniques he'd learned, spar with you when you wanted to improve, or let you sit nearby while he prepared his equipment.
He wouldn't need constant conversation to enjoy having you there. Your presence itself would become something he naturally accounted for. Other people would begin noticing long before Kinich did. Mualani, especially, would find it amusing how easily you seemed to slip past the distance Kinich normally maintained with people, while Kachina would notice the quieter details, how he always seemed to know where you were, how he waited for you without mentioning it, and how naturally you could stand beside him without him ever seeming bothered by your proximity.
Kinich wasn't someone who allowed just anyone to become that close to him, which made your place beside him increasingly obvious to everyone watching. He might normally keep conversations brief or prefer doing things alone, yet with you, he'd tolerate you sitting beside him for hours, answer your questions, listen when you talked, and occasionally even start conversations himself.
His acts of service would be just as subtle. He'd check your equipment before a dangerous journey, make sure you had enough supplies, adjust plans if he knew a route would be too difficult for you, or silently position himself on the side closest to whatever posed the greater danger.
He wouldn't call any of it protective. It was simply efficient. At least, that's what he'd tell himself. Even his protectiveness around other people would become increasingly obvious. If someone began acting strangely toward you, standing too close, speaking to you in a way he didn't like, or making you visibly uncomfortable, Kinich's attention would immediately shift.
He wouldn't necessarily confront them outright. Instead, he'd quietly move closer, place himself between you and the other person under some perfectly reasonable excuse, or simply call your name and redirect your attention elsewhere. His expression would remain calm, his voice level, but there would be a subtle firmness to his presence that made it clear he was paying attention.
If Mualani happened to notice, she'd probably find the whole thing hilarious because Kinich would insist he was merely being cautious. "You don't usually do that!" she'd point out.
Kinich would simply look at her and dismiss what she said.
The realization would probably come from Ajaw after he'd spent far too long watching all of this happen. Ajaw would eventually become unbearable about it, loudly pointing out every time Kinich changed his plans because you were involved, every time he automatically searched for you in a crowd, and every time he positioned himself nearby when someone made you uncomfortable.
Kinich would ignore him at first, insisting there was nothing unusual about it, but eventually even he would start thinking about the pattern.
He'd eventually pause in the middle of whatever he was doing, staring ahead for several seconds as all those little observations finally connected. "So that's what this is."
While Ajaw loudly screamed at the back of his head, "THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL YOU!!"
There wouldn't be much outward panic, Kinich would simply become unusually quiet, processing the realization with the same patience he applied to everything else. The next time you appeared, however, the difference would be almost imperceptible. His eyes would follow you a little longer, his expression would soften when you approached, and when you sat beside him, he wouldn't merely make room, he'd shift closer without thinking.
Ajaw would immediately notice and start laughing, while Mualani and Kachina would probably exchange knowing looks because, to everyone else, the answer had been obvious for quite some time.
warning(s) -> fluff, secret nighttime visits, teasing, romantic tension, close proximity, oblivious lohen, amused varka, mild embarrassment | wordcount. 1.2k | notes. HEY GUYS IM FINALLY BACK TEEHEE :3 enjoy this semi-long fic which is from my old account which took too long to re-edit. art credits
lohen makes a habit of sneaking into your room through the window, insisting it's the easiest way to see you. when varka catches him mid-climb, neither of you is prepared for his reaction.
the first time lohen shows up at your window, you almost scream.
it’s late—far too late for visitors—and the room is lit only by a dim lamp and the soft glow of the moon slipping through the curtains. you’re halfway through getting ready for bed when you hear it:
a quiet tap.
you freeze.
another one, more deliberate this time.
your heart starts pounding as you slowly turn toward the window.
“…no way,” you whisper.
the tapping comes again.
you inch closer, hesitating before pulling the curtain back just slightly—
and there he is.
lohen is balanced on the narrow ledge like it’s nothing, one hand braced against the wall, the other raised mid-knock. his expression is completely calm, like this is a normal, reasonable thing to be doing at this hour.
you stare at him and he stares back.
“open it,” he says, voice muffled by the window between you two.
you blink rapidly. “are you insane?!”
“possibly,” he replies, unfazed. “it depends on how long you keep me out here.”
your stomach drops as you glance down instinctively. you don’t live in a penthouse or anything, but your room is still about 6 stories high
“…you climbed up here.”
“yes.” he says it like it required no effort at all.
you hesitate for another second before quickly unlocking the window and pushing it open just enough for him to slip through.
the moment his feet hit your floor, you shut it again and pull the curtains tight.
“what are you doing here?” you whisper harshly, turning back to him. “what if someone saw you?!”
“no one did.”
he doesn’t sound worried in the slightest.
if anything, he sounds mildly curious about why you are.
you run a hand through your hair, trying to steady your breathing. “that’s not the point, lohen. you can’t just climb into my room in the middle of the night!”
he watches you for a moment, then tilts his head slightly.
“but you didn’t say you didn’t want me here.”
your face heats instantly.
“that’s- that’s not what i meant.”
he steps closer, enough to close the space between you.
“then what did you mean?”
your words catch in your throat.
being this close to him, in your room, at night—it feels different. quieter. more dangerous, somehow, like the secrecy itself is pressing in around you.
“we could get caught,” you manage.
“we won’t.” he says it simply, like it’s already decided.
your heart is still racing. “you don’t know that-”
“i do.”
he lifts a hand, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face without hesitation. the familiarity of the gesture makes your breath hitch.
“i checked.”
“you… checked?”
“yes.” he doesn’t elaborate, and you don’t bother trying to make him explain further.
you stare at him, your expression somewhere between disbelief and something softer you don’t want to name.
“you’re unbelievable.”
“you still opened the window.”
your face burns again, and you look away immediately. “i panicked.”
“you recognized me.” he says it quietly, like that’s the important part.
you don’t respond. you don’t need to.
lohen studies your expression for a moment before his gaze softens just slightly.
“i missed you.”
the words are simple, but in the stillness of your room, they feel heavier than they should.
you glance back at him, your chest tightening. “you saw me this morning.”
“that was different.” he steps closer again, stopping just short of touching you. “i couldn’t talk to you like this.”
your heart skips. “like what?”
his gaze flicks briefly to the door, then back to you.
“without pretending like we’re nothing.”
the room feels smaller, quieter.
you swallow. “you’re still going to get us caught.”
“then tell me to leave.” he says it immediately. no hesitation, no teasing.
just a calm offer.
you open your mouth and hesitate.
lohen watches you carefully. “i thought so.”
your face heats as he lets out the faintest breath of something that almost sounds like amusement.
“just-” you whisper, stepping closer and grabbing his sleeve instinctively, “keep your voice down.”
he stills at the contact. then looks down at your hand and then back at you.
“you’re the one pulling me closer.”
you immediately let go like you’ve been burned. “i wasn’t- i just-”
he moves this time, closing the distance properly, yet he’s still not touching you.
just close enough that you feel it again—that quiet, charged space between you that only exists when no one else is around.
“if you’re worried about being caught,” he murmurs, voice softer now, “you shouldn’t do things like that.”
your breath catches.
“you came into my room,” you whisper back. “you don’t get to lecture me.”
“that’s fair.”
he doesn’t argue.
which somehow throws you off more.
there’s a pause. a quiet one.
then—
“will you let me stay?”
your heart stumbles.
“for a little while,” he adds, almost as an afterthought. like it matters less than the question itself.
you glance toward the door. then the window. then back at him.
this is a bad idea.
a terrible one.
you already know that.
“just for a bit,” you mutter.
lohen’s expression softens—not dramatically, not obviously, but enough that you notice.
“that’s enough.”
and when he leans just slightly closer, lowering his voice even further—like the world outside your room doesn’t exist— you realize you’d probably open that window every time.
---
varka wasn’t supposed to be back in mondstadt yet.
that’s what you keep telling yourself later.
that if he had stuck to his expedition schedule, none of this would’ve happened.
but unfortunately, varka has never been particularly predictable.
it’s late, quiet.
the kind of quiet where even the knights on patrol have grown sparse, their footsteps distant and fading.
lohen moves easily along the outer wall, fingers finding holds in stone like he’s done this a hundred times before.
(which he has.)
his movements are controlled, silent, precise—
until a voice cuts through the dark.
“interesting.”
lohen stops instantly. slowly, he looks down.
and there, standing a short distance away with his arms crossed and a very obvious grin, is varka.
watching him.
“carry on,” varka says casually, like he’s commenting on the weather. “don’t mind me.”
there’s a pause.
lohen doesn’t move. “…you’re blocking the path,” he says calmly.
varka raises a brow. “am i?”
he very much isn’t.
lohen looks at him for another second before continuing his climb like nothing happened.
varka watches, amused.
“you know,” he calls out, not even trying to be quiet, “most people use doors.”
lohen reaches your window, taps once, and waits.
“this is more efficient,” he replies.
varka laughs under his breath. “is that what we’re calling it?”
the window opens slightly.
you peek out and immediately freeze when you see both of them. “…oh no.”
lohen slips inside before you can say anything else.
you stare down at varka, horrified. “you didn’t see anything.”
varka looks up at you, smiling far too knowingly.
“of course not.” a beat. “…but i did see someone scaling a building in the middle of the night to visit a certain knight’s room.”
you slam the window shut immediately.
inside, you turn to lohen, panicking. “he saw you-”
“yes.” he doesn’t seem concerned at all.
“and you’re not worried?!”
lohen considers that for a moment.
“he didn’t stop me.”
you stare at him.
“that’s your takeaway?!”
lohen nods slightly, completely serious.
and outside, somewhere below, you can still faintly hear varka laughing.
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synopsis : a storm cuts your expedition short, leaving you and lohen stuck in an abandoned cabin in nod-krai. one thing leads to another when you admit that you've never had your first kiss. and suddenly, being best friends doesn’t feel quite as simple anymore.
content : 18+. smut — fingering, unprotected sex, nipple sucking, first kiss, choking, rough sex, biting, virgin reader, plot heavy
word count : 5.1k
note : lowk the nastiest shit ive written nd i sped thru the editing apologies
Lohen, has yet again, been sent on an expedition to Nod-Krai. With a rather amusing partner, to add. Not only does Lohen get to observe Leyline anomalies, a less demanding expedition compared to the Wild Hunt experience he’s had with Varka, he also gets to enjoy his time in Nod-Krai alongside a best friend he’s known for years.
Having met Lohen way back in Dorman Port meant that you would have a lifetime of friendship to share with him. You knew all about the bittersweet part of his story and he knew better than to take advantage of your secret-keeping skills. Lohen warmed up to you overtime when you, too, told him about your own story. From then on, an unmistakable bond had formed between you two and you had become one of the people that Lohen sees as permanent.
“I see Grand Master Varka has assigned you to this case, too.” His sly voice never gets past you. With an equally smug smile present on his lips, he beams at you from a near distance while leaning against a pillar.
You roll your eyes albeit the smile cascading on your lips. “I wish he hadn’t now that I know you’re on this too.” You slip out the usual teasing—pretending that being with him is the most unfortunate situation one could be in.
Lohen shrugs his shoulders, tosses you a paper filled in with all the details of the expedition. “Yeah, right. Don’t hold me back later on, m’kay?” He waves a hand before turning around, the smile ghosting off of his lips as he makes his way towards a nearby table to organize his things.
You scoff while you run through the details, “I should be the one telling you that, Mr. Your-Handwriting-Sucks.” You smack the paper onto the wooden table when you hear Lohen snort from where he stood, his back facing you.
“Alright, can’t get anything to say about my skills so you target my handwriting. How mature.” He spits back but there’s that gentle teasing present in both of your voices that keeps offense at bay.
You know Lohen far too well to even mistake his harsh words for offense. You know him, even by the slightest lilt of his voice, that he enjoys this playful banter with you as you do with him. And that’s one thing you’re happy to share with him—mutual understanding.
Calm silence engulfs the room for a split second before Lohen’s things shuffle. “We move in two hours. Glad to have you on the ship, [Name].” He turns around, irises glinting a bit with enthusiasm and you catch his eyes for a second. On his lips plastered a playful smirk when he sees that your lips ghosted a smile, and your cheeks faint with pinkness he doesn’t have the courage to acknowledge where from.
You watch him leave the room and you’re left alone and occupied with your thoughts. Particularly, one thought stuck with you. To think you’re about to spend two weeks with Lohen at some faraway land across Teyvat is something you should not be so enthusiastically excited about. After all, Lohen’s your best friend and this, everything about it, shouldn’t be such a fascinating situation to you.
On the other hand, Lohen wishes he hadn’t been so aware of everything. Because now, he wonders. Every little hint from you, he thinks about. And he can’t help but smile just a tad bit when he realizes he’s thinking about it again—the fact that you’ve liked him for quite some time now and he’s merely playing the innocent façade to see where it leads him to.
Though, one would say that Lohen isn’t all that subtle too. To think that Lohen is this hyperfixated on the fact that you like him quite already tells one the whole picture.
The rain began quietly, little droplets spread onto the concrete on Nod-Krai’s streets. At first, it didn’t do much to disrupt your on-going expedition, but as soon as a few seconds had passed by, it started going on a rampage. Thunder struck down from the heavens and those who strolled the streets immediately ran to seek shelter like you and Lohen did.
“Put this on, [Name]—!” Lohen’s voice came from beside you and when you looked to see, he had his arm reached out and his jacket in hand. “Put it on your head, let’s go over there.”
You take the jacket from him, shawling it on your head as you both run across the wet cement and through the raging storm to get to a nearby shelter.
You thank the Archons for putting you alongside Lohen when the storm abruptly came to delay the expedition’s progress. Having been stationed quite a distance from the Knights’ headquarters, your only option was to take shelter at some old, abandoned cabin.
When the wood creaked beneath your feet and the droplets cracked sound against the rooftop, the cold wind ran past you making you shiver.
You look around, eyes scanning the rather old exterior of the cabin. “What’s this place?” You ask, hands busy with the jacket, putting it around you despite it being heavy with absorbed water. Though, it did do much to shield you from the freezing breeze of the storm.
Lohen pushes the door open with ease and his eyes observe the rust that covered the hearth in the center of the room and the cobwebs that circled around the ceiling. “Seems like an old adventurer’s cabin. Abandoned, too.” He invites you in, shuts the door behind to keep you both warm from the relentless cold.
He finds wood on the hearth and a box of matchsticks on top of it. “Thank the Archons, look at what we have.” He snickers while he lights a stick up then tosses it onto the hearth, the fire immediately spreading to create an even stronger source of warmth.
You chuckle at his enthusiasm but your smile soon gets replaced by a frown when thunder rumbles outside and the rain droplets echo louder against the rooftop. “Sounds like the rain won’t be stopping any time soon.” You slump your shoulders before sitting in front of the hearth beside Lohen on the floor.
Lohen hums, putting his hands before the fire and rubbing them against each other. He frees himself off the tight outer layers of his clothing, leaving himself in a loose white dress shirt. You hear his accessories chiming softly when he takes each layer off and you dare not look beside you when he does so. Only ever keeping your eyes situated on the blazing fire before you.
“Haaa… I feel so much lighter.” He slumps beside you, an expression of relief evident on his face when you finally look to see him no longer dressed in his wet outer layers. “And warmer.”
Silence engulfs you both for a few beats before Lohen speaks up again. “You should, you know, get those outer layers off too. They’re wet and you’re going to catch a cold if you stay in them.” Lohen eyes you from where he sat and surely, he was just looking out for you.
You hum, considering it before finally putting the jacket onto your side and slowly unbuttoning your own to free yourself off the cold fabric that water clung onto.
When done, you’re left in a rather thin shirt. One that you’d wear as an inner to keep the fabric of your clothes from rubbing onto your skin. And albeit the chill air from the storm that entered through the cracks of the cabin, you felt no such breeze. All that your skin met was the oddly comforting warmth of sitting in front of a fire beside your best friend.
“Feel better?” Lohen shoots you a smile and when you nod he snickers proudly, “told ‘ya.”
The fire cackling is the only sound that engulfed the cabin for the first few moments of your stay. You nuzzled closer into the hearth, wrapping your arms around your torso to envelope yourself in some additional warmth.
“Say, have you read that book?” Lohen snaps his fingers as though he’s recalling something that’s poking right against the tip of his tongue. “That one—you know, the one Miss Lisa told us to read? Ah, what was the title of that again.” He groans in frustration when the title doesn’t come to him.
You look up at the ceiling, hearing the harsh droplets of the rain against the roof. “Wasn’t it ‘Love Is A Cruel Endeavor For An Adventurer’?"
Lohen’s lips fall agape when you mention the one book that he has read, and indeed the very book he’s referring to. “Yeah, yeah, that one. What d’ya think about it?” And all of the sudden, the tension disappears when he leans closer to you as though he’s anticipating your very interesting response to his query.
You try to usher back when the proximity becomes somewhat somehow unfamiliar to what you’re usually used to when it comes to Lohen. You clear your throat before casually sharing your thoughts. “Good writing, I guess. The kissing scene was—” your words halt just a tad bit and you almost choke when you catch yourself, “—was my favorite scene.” You can only hope your thoughts won’t make the situation more awkward as it already is.
Lohen gasps, leaning back in disbelief. “No way. That scene was absolute bullshit actually, first kisses don't go like that in real life.” He muses out, hands in the air as if your thoughts are most unbelievable.
You scoff before looking away, “who are you to judge anyway? Have you had your first kiss?” You push, looking back at him with eyes so innocently looking into his own.
Lohen huffs when he hears your question. For a second there, he considers lying. But then, he’s got a penchant for teasing and one person he so likes making playful fun of is you.
He rolls his eyes before looking back at you with a mocking glint in his eyes. “Oh yeah, I have. I mean who hasn’t? At our grown age, surely one kiss is expected.” The words loll out of his lips so naturally. “What? You haven’t had yours yet?”
There it is again, Lohen’s signature teasing tone. And you’d recognize it even at a distance. Partnered with the usual mocking smile he wore. Oh, he’s got you offended.
You can’t bring yourself to lie about it because he’s right—you haven’t had your first kiss yet. Silence envelopes the room and the only sound heard is the quiet cackling of the fire in the hearth that kept you both warm in the raging storm.
Lohen takes notice of the overdue silence and bursts out a laugh. “Oh, fuck, was I right? You haven’t had your first kiss, yet? Oh my—” He cackles in between words and a blush begins to form across your cheeks when his teasing goes right through your skin and hits a nerve.
“Oh, shut it, Lohen.” You roll your eyes, folding your arms across your chest before inching towards the fire. You turn your body to the side to eye Lohen who was hysterically laughing at the newfound information of you not yet having your first kiss. “Bet kissing feels weird anyway. I mean, all that saliva? Unhygienic, too.”
Your attempt to gaslight yourself only brings Lohen laughing out of his wits. He clutches his stomach as he folds forward, towards you. All that echoes across the room is his laughter—his laugh that you're oh so willing to listen to for the entirety of your stay here in this cabin.
“Oh yeah?” Lohen finally sits back up straight, wiping the tears of joy that ran down his cheeks from too much laughing. “Wanna—” he laughs again, “find out?”
His laughter stops but the smile etched on his lips did not falter as he looked you dead in the eye. He takes note of the pout on your lips and your furrowed eyebrows—probably because his teasing had frustrated you. The teasing smile he had now turned into one with intentions, and even though you’re trying your best not to give into whatever he’s inviting you into, there’s a certain interest that clouds his eyes.
Lohen sees the subtle quiver of your lips and he looks away while he considers what he’s about to do. He gestures to you to lean into him. “Come closer, I’ll teach you.” Typical Lohen, always getting into things that will get him into trouble after.
You eye him suspiciously at first while you consider what you’re about to do. The vivid image of your first time meeting Lohen back at Dorman Port flashes across your mind and you wonder if this one-time thing is worth ruining whatever bond you two have formed over the years.
But then again, at some point—you don’t know when—the feelings you held for your best friend had outweighed the friendship you two shared. Your stomach churns at the thought but your heart no longer beats the same way as it did before whenever your eyes landed on him.
Though, while you scooted over towards him, you did not wonder what came over him to suggest such a thing.
Your knees touch as you both sit on the floor, the fire cackling beside you and your breaths fanning each other’s lips. Your glossed lips agape while your eyes nervously jump from his eyes down to his lips and back to his eyes.
You feel pathetic. Because while you swallow a nervous lump, Lohen’s expression holds a smug one. Lips upturned into a mocking smirk and a soft chuckle exiting his lips while he inches closer to you. One hand reaching out to caress your cheeks that are so warm with the blood that had rushed with the feeling of anticipation.
“Open your lips a tad bit.” He instructs, nodding his head towards you as he leans in even impossibly closer. He takes a hold of your shoulder, rubbing his hand up and down against it before whispering to you, “relax. It’s just me, [Name].” Then he moves to wrap his fingers around your nape.
You feel your shoulders buzz when finally, his lips land on yours. It’s cinematic in the way that you immediately feel the softness of his rather pink lips, and the warmth that enveloped him is now shared with you. His fingers gingerly caress your cheeks while his lips actively chase after your inexperienced ones.
You don’t know what you’re doing yet Lohen keeps on tugging you back every time you try to lean away. You’re very much convinced that you’re doing it right because he’s not doing much to end the kiss. Instead, you feel Lohen’s tongue on the crease of your mouth’s entrance, as though he’s seeking your permission that he enters. Unaware, you merely open your lips just a tad bit and the next thing you feel is the strange lap of his tongue against yours.
A sound finally leaves your lips when he swirls his tongue with yours, leading you in a dance of lust and morally compromised decisions.
You hear Lohen chuckle lowly against the kiss when the oddly lewd sound leaves your throat. His free hand moves to hold you by your waist, fingers tugging you inwards until you’re one inch away from sitting on his lap.
Finally, Lohen pulls back. And he has you gasping for air when the kiss finally ends with a string of a saliva still connecting you both. The image is lewd—your fingers loosely yanking at his dress shirt while one of his hands rested firmly on the curve of your hips and both of your shoulders heaving up and down breathlessly.
“You good?” He puckers his lips out before pressing a peck onto your lips for the last time and it catches you off guard, shoulder jerking at the speed of everything.
“Not bad.” Lohen comments and your eyebrows raise. “For a first timer, you are a pretty good kisser.” He hums before tugging you even closer that it’s almost impossible not to land on his lap.
“Want more?” He guides you to finally settle on his lap as he turns slightly to face the fireplace. Your bottom rests firmly on his lap and a blush spreads across your cheek when you feel something poking you, and so by the great blessing of the Archons, you try your best to ignore it.
He presses a kiss to your cheeks as his hands make their way around your waist, hugging you from behind and caressing your stomach through the thin fabric of your tee. “Use me, pretty girl.” His hot breath fans against your ear and you finally acknowledge the heat that pools down there.
The hands that once held your hands while he teaches you to wield a weapon was now wrapped around your neck, arching your head upwards so that he can press his lips on your soft skin. Teeth digging down your flesh and it elicits a sound from you. You feel vibrations down your throat when he chuckles against you, “good, yeah?”
You hum out softly before leaning back against him, you crane your neck to the side as Lohen’s lips land to nip at a better spot against the skin of your neck. You feel him suck, and bite through your flesh—his teeth digging down your skin and you’re quite certain he’s made you bleed.
You let out a soft moan as he moves to another spot, “it hurts… Lohen.” You call out his name as he sucks against your skin once more, quite determined that he leaves some sort of mark on you.
You feel him vibrate behind you as he speaks. “Really? ‘m sorry, pretty girl.” He calls you by that name again and it makes your heart flutter—because why would he call you by that name? He nips against your skin again like he hasn’t said anything to make your heart race and your body warm with confusion.
You swallow yet again another nervous lump as Lohen’s hands roam, going down under your shirt and you finally feel his bare hands against your naked skin. They rest on your stomach before exploring upwards and you jerk at the feeling of his fingers dangerously close to your mounds.
He breathes out before pressing a kiss onto your cheek and down to your neck. “Can I?” He requests as if his character isn’t all built around someone who dislikes having his authority challenged. But with you, he speaks differently—as if you possess something that breaks his character altogether.
You merely look to his side, pressing a kiss onto his lips as a reply. He digs his fingers underneath your garment and finally rests to cup your mounds and your perked up nipples. You shiver at the feeling of being cupped, his rough hands feel soft against your skin. This is new yet you feel no strangeness to it, not even while he relishes in the feeling of your soft tits in his hands.
“You feel so soft against me, [Name]. Are you enjoying this?” He takes note of your erected nipples, smirking proudly to himself when he realizes it is in fact a sign of your arousal.
You let out a soft moan again, body wiggling as an attempt to ease the anticipation you’re feeling and as well as to calm your nerves that have been raging ever since the kiss had your heat pooling slick down there.
You swallow a lump of saliva down your throat as his hands trace the shape of your body, leaving electricity to trail down your skin as he does so. His fingers reach the curve of your hips, thumbs circling around an area before they hook themselves on the hem of your pants.
“Are we good?” He converses, making sure that you’re lucid all throughout whatever you’re about to do and not merely doing it because it’s cold and loud outside with the storm raging on.
You nod your head, sliding your arm down until your fingertips feel the rough surface of his leg. You squirm on his lap until you feel something that pokes your back. It makes your cheeks flush with blood, embarrassed and shy that you might have made Lohen that way.
He puts one hand inside of your pants and at first it feels uncomfortable but when Lohen positions you properly, a wave of coziness washes over you and you find yourself leaning back against his chest. But it’s short-lived when you feel his hand trace over your clothed pussy, only after a while does he cup you through your panties.
A mocking scoff—yet proudly so—exits his lips when he feels the dampness on his palm. The slick immediately covers his hand like it’s been pooling waterfalls down there. “Oh, would you look at that, you seem so eager for someone who hates the idea of kissing, pretty girl.” He muses, fingers tracing down the slit of your pussy, teasing you ever so slightly.
It fusses something inside you—the way his slender, and rather bony fingers teasing your entrance. The feeling of your panties in the way fuels your desire to feel him deep inside of you. You croak out a choked moan, “faster, Lohen. Quick…”
He chuckles at this, finding your impatience amusing. He wastes no time, putting your panties to the side and sliding two digits inside of you with ease—well, with the way you’re so wet with your arousal, it indeed is easy.
You gasp out at the feeling of his fingers intruding inside of you with little to no preparation. You feel him repeatedly hit a spot and it gets your knees growing weak and your legs jerking with the way that you can’t do anything but receive the continuous wave of pleasure.
“Oh—fuck, Lohen—! Right there—” You choke out, hands going behind to grab whatever you can just to ease the feeling of pain and pleasure combining.
Lohen fastens his pace, making sure that he hits the right spot. “Oh yeah?” He lolls out as he takes a hold of your hips to hit somewhere even deeper. “Do my fingers feel good?”
It’s perverted—the way saliva drips down your chin as you nod your head and repeatedly say yes as an answer to his question. Who knew that one day, you’d have your best friend’s fingers up your pussy and he pumps them in and out like it’s his responsibility to do so?
The next thing you see is absolute darkness. Your eyelids grow weak and you feel yourself losing to exhaustion. As though stars cloud your mind, you lean back against him. You pass down your high as your cum spills. out of you and along his fingers that remained settled on your thighs.
“We good?” He kisses your cheeks as he wipes a bit of dampness off your thighs, rubbing his hand up and down on it while subtly keeping them open. “Can we keep going, pretty girl?” He asks, pulling on your chin to make you look at him.
Another wave of desperation washes over you and you feel unsatisfied from mere fingering. When you look deep into his eyes, you feel yourself tremble with the feeling of wanting more. Your pussy pulsates when his eyes stare deep inside of you and your eyes behold the beauty he held.
Lohen, truly, is beautiful.
Lohen chuckles when he notices your hand reaching out for him. You turn around from where you’re seated on his lap until you’re face to face with him. You planted both of your hands on your chest before pushing him down onto the dirty carpet of the wooden floor of this abandoned cabin. The wood creaks and the fire cackles peacefully behind you.
Lohen’s back lands on the carpet and he watches as you position yourself to sit on him. Both of your knees on either side of his thighs and one of your hands pressing up against his chest.
“Oh?” He muses, eyes glinting with mischief as he watches you take off your garments while your hips squirm against him. A smirk never left his lips even while you teasingly threw your clothes off until you’re left in nothing to reveal your naked body before him.
“Temptress. You are absolutely beautiful. I’ve always thought you were but help me Archons, this is on another level, pretty girl.” He gasps out, one hand impatiently reaching out to touch your body with such gentleness you wouldn’t see from him and his rather violent nature. “You feel soft. Dainty. I’m afraid I’ve tainted you.” He chuckles unapologetically as his eyes trace upon the red marks he’s made all across your neck.
He pulls you in by your wrists, lowering you down until both of your lips are locked together again. He swirls his tongue with yours and it doesn’t take you long before you’ve become used to the feeling. Used and addicted, that is.
You sit back up and he follows, he lowers himself down as you arch your back involuntarily when his lips land on the crevice of your neck and his tongue trails down, leaving a line of saliva, to kiss around the curve of your mounds. Then, he takes one perked up bud into his mouth, eyes looking back up to watch how your face contorts with the ecstatic feeling of his tongue rolling up and down your sensitive nipple.
“Fuck, Lohen—” You grab a hold of his hair and he chuckles against you when he feels you pull. “That’s—ah, fuck—” Your torso jerks and he finally pulls away.
You help him get out his own garments and when he’s finally free of all sorts of fabric, you too, revel in the sight of his naked body shining beneath the spark of a lit-up fireplace. Your eyes trail down until they settle on his erection that’s patiently waiting for you and your touch.
“Come on, pretty girl. Touch me.” He asks of you and you bite down on your lips before leaning down to press a kiss on his lips while one of your hands makes its way to caress his length. You feel him jerk beneath you and your fingertips lay to catch a feeling of his erected dick.
He leans back to lay his eyes back on you. His chest heaves up and down, gasping for air while your hand is still busy feeling him down there. “Should I be on top? I mean, we don’t have any rubber here, pretty girl.”
You roll your eyes before sitting back up straight and putting both of your hands on his chest as you elevate yourself. “Just tell me to hop off.” You line yourself on his dick and when your slit touches his tip, you see him visibly shiver.
He chuckles defeatedly, “sure, but aren’t you on contraceptives or something?” You shake your head as an answer and Lohen pinches the flesh of your waist. “Gotta get you on ‘em now, then. Or buy rubbers. ‘Cause we are not doing this just this one time, pretty girl.”
You sink down onto his length and Lohen groans at the feeling of your gummy walls around him. Your slick covering his dick wet and you feel utterly complete when you’ve pushed all the way and you’re so full of him. It’s scandalous—the way you’re taking your time to adjust to his length and size, sitting still and relishing in the feeling of being so full with his dick all the way inside of you.
“You feel so good, [Name].” Lohen groans out, eyes closing when the pleasure comes caving in. “Like real good. Do I feel good?” He asks yet you don’t formulate any sort of answer inside of you because you’re overwhelmed with the feeling of his dick filling up every space inside of you.
You attempt to hop up and down and a moan leaves both of your lips at the same at the first movement. “Why? Are you going to make this a friendship with benefits kinda thing?” Your voice shakes when you ask him that, hips going up and down and back and forth until you find whatever feels best for you but then you realize it doesn’t matter because Lohen reaches a certain spot inside of you that he hits with no problem.
Lohen curses out when you finally bounce with ease on top of him. Both of his hands planted firmly on your waist while he bucks his hips upwards to hit even deeper. “The fuck?” Offendedly, he lets out a curse. “I’m going to take you on a proper date when we get back to Mondstadt, pretty girl.”
You roll your eyes back as you bounce relentlessly on top of him. “Lo—that feels so good—!” His words bounce back on the back of your head when realization settles in and the feeling of pleasure combines with confusion.
Realization settles in and your lips quiver. “What?” Your speed wavers yet Lohen keeps bucking his hips upwards, thrusting into you with a smirk on his lips.
He snickers, “what? You think I haven’t noticed? That you like me?” He looks deep into your eyes before he sits up, hips still going hard thrusting inwards to you and his dick hitting a certain spot that sends shivers down your spine and your legs tremble ever so slightly when you feel a knot slowly tightening.
You can’t think of anything to defend yourself. To deny it is something foolish because you can never hide secrets from him, not from Lohen. You laugh, whole-heartedly before putting your arms around his neck, keeping your hips stable before you start fastening your speed again. “Ah, so you’ve been—ngh—observing me real good to notice then?” You moan in between words.
Lohen chuckles before finally firmly planting his hands on your hips to usher you off him and cum spills out of him the same way yours do out of your pussy. He pumps himself a few times while snickering, “yeah, had to make sure I wasn’t imagining things. Besides, it’s hard not to pay attention to someone I like.”
He pulls you into another kiss—a fat one at that. His lips connect with yours, tongues swirling with one another as though you’re developing a habit with the way he’s rhythmically dancing with yours. You smile against the kiss as his words echo inside of your mind and the feeling of his arms wrap around your torso, pulling you impossibly closer.
“Let’s clean you up, baby.”
modern love is a cruel endeavor but fuck it whatever
i cannot for the life of me find any Hakon fanfiction so i wrote some myself.
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“Just entertain yourself while I try to fix the generators. Don’t touch anything. Got it?”
Frank told them the community was running out of supplies, and the surrounding areas were dry.
Sabine said that she knew somewhere untouched by any other survivors. She offered to go and retrieve the supplies.
Hakon said he would go along with her.
Now that they were here, it was clear she did not want to be here and didn’t want Hakon here either.
“Yes, ma’am.”
That’s how the man found himself in the woman’s bedroom. It was untouched for 15 years, like a time capsule. Looking around, he could see both the personality and the lack of personality in the room. The walls are stark white and only hold a handful of decorations, but the room holds many CDs, DVDs, and books. The CDs and DVDs intrigue him but are useless unless the generators work. So he makes his way to the bookshelf.
Looking through the bookshelf, he sees a variety of books. LSAT practice books, D.I.Y. books, law books, history books, and romance books. He would have never pegged Sabine to be the romantic type. He takes a book off the shelf titled “A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime” and opens it to a random page.
“It’s been three years, four months, two days, and a handful of hours since the first moment I set my eyes on her. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. The absolute bane of my existence.” He reads aloud from the book and then laughs to himself. The lines are cliche, but he can’t argue against them. They were romantic and something he probably would say himself.
Above the bookcase, he finds a dead plant. Peering around the rest of the room, he finds many dead plants. Most likely unwatered. Who would have stayed around to water them anyways? On top of the bookcase is an ornate tea set. Picking up the teapot and dusting it off, he realizes it is handmade and old. It would probably sell for a pretty penny. Juan would practically salivate over it. He would never tell Sabine about selling to Juan, though. That guy is her number one enemy. The stick up her ass.
Walking along the wall, he comes upon a dresser. On top of the dresser, he finds a music box. After cranking the knob on the back and opening the box up, hoping for music. Unfortunately, no music sings, and the ballerina remains stagnant. Inside the box, he finds only a plastic rhinestone choker and plastic diamond earrings. The type of jewelry competitive performers would wear back in the day. He then picks up a violin case and opens it. Inside sits a beautiful, untouched violin. It shines against the sunlight peeking through the window. He wonders if Sabine would play for him and if she is as good as she claims. Beside the violin is a picture of a girl and a dog. He picks up the photograph to get a better look. Upon inspection, he realizes it is a picture of a much younger Sabine and a dog. The dog looks to be an Australian Shepard. Sabine had the massive dog in her arms. They were both smiling at each other.
Hakon has never seen her smile like that. He smiles to himself and places the framed photo back onto the dresser. Walking away from the dresser, the man comes face-to-face with a large mirror that takes over almost an entire wall. It had been long since he’d seen his reflection so clearly, in broad daylight. He takes in how greasy his hair and skin look.
“My god, am I graying?” He asks himself as he steps closer to the mirror and ruffles his hair around.
He takes in the new scars on his face, neck, and hands. Some are faint and will probably disappear in a week or so. Others are deep, leaving an indent in his skin. One scar, in particular, is deeper than the rest. It goes from the top right of his forehead, through the eyebrow, past his eye, over the nose, and stops in the middle of his left cheek. Despite the lasting mark, he supposes he should be thanking Sabine. If not for her, it’d be a hell of a lot more than a scar.
Hakon was cornered between two skyscrapers by a pack of renegades. He had thought it was an easy enough job to handle alone. Obviously, he was very wrong. As the renegades approached him, they laughed and sneered in his face.
“No one to save you now, runner.”
Soon enough, Hakon felt the cold concrete hit his back. He could have and should have gone the other way, but no, he’s always looking for trouble. As he scolded himself, a renegade approached him with a knife. Hakon imagined that behind the mask, the man was smiling as he raised his blade. Hakon closed his eyes, ready to face his death. Only a fool like him would perish like this.
Yet the blade only scratched him. When he opened his eyes, in front of him, he found the guy dead on the ground. Looking up, he saw Sabine fighting off the other four.
“Are you going to keep staring at me like an idiot, or are you going to help me?”
Hakon chuckles to himself as he thinks back on the memory. Despite his gray hair and ugly scars, he must still have charisma if he’s lucky enough for a girl like Sabine to save him.
He moves to the other wall, gazing at all the items hanging upon it. While the trophies and medals are pretty shiny in the sun, Hakon’s eyes draw toward the other ornaments on the wall.
First, he finds the drawing of the dog. It must be the same dog from the framed photo on the dresser. Getting a closer look, he notices the message on the bottom.
“For my favorite sister. P.S. I miss you! And so does Clementine. Please come home soon! - Chrys”
The man chuckles to himself. He can’t imagine the 15-year-old Chrysanthemum he knows being so young. She couldn’t even spell her name! She must have been around 4 or 5. Despite the childlike innocence, it makes him sad as he remembers how young she was when it happened. Still, in spite of all the world’s hardships, Sabine’s sister was able to keep a bit of her childishness. Hakon’s eyes wander over to the family photo.
A childishness Sabine never seemed to have.
All the people in the photo seem to be emotionless. They were all flat-faced yet held the smallest air of contentment. After a closer inspection of the 15-year-old Sabine, Hakon decides that Sabine is and was nothing like her sister. She sat in front of her parents, knees together, back straight, and heads in her lap. Her lips were a flat line, slightly curved at the edges, and her eyes seemed sad.
Hakon decides to move on to the collage of photos.
When looking at the photos, a gust of déjà vu hits his face.
The collage contains four photos in total. The first photo was a group photo with three girls in a cab. Hakon recognized Sabine in the middle of the other two girls. The taxi cab and scene looked all too familiar. In the second photo, he realized why it was so familiar.
It was his taxi cab, the one he drove before all hell broke loose.
He is looking at a photo of his younger self with the three girls. As he stares at the picture with the seriousness of a detective, the day returns to him in broken fragments.
The girls had all hopped into his cab, giggling with each other. He was a bit weary of them, but Sabine claimed they had money and to just drive. Despite his weariness, he was bored, so he obliged. As he “drove” through the traffic in the city, he eavesdropped on the girls’ conversation and watched their theatrics. He would have been lying if he said it wasn’t entertaining. Sabine caught onto him and asked if he wanted in on the photos and fun. He should have said no and done his job, but he was never that kind of guy. He was young and looking for something fun to happen, so he said yes.
Sabine dragged him into the photo, smiling cheekily. She leaned over the console to take over his radio system to change the music. She told him he had shit music taste, which he scoffed at, but she was right.
Sabine also dragged him and the girls to a karaoke bar. At first, they had just ordered a few drinks and watched the other drunk barhoppers sing on the stage. Within 10 minutes of being at the bar, the girls found themselves on the stage, performing an America’s Got Talent-worthy performance of Wannabe by the Spice Girls. That’s when Hakon took the third photo with Sabine’s camera. After that, the girls all took turns performing solos, allowing the other bar-goers to squeeze in once in a while.
A couple more drinks in, Sabine convinced Hakon to sing with her. That’s where the fourth photo came from, courtesy of one of Sabine’s friends. He never learned their names. After his and Sabine’s first performance, the night got a little blurry.
Hakon is amazed that he remembers that much from almost 15 years ago. He is even more amazed that he’s known Sabine long before the fall. He thought he would have remembered a girl like her, but life gets busy. Extremely busy, according to the events of the last 15 years.
Static comes from his left, and he’s broken from his stunning trance. Looking over, he finds an old TV turned on. Sabine must have got the generators on. While the TV is on, Hakon doesn’t suppose there’s cable TV anymore. To delight, he does find a collection of DVDs and VHS tapes under the TV. He kneels to get a closer look at the collection. Most of the tapes seem to be performance videos, most likely of dances. Sabine had never talked about it, but judging by the trophies, medals, and dance equipment, Hakon could guess she used to be a competitive dancer. He was very familiar with those girls and their families, having to drive them around in his cab during competition season. None of the tapes interested him, but a CD labeled “My Final Bow: Video Diary” sure did. He isn’t normally one to go through people’s diaries, but he is willing to make an expectation for a closed-off girl like Sabine. Besides, a photo that falls out of the CD case tells him the video probably has to do with him. The photo is a blurry, candid picture of Sabine and Hakon. Her short arm stretched out to fit them both in the camera’s border as she leaned over to kiss his cheek. Hakon doesn’t remember that part of the night. He doubts Sabine does either. After one last glance at the photo, he puts the CD into the TV’s CD port.
The video was a simple collection of clips taken on the same night as the photos. It showed the girls racing toward the cab and jumping inside. They were giggling the whole time. The clip transitioned to the girls in a heated conversation about god knows what, but Hakon heard himself laughing in the background. The video then jumped late into the night. It showed various moments of the group’s karaoke performances. Sabine’s show to the song Circus by Britney Spears. Hakon and Sabine’s duet to Love Shack by The B-52’s. One of the other girl’s performances of Love Story by Taylor Swift. The rest of the video was a blur of the night, the liveliness of the filmers altering the video. It showed Sabine and the girls jumping around and laughing. Soon enough, the clips were coming to an end. Each clip showed Hakon dropping off the girls at their respective hotels. At each stop, Sabine would hug the girl with all her might and wave goodbye to them until they were out of the camera’s sight. Sabine was the last one to be dropped off. The final clip shows Sabine waving toward Hakon as he drives away. Then the video cuts to black.
“ I thought I told you not to touch anything.”
Sabine’s voice causes Hakon to jump from his seat on the ground. Behind him, Sabine stands leaning against the doorway. She crosses her arms, and her eyes look angry, but she has a small smile on her lips.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to watch the entire video with you.”
Hakon stares at her as he stands up. He looks past her, deep in thought, then turns to look at the TV and back at her.
“Do you remember any of that night?”
“I didn’t recognize the guy was you until now if that’s what you’re asking. You look a hell of a lot uglier now.” She smirks at him. “You’re a hell of a lot more annoying too.” He rolls his eyes.
Hakon has a million questions rolling through his head right now. What happened to her after that night? Who are the other girls? Does she remember anything from that night that he doesn’t? Why aren’t other photos of friends and adventures in her childhood bedroom? Despite his million questions, he knew Sabine wouldn’t answer them. Looking up at her, he sees her fiddling with the straps on her jacket. She was scared he would ask her questions. Try to pry into her personal life. Something she’s been clear about not wanting since the day she joined his group. He’d respect her wishes, but still…
“Why’d you keep this photo?” He questions as he picks up the photo off the ground.
It was unlike the Sabine he knows now to keep a photo like that. It was unlike her to take that photo or to kiss him in the first place. He imagines Sabine would gag at even the thought of getting close to him. He hopes his question will tell him a bit about her without directly asking her about her past.
Sabine approaches Hakon to take a look at the photo. After a glance, she scoffs, rolling her eyes before snatching the photo from his hand.
Still, he looks at her with probing eyes.
“…I think if things went differently after that night, I’d be a fun girl to be around. I’d be the life of the party.” Sabine contends as she stares around her old bedroom, reminiscing.
Certainly an odd answer from the Sabine he knows. He feels like that may just be the most backward, vulnerable answer he could have gotten from Sabine, but he’ll take it. Any glimpse into her as a person was a win to him.
“I think you’re pretty fun. I wouldn’t be here with you if I didn’t, would I?”
Sabine looks at him for a while, pondering his answers. Just when Hakon thinks he might get another genuine answer from the woman, she laughs while rolling her eyes and then turns her back on him.
“Come on. We need to clear the basement and the rest of the house now if we want to leave before nightfall. I don’t want to spend the night here.”
Hakon chuckles to himself as he follows her out the door. He’ll have to remember to grab the photos and violin before they leave. Though Sabine insisted her room be left alone, he feels these items are worth her ripping him a new one the next day.
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disclaimer: i know nothing about dying light 2 besides minimal research on the wiki and watching slimecicle play it. i know even less about dying light, having never watched, so there are probably a lot of inaccuracies. i just wrote this bc i thirst for hakon and i needed a muse for my creative writing assignment. also the format may be weird bc i copy and pasted it from my creative writing draft.
PREMISE . . . In which they remain completely oblivious to the feelings they've already developed for you, even as their actions grow increasingly affectionate, attentive, and unmistakably devoted, while everyone around them can see exactly what's happening long before they finally realize that they've fallen for you.
ꫂ᭪݁ STARRING . . . lohen, dottore, tartaglia, wanderer, varka, kinich
⚠︎ WARNING . . . › sfw!!, word count : 700-900 each character, brief mention of blood, oblivious pining, mild protective/possessive behavior, physical affection, teasing, fluff!
note . I LOVED WRITING FOR WANDERER SO MUCHHH argh my baby ;; and I was actually contemplating whether to write for dottore haha I hope he's not so ooc,,
── ( 𝒍. ) lohen wouldn't intially realize he was falling in love with you because he simply wouldn't have the framework for recognizing it. He understands caring for people, protecting them, helping them, and enjoying someone's company, but the idea of 'love' as something separate from all of that isn't something he's ever spent much time examining.
His behavior toward you would therefore seem completely natural to him. He'd find himself looking for you whenever he entered a room without consciously deciding to, his eyes automatically sweeping across the people there until they found you.
The change in him would be subtle but unmistakable to anyone who knew him well. Lohen could walk into a room with his usual mildly distant expression, not particularly unhappy or irritated, simply looking as though his thoughts were somewhere else, and then he'd spot you.
His eyes would immediately brighten, his entire expression warming into a genuine smile before he'd even realize he'd done it, and he'd naturally make his way toward you. He might interrupt whatever conversation he'd been having just to greet you, or wander over after finishing his current task and ask whether you wanted to train together.
Training would become one of his favorite ways of spending time with you, he'd invite you to spar, teach you a new technique, help correct your stance, or ask you to watch while he practiced. Sometimes he'd deliberately challenge you just to see how much you'd improved, and other times he'd patiently demonstrate the same movement over and over until you finally understood it.
If you were already sitting nearby, he'd simply gravitate toward you between exercises, talking about whatever happened to cross his mind. None of this would strike him as unusual. When someone remarked that he seemed particularly happy whenever you were around, he'd genuinely look confused, because from his perspective he was simply enjoying your company.
He wouldn't understand that the way his expression changed at the sight of you, the way he instinctively searched for you, and the way he kept choosing your company whenever he had free time were signs of something much deeper.
Varka would be the one to finally put the pieces together for him. He'd eventually notice the pattern that Lohen himself remained completely oblivious to, the way his expression transformed whenever you appeared, how often he found reasons to train with you, and how naturally he gravitated toward you whenever you were nearby.
Eventually, after seeing Lohen practically light up when you walked into the training grounds, Varka would casually point it out. "You know you're always looking for her, right?" Lohen would initially dismiss it, genuinely unable to see anything unusual about what he was doing.
But Varka would continue explaining that it wasn't merely that Lohen enjoyed your company and it would leave Lohen unusually quiet.
He'd start thinking back over everything and, for perhaps the first time, actually examine his own behavior. He'd remember entering rooms and searching for you before he'd even realized he was doing it, the way seeing you could immediately brighten his mood, how he'd started looking forward to training sessions specifically because you would be there, and how strangely empty those same sessions felt when you couldn't make it.
The realization wouldn't arrive with some sweeping romantic epiphany. It would be much simpler and much more bewildering, Varka had given him a word for something Lohen had already been doing for months.
He'd stare ahead for a long moment before quietly saying, "You're saying I like her?" Once Varka confirmed it, Lohen would look genuinely stunned, as though someone had just explained a rule of the world he'd somehow never been taught.
He'd probably glance toward wherever you happened to be and watch you for a few seconds, noticing the same warmth spreading across his expression that Varka had been talking about.
Then he'd slowly run a hand through his hair, half laughing at himself. "So that's what this feeling is?"
From then on, he wouldn't suddenly become dramatically romantic, he'd simply become much more aware of what he'd already been doing. He'd still ask you to train with him, still teach you techniques, still wander over whenever he spotted you, and still smile instinctively whenever you entered a room. The difference would be that now he finally understood why.
── ( 𝒅. ) dottore would be particularly difficult to catch off guard because he would initially refuse to acknowledge that there was anything unusual about the way he treated you. He would regard his attachment as something that could be observed, analyzed, and eventually explained through reason, and for a considerable amount of time, that explanation would be enough for him.
Before realizing he has 'feelings' for you, he'd already be making deliberate accommodations that he would never bother making for anyone else. He'd allow you into laboratories and restricted areas where other people would be turned away without a second thought, tolerate you interrupting his work even when you arrived at the most inconvenient possible moment, and remember seemingly insignificant details about you with an accuracy that bordered on excessive.
He'd know which food you preferred, which subjects made you lose interest, when you were likely to become tired, and exactly how much patience you had for his experiments before you started complaining.
If someone questioned why you were permitted such liberties, he'd dismiss the matter with some clinical explanation about your usefulness or his own preference for your company over that of his colleagues.
Even his time would begin quietly accommodating you. He might postpone an experiment or a meeting because you were expected to visit, leave his laboratory earlier than usual because you had asked him to accompany you somewhere, or arrange his schedule so that you would encounter him during the few hours he was otherwise difficult to reach.
None of this would register as affection to him. He would simply categorize you as an exception, and Dottore was perfectly comfortable with exceptions when they were his to make. The more telling signs would appear in moments when his usual indifference should have taken precedence.
If you were injured, he would immediately notice. If someone endangered you, his attention would sharpen with a frightening immediacy. He would remember every detail surrounding the incident afterward, not because the information was scientifically interesting, but because he couldn't tolerate the possibility of it happening again.
Yet even then, he'd find some rational explanation for his behavior. You were a liability he needed to account for. Your safety affected his work. Your absence would be inconvenient. Your presence was simply preferable. He would keep giving himself increasingly elaborate explanations because admitting that he cared would require him to acknowledge that there was something about you he could not reduce to utility.
The realization would finally come when his own behavior contradicted every explanation he'd constructed. Perhaps he'd be in the middle of an experiment when news reached him that you'd been seriously injured.
Under ordinary circumstances, Dottore would finish what he was doing before allowing himself to be distracted, whatever problem existed could wait until the immediate task was complete. This time, however, he'd simply stop. His hands would go still over the equipment, his eyes lingering on the unfinished experiment for several silent seconds before he set everything aside without calculating the consequences.
He wouldn't even realize how strange the decision was until he was already on his way to you. Once he knew you were safe, the real disturbance would begin. He'd return to his laboratory and find himself staring at the abandoned work, mentally reconstructing what had happened and realizing that, for once, he'd made a decision without weighing its usefulness.
The experiment had simply stopped mattering the moment he'd learned you were hurt. That conclusion would irritate him more than the emotion itself. He'd begin examining the evidence with almost clinical precision, every precaution he'd taken specifically for your safety, every time he'd changed his plans because of you, every detail about you he'd memorized without intending to, every moment when his attention had instinctively shifted toward you even while surrounded by something more important.
Eventually, the pattern would become impossible to dismiss. He'd lean back, stare into the silence of the laboratory. "How inconvenient."
There would be no dramatic panic afterward. Instead, he'd become intensely curious about the realization, almost treating himself as another specimen to be studied. He'd test his own reactions, deliberately placing himself in situations where he could determine whether his behavior toward you was truly different from his behavior toward everyone else.
The answer would remain frustratingly consistent. He would continue insisting that nothing had fundamentally changed, even while becoming more deliberate about keeping you safe and maintaining your place within his life.
He wouldn't suddenly become openly sentimental or affectionate, that would be entirely contrary to his nature. If anything, he'd become more controlled, more attentive, and maybe even more possessive of the time and space you occupied in his world.
The difference would simply be that he now understood the reason behind it. You were no longer merely an interesting exception, a useful presence, or a variable he happened to tolerate. You had become the one variable he could neither explain away nor bring himself to eliminate, and for someone like Dottore, realizing that there was one person capable of becoming genuinely irreplaceable would be more unsettling than admitting he had fallen in love.
── ( 𝒄. ) childe would realize it almost accidentally, long before he ever thought to call it love, he'd already started treating you as someone distinctly more important than everyone else around him.
He'd invite you along whenever he had the opportunity, whether it was something as simple as wandering through the city or something more exciting that gave him an excuse to show off, and he'd turn nearly everything into some kind of game or challenge just to keep you entertained.
He'd constantly look for ways to make you laugh, deliberately exaggerating stories from his missions or pretending that some completely ordinary situation was far more dramatic than it actually was. He'd also develop the habit of bringing things back for you whenever he traveled, not necessarily expensive gifts, but small souvenirs he'd happened to see and immediately think you'd enjoy.
At first, he'd barely notice how often this happened. He'd simply return from a journey, spot something that reminded him of you, and think, you'd like this, before buying it without a second thought.
The difference would become more obvious in the way he treated your presence. Childe was naturally sociable and energetic, comfortable throwing himself into conversations and making friends wherever he went, but with you, there would be an extra degree of attention that he didn't give anyone else.
He'd remember things you'd told him weeks ago, notice immediately when something was bothering you, and instinctively check that you were alright whenever a situation became dangerous. If you were present during one of his fights, his attention would periodically flick toward you even while he was occupied with his opponent, and if you'd been left behind somewhere safe, he'd find himself wondering what you were doing before he'd even finished his mission.
He'd never consider any of this particularly strange. To him, you were simply you, someone he liked having around, someone whose company made even boring days more enjoyable. It wouldn't occur to him that he'd started measuring certain experiences by whether he could share them with you.
He'd return from an 'adventure' wanting to tell you about it first, encounter something amusing and immediately think about how you'd react, or catch himself looking through a crowd simply because some part of him expected to find you there. The thought would remain so ordinary in his mind that he wouldn't question it until one particular day made the pattern impossible to ignore.
The realization would probably hit him after returning from a particularly dangerous assignment, when he'd come back expecting the usual noise and bustle surrounding his arrival. He'd barely have time to step into the area before his eyes began moving through the crowd, searching automatically. He wouldn't even realize he was doing it at first.
His gaze would pass over familiar faces, fellow Fatui members, merchants, strangers, anyone standing nearby, until it finally landed on you. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd already been imagining the way you'd greet him, probably with that warm smile he had apparently grown so accustomed to seeing after every assignment.
But the moment you spotted him, that smile wouldn't come. Instead, your expression would immediately change with concern when you noticed the blood staining his clothes and the signs of a rough fight still visible across him.
You'd hurry toward him, asking whether he was hurt, your hands instinctively checking his arms and shoulders for injuries before he could even properly greet you. Childe would initially try to laugh it off, assuring you that he'd be fine and that most of the blood wasn't even his, but somewhere between your worried questions and the way you kept looking him over, his teasing response would gradually fade.
He'd simply stare at you. The warmth spreading through his chest would catch him completely off guard, almost like a flutter beneath his ribs, and for once he wouldn't have an immediate joke to cover it with.
He'd watch your worried expression, the way your brows had drawn together, the way you were still checking him despite his insistence that he was alright, and something inside him would suddenly feel impossibly light.
You were worried about him. The thought would make him stare at you with an almost bewildered fondness, his usual grin slowly returning as he realized just how much he liked being the person you cared about this deeply.
He'd blink only when you finally caught him staring and asked why he was looking at you like that. For a moment, he'd simply smile, almost dazed by the realization that had settled so naturally into place.
Then he'd laugh under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck as everything he'd previously dismissed began connecting at once, all the times he'd searched for you first after returning from an assignment, every souvenir he'd picked up because it reminded him of you, every story he'd wanted to tell you before anyone else, every excuse he'd invented to spend another afternoon together, and every time he'd found himself wondering whether you were safe while he was away.
It suddenly made perfect sense.
"Ah." The word would escape quietly before his smile widened. "How'd I not realize this sooner?" He'd probably find the whole realization almost amusing, especially after realizing how long he'd apparently been oblivious.
Yet rather than pulling away from the feeling, he'd simply let himself enjoy it, looking at you with that same soft, fascinated expression while you continued fussing over his injuries.
── ( 𝒘. ) wanderer would resist the realization longer than almost anyone because the very idea of being emotionally attached to someone would irritate him before he ever allowed himself to accept it. Long before he understood what was happening, you would already have become one of the few people capable of bringing out a warmth in him that he himself barely recognized.
It would almost feel like some forgotten part of him had resurfaced whenever he was with you, something softer and strangely content that he would immediately try to bury beneath his usual indifference. You could invite him somewhere as simple as wandering through the city, sitting somewhere quiet, or accompanying you while you talked about something that interested you, and his first response would almost always sound annoyed.
"Do you ever get tired of dragging me around?" Yet he'd still go. He'd complain about the destination, complain about how long you'd been talking, complain when you got distracted by something along the way, but he would never actually leave.
In reality, he'd be paying close attention to everything you said. He'd remember the details of your stories, ask questions when something genuinely caught his interest, and occasionally offer his own opinion before pretending he hadn't been listening that closely.
If you noticed how engaged he was and smiled because he was clearly enjoying himself, he'd immediately become defensive. "What? Don't look at me like that. I'm only listening because you won't stop talking." But he'd remain beside you anyway, sometimes so close that your shoulders nearly brushed, perfectly content to let you fill the silence.
He would especially enjoy the moments when you became animated about something you loved. He'd watch you talk, occasionally interrupting with a dry remark or challenging something you said simply to keep the conversation going, and then act irritated whenever you pointed out that he was clearly enjoying himself.
If you suggested doing something together again another day, he'd roll his eyes and pretend to consider it a nuisance. But he'd remember the suggestion perfectly and, when the day came, would somehow already be waiting for you.
His affection would also begin showing itself through physical closeness in ways that would be almost shocking compared to how he treated everyone else. Wanderer generally wouldn't tolerate unnecessary touching, but with you, the rules would quietly change.
If you were walking too slowly and he wanted you to follow him, he'd simply reach down and take your hand, tugging you along without even thinking about it. If you tried teasing him about it, he'd immediately look away and mutter that it was faster than waiting for you.
He might catch your hand again when crossing a crowded street, pull you closer when he wanted your attention, or casually keep hold of your wrist while leading you somewhere, all while behaving as though none of it were remotely significant. He wouldn't be affectionate in an openly sentimental way, instead, he'd simply become accustomed to having you within reach.
Sitting beside you would feel natural. Walking with your hand in his would feel natural. Listening to you talk for hours would feel natural. And the fact that he was genuinely happy during those moments would be something he stubbornly refused to examine.
The realization would therefore hit him not simply because he protected you, but because he would eventually recognize what being around you did to him. Perhaps you'd invited him somewhere he had initially called boring, only for the two of you to spend hours together talking about whatever happened to come to mind.
At some point, you'd laugh at something he said, and he'd catch himself smiling before immediately trying to hide it. Or perhaps you'd reach for his hand without thinking and he'd instinctively let you take it, realizing only afterward that he hadn't pulled away. Instead, he'd tightened his fingers around yours.
That would make him pause.
He'd look down at your joined hands, then at you, and something about the quiet familiarity of it would feel strangely profound.
He'd remember how often he'd allowed himself to enjoy these moments despite pretending otherwise, how quickly his mood improved when you appeared, how he'd started looking forward to your conversations, and how your absence left a peculiar emptiness that he would never have admitted existed. Most importantly, he'd realize that you brought out a version of him he had almost forgotten existed.
Around you, he could be irritated without being cruel, quiet without being distant, playful without feeling foolish, and genuinely happy without having to explain why. The thought would bother him more than he'd like.
"No." He'd immediately reject whatever conclusion had begun forming, looking away as though the realization itself were an insult. But once he started noticing it, he wouldn't be able to stop.
Eventually, he'd click his tongue, fold his arms, and mutter bitterly to himself, "You've got to be kidding me."
The realization would make him defensive, but it wouldn't make him pull away. If anything, he'd become even more attached while pretending otherwise.
── ( 𝒗. ) varka would probably be one of the last people to realize it because, for months, he'd have absolutely no reason to suspect that what he felt for you was anything beyond genuine fondness. He was naturally warm, affectionate, and generous with the people he cared about, so none of his behavior toward you would initially strike him as unusual.
The real problem would be that he simply talks about you constantly. You'd become an almost ridiculous fixture in his conversations, to the point that the Knights would eventually know far more about you than they ever intended to.
Someone could mention a meal they had recently eaten and Varka would immediately remember something you'd once said about that particular dish. He'd return from an expedition with some strange object he'd found along the way and immediately start telling everyone how you'd probably love it, or how you would have laughed at something he'd seen, or how he wished you'd been there to see a particularly beautiful view.
Even when he was hundreds of miles away, you'd somehow find your way into his thoughts. He'd be walking through unfamiliar territory and suddenly wonder what you were doing back in Mondstadt, whether you'd eaten yet, whether you'd enjoyed the weather that day, or whether you'd have liked the place he was currently standing in.
He'd talk about you so naturally that he wouldn't even realize how often your name came up. "She'd love this place," he'd remark while looking over some distant landscape, only to continue talking about you for another ten minutes without noticing he'd completely changed the subject.
The Knights would eventually exchange knowing looks whenever it happened. Varka, meanwhile, would remain oblivious.
If someone teased him about it, he'd simply laugh. "What? I'm allowed to talk about someone I like," (the other knights would be frustrated how easily he's throwing around those three words).
He'd insist that he was merely fond of your company, yet somehow another story about you would inevitably follow.
His affection would be just as obvious when you were actually nearby. At gatherings, he'd naturally keep you within reach, throwing an arm around your shoulders while talking to someone else or casually drawing you closer whenever the crowd became too dense.
If he noticed you becoming overwhelmed or uncomfortable, he'd quietly shift the conversation so you could participate, introduce you to someone you hadn't met, make sure there was a seat available for you, or bring you something to eat before you ever thought to ask.
He'd notice whether you were getting tired, whether the room was too cold, whether you had been standing for too long, and somehow solve each little problem without making it obvious that he'd been paying attention. None of it would feel particularly romantic to him. He'd simply be taking care of you in the same easy, instinctive way he took care of people he considered important.
Once someone finally pointed out just how often he talked about you, however, Varka would actually stop and think about it. He'd initially laugh, perhaps insisting that everyone was exaggerating, until someone began listing examples.
Varka would gradually fall quiet as he realized they were right. He'd think back to all those expeditions where something beautiful had caught his eye and his first thought had been that you should see it, all the meals where he'd instinctively remembered which portion you'd prefer, and all the gatherings where he'd automatically checked whether you were comfortable before settling himself down.
He'd realize that even when you weren't physically there, some part of his mind was constantly accounting for you. The thought would be almost absurdly simple once he finally saw it. He wouldn't merely enjoy your company, you had become part of the way he experienced the world.
Everything reminded him of you because, somewhere along the way, he'd started wanting you involved in everything he experienced.
Varka would stare into the distance for a moment before slowly rubbing his chin. "Huh." Then, as the realization finally settled, a deep laugh would escape him. "Well, I'll be damned." He'd find the whole thing more amusing than embarrassing, especially when he realized how long everyone else had probably known.
After that, his behavior wouldn't become dramatically different because he'd already been treating you with affection for months.
── ( 𝒌. ) kinich would take much longer to recognize it simply because he wouldn't spend much time examining his own emotions in the first place. Before realizing he was in love with you, he'd already be making countless small adjustments around you without ever thinking of them as affection.
He'd wait for you before leaving somewhere even when there was no practical reason to do so, automatically slow his pace when you fell behind, remember exactly how you preferred to train, and quietly step in whenever you struggled with something without making a point of announcing that he'd noticed.
If you were tired, he'd alter the day's plans without complaint. If you were carrying something awkward, he'd simply take it from you. If you were struggling with a technique, he'd demonstrate it again and correct your stance with the same patient precision he used when teaching anyone else, except he'd somehow always have more time for you.
His version of quality time would be particularly practical and understated, he'd ask you to accompany him on commissions, invite you to train with him, teach you techniques he'd learned, spar with you when you wanted to improve, or let you sit nearby while he prepared his equipment.
He wouldn't need constant conversation to enjoy having you there. Your presence itself would become something he naturally accounted for. Other people would begin noticing long before Kinich did. Mualani, especially, would find it amusing how easily you seemed to slip past the distance Kinich normally maintained with people, while Kachina would notice the quieter details, how he always seemed to know where you were, how he waited for you without mentioning it, and how naturally you could stand beside him without him ever seeming bothered by your proximity.
Kinich wasn't someone who allowed just anyone to become that close to him, which made your place beside him increasingly obvious to everyone watching. He might normally keep conversations brief or prefer doing things alone, yet with you, he'd tolerate you sitting beside him for hours, answer your questions, listen when you talked, and occasionally even start conversations himself.
His acts of service would be just as subtle. He'd check your equipment before a dangerous journey, make sure you had enough supplies, adjust plans if he knew a route would be too difficult for you, or silently position himself on the side closest to whatever posed the greater danger.
He wouldn't call any of it protective. It was simply efficient. At least, that's what he'd tell himself. Even his protectiveness around other people would become increasingly obvious. If someone began acting strangely toward you, standing too close, speaking to you in a way he didn't like, or making you visibly uncomfortable, Kinich's attention would immediately shift.
He wouldn't necessarily confront them outright. Instead, he'd quietly move closer, place himself between you and the other person under some perfectly reasonable excuse, or simply call your name and redirect your attention elsewhere. His expression would remain calm, his voice level, but there would be a subtle firmness to his presence that made it clear he was paying attention.
If Mualani happened to notice, she'd probably find the whole thing hilarious because Kinich would insist he was merely being cautious. "You don't usually do that!" she'd point out.
Kinich would simply look at her and dismiss what she said.
The realization would probably come from Ajaw after he'd spent far too long watching all of this happen. Ajaw would eventually become unbearable about it, loudly pointing out every time Kinich changed his plans because you were involved, every time he automatically searched for you in a crowd, and every time he positioned himself nearby when someone made you uncomfortable.
Kinich would ignore him at first, insisting there was nothing unusual about it, but eventually even he would start thinking about the pattern.
He'd eventually pause in the middle of whatever he was doing, staring ahead for several seconds as all those little observations finally connected. "So that's what this is."
While Ajaw loudly screamed at the back of his head, "THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL YOU!!"
There wouldn't be much outward panic, Kinich would simply become unusually quiet, processing the realization with the same patience he applied to everything else. The next time you appeared, however, the difference would be almost imperceptible. His eyes would follow you a little longer, his expression would soften when you approached, and when you sat beside him, he wouldn't merely make room, he'd shift closer without thinking.
Ajaw would immediately notice and start laughing, while Mualani and Kachina would probably exchange knowing looks because, to everyone else, the answer had been obvious for quite some time.
warning(s) -> fluff, secret nighttime visits, teasing, romantic tension, close proximity, oblivious lohen, amused varka, mild embarrassment | wordcount. 1.2k | notes. HEY GUYS IM FINALLY BACK TEEHEE :3 enjoy this semi-long fic which is from my old account which took too long to re-edit. art credits
lohen makes a habit of sneaking into your room through the window, insisting it's the easiest way to see you. when varka catches him mid-climb, neither of you is prepared for his reaction.
the first time lohen shows up at your window, you almost scream.
it’s late—far too late for visitors—and the room is lit only by a dim lamp and the soft glow of the moon slipping through the curtains. you’re halfway through getting ready for bed when you hear it:
a quiet tap.
you freeze.
another one, more deliberate this time.
your heart starts pounding as you slowly turn toward the window.
“…no way,” you whisper.
the tapping comes again.
you inch closer, hesitating before pulling the curtain back just slightly—
and there he is.
lohen is balanced on the narrow ledge like it’s nothing, one hand braced against the wall, the other raised mid-knock. his expression is completely calm, like this is a normal, reasonable thing to be doing at this hour.
you stare at him and he stares back.
“open it,” he says, voice muffled by the window between you two.
you blink rapidly. “are you insane?!”
“possibly,” he replies, unfazed. “it depends on how long you keep me out here.”
your stomach drops as you glance down instinctively. you don’t live in a penthouse or anything, but your room is still about 6 stories high
“…you climbed up here.”
“yes.” he says it like it required no effort at all.
you hesitate for another second before quickly unlocking the window and pushing it open just enough for him to slip through.
the moment his feet hit your floor, you shut it again and pull the curtains tight.
“what are you doing here?” you whisper harshly, turning back to him. “what if someone saw you?!”
“no one did.”
he doesn’t sound worried in the slightest.
if anything, he sounds mildly curious about why you are.
you run a hand through your hair, trying to steady your breathing. “that’s not the point, lohen. you can’t just climb into my room in the middle of the night!”
he watches you for a moment, then tilts his head slightly.
“but you didn’t say you didn’t want me here.”
your face heats instantly.
“that’s- that’s not what i meant.”
he steps closer, enough to close the space between you.
“then what did you mean?”
your words catch in your throat.
being this close to him, in your room, at night—it feels different. quieter. more dangerous, somehow, like the secrecy itself is pressing in around you.
“we could get caught,” you manage.
“we won’t.” he says it simply, like it’s already decided.
your heart is still racing. “you don’t know that-”
“i do.”
he lifts a hand, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face without hesitation. the familiarity of the gesture makes your breath hitch.
“i checked.”
“you… checked?”
“yes.” he doesn’t elaborate, and you don’t bother trying to make him explain further.
you stare at him, your expression somewhere between disbelief and something softer you don’t want to name.
“you’re unbelievable.”
“you still opened the window.”
your face burns again, and you look away immediately. “i panicked.”
“you recognized me.” he says it quietly, like that’s the important part.
you don’t respond. you don’t need to.
lohen studies your expression for a moment before his gaze softens just slightly.
“i missed you.”
the words are simple, but in the stillness of your room, they feel heavier than they should.
you glance back at him, your chest tightening. “you saw me this morning.”
“that was different.” he steps closer again, stopping just short of touching you. “i couldn’t talk to you like this.”
your heart skips. “like what?”
his gaze flicks briefly to the door, then back to you.
“without pretending like we’re nothing.”
the room feels smaller, quieter.
you swallow. “you’re still going to get us caught.”
“then tell me to leave.” he says it immediately. no hesitation, no teasing.
just a calm offer.
you open your mouth and hesitate.
lohen watches you carefully. “i thought so.”
your face heats as he lets out the faintest breath of something that almost sounds like amusement.
“just-” you whisper, stepping closer and grabbing his sleeve instinctively, “keep your voice down.”
he stills at the contact. then looks down at your hand and then back at you.
“you’re the one pulling me closer.”
you immediately let go like you’ve been burned. “i wasn’t- i just-”
he moves this time, closing the distance properly, yet he’s still not touching you.
just close enough that you feel it again—that quiet, charged space between you that only exists when no one else is around.
“if you’re worried about being caught,” he murmurs, voice softer now, “you shouldn’t do things like that.”
your breath catches.
“you came into my room,” you whisper back. “you don’t get to lecture me.”
“that’s fair.”
he doesn’t argue.
which somehow throws you off more.
there’s a pause. a quiet one.
then—
“will you let me stay?”
your heart stumbles.
“for a little while,” he adds, almost as an afterthought. like it matters less than the question itself.
you glance toward the door. then the window. then back at him.
this is a bad idea.
a terrible one.
you already know that.
“just for a bit,” you mutter.
lohen’s expression softens—not dramatically, not obviously, but enough that you notice.
“that’s enough.”
and when he leans just slightly closer, lowering his voice even further—like the world outside your room doesn’t exist— you realize you’d probably open that window every time.
---
varka wasn’t supposed to be back in mondstadt yet.
that’s what you keep telling yourself later.
that if he had stuck to his expedition schedule, none of this would’ve happened.
but unfortunately, varka has never been particularly predictable.
it’s late, quiet.
the kind of quiet where even the knights on patrol have grown sparse, their footsteps distant and fading.
lohen moves easily along the outer wall, fingers finding holds in stone like he’s done this a hundred times before.
(which he has.)
his movements are controlled, silent, precise—
until a voice cuts through the dark.
“interesting.”
lohen stops instantly. slowly, he looks down.
and there, standing a short distance away with his arms crossed and a very obvious grin, is varka.
watching him.
“carry on,” varka says casually, like he’s commenting on the weather. “don’t mind me.”
there’s a pause.
lohen doesn’t move. “…you’re blocking the path,” he says calmly.
varka raises a brow. “am i?”
he very much isn’t.
lohen looks at him for another second before continuing his climb like nothing happened.
varka watches, amused.
“you know,” he calls out, not even trying to be quiet, “most people use doors.”
lohen reaches your window, taps once, and waits.
“this is more efficient,” he replies.
varka laughs under his breath. “is that what we’re calling it?”
the window opens slightly.
you peek out and immediately freeze when you see both of them. “…oh no.”
lohen slips inside before you can say anything else.
you stare down at varka, horrified. “you didn’t see anything.”
varka looks up at you, smiling far too knowingly.
“of course not.” a beat. “…but i did see someone scaling a building in the middle of the night to visit a certain knight’s room.”
you slam the window shut immediately.
inside, you turn to lohen, panicking. “he saw you-”
“yes.” he doesn’t seem concerned at all.
“and you’re not worried?!”
lohen considers that for a moment.
“he didn’t stop me.”
you stare at him.
“that’s your takeaway?!”
lohen nods slightly, completely serious.
and outside, somewhere below, you can still faintly hear varka laughing.
taglist: @jiaennie @reikamasama | reply or send an ask to be added!
SUMMARY: One sleepless night, you couldn’t get Sylus off of your mind. The only problem is, Sylus belongs to MC, your best friend.
SONG INSPO: Girl’s Girl by Zara Larson
WARNINGS: Friend Betrayal (MC and Sylus aren’t an item here)
Having a crush isn’t a crime…right?
It hit you the other night, sleepless, you couldn’t get the thought of Sylus off of your mind.
MC introduced you a few months back, mostly because she wanted your approval…and boy, did you approve.
He was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. Sylus was intimidating, yes, but he was a sweetheart with a hard exterior. Just your type, unfortunately.
He doted on MC, protected her, and it was clear that he cared deeply for her. So why the hell were you thinking of him like this?
What you would do to live a day in her shoes… and wake up next to him.
You couldn’t help the way your heart raced at the mere thought of him, not to mention how loud it was when he was near.
He’d never think of you that way. That was the only thing that kept you grounded…this crush would pass, and you’d move on.
If only it were that easy…
You’ve known MC since you were 12, and she was 10, so you were the person people came to for advice on gifts.
Sylus knew that. That’s why he’d been texting you recently, and you’re sure that’s why he’s been on your mind so much.
You shouldn’t have sent it, temptation was getting to you. You should be cautious, but you were playing with fire instead.
“Can’t sleep…”
The text read, and you hadn’t expected Sylus to respond, why would he? There wasn’t anything he could do to help, right?
“Was this meant for me?”
He replied.
Your stomach dropped.
For a second, you just stared at the screen in horror, thumb hovering over the keyboard while your mind scrambled for an excuse. You could still play it off. Pretend it was an accident. Say you meant to text MC instead.
But before you could type anything, another message appeared.
“Or are you thinking about something?”
Your pulse throbbed in your ears. You hated how easily he got under your skin. You inhaled sharply and finally replied.
“Wrong chat. Sorry.”
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
“Mhm.”
That one little response shouldn’t have affected you the way it did.
Still, you found yourself clutching your phone tighter beneath the blankets, staring at the conversation like it might magically disappear.
Then:
“Can’t sleep either.”
Your heart skipped. This was dangerous territory.
You knew it.
Sylus wasn’t openly flirtatious. That would’ve been easier to deal with, honestly. Easier to dismiss. But everything about him felt intentional instead. The prolonged eye contact. The subtle teasing. The way his voice softened when he spoke to you alone.
It blurred lines you desperately needed to keep clear.
“You should probably sleep,” you typed carefully.
“So should you.”
A pause.
Then:
“What’s keeping you awake?”
You swallowed hard.
You.
The thought nearly made you throw your phone across the room. Instead, you forced yourself to answer normally.
“Nothing important.”
Another pause.
“You always lie when you’re uncomfortable?”
Your face burned instantly. You rolled onto your back with a groan, dragging a pillow over your face. Why was he like this? Why did every conversation with him feel like he was peeling layers off of you without even trying?
“I am not uncomfortable.”
“Liar again.”
You bit your lip hard to stop yourself from smiling. That was the problem. You liked talking to him. Too much.
Eventually the conversation drifted into safer territory somehow…music, insomnia, the terrible takeout place near your apartment that MC inexplicably loved. Simple things. Innocent things. But even then, it still felt intimate.
By the time you finally fell asleep, your phone was still warm in your hand.
After that night, Sylus texted you more often.
At first, it was practical. Questions about gifts for MC. What flowers she’d like. Whether she’d mentioned a necklace while shopping.
But then the conversations started stretching longer.
He’d send you pictures of random things that reminded him of inside jokes you’d made. You’d complain about work and he’d respond with dry humor that always made you laugh despite yourself.
It was harmless
At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.
Until it wasn’t.
One evening, MC invited you over for dinner. You almost said no.
The crush had become unbearable lately, festering beneath your ribs every time Sylus looked at you for too long. You needed distance. Space. Anything.
But MC sounded excited, so you agreed.
Which was how you ended up sitting at their kitchen counter watching Sylus cook while trying not to stare.
He looked unfair tonight. Dark sleeves rolled to his forearms. Silver rings catching dim kitchen light. His calm, composed expression always made him look untouchable.
You were so distracted that you barely noticed him speaking until MC nudged your shoulder.
“Hm?”
“I said you’re zoning out,” she laughed.
“Oh. Sorry.”
Sylus glanced over his shoulder briefly, “Tired?”
Your chest tightened at the familiar question. You nodded quickly. “Couldn’t sleep.”
His gaze lingered for half a second too long, “You should fix that.”
MC snorted. “He says that like he sleeps.” Sylus ignored her.
You looked away first. Coward.
The entire dinner felt like torture after that. Not because Sylus did anything inappropriate. Because he didn’t. He acted normal. Calm. Collected.
Meanwhile you were hyperaware of everything. The way he rested a hand on MC’s waist absentmindedly when passing behind her. The way she leaned into him automatically. The quiet domestic intimacy between them.
Jealousy was an ugly thing. And god, it looked hideous on you. Because MC trusted you completely.
She smiled at you across the table while talking about future plans, while Sylus listened with that soft expression he only seemed to wear around her.
You should’ve been happy for her. Instead, your chest ached. The guilt nearly swallowed you whole.
After dinner, MC disappeared upstairs to take a work call, leaving you alone in the kitchen with Sylus.
Instant tension.
You stood immediately. “I should go.”
“You just got here.”
You grabbed your bag without meeting his eyes. “It’s late.”
He watched you quietly for a moment.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
Your fingers tightened around the strap. “I haven’t.”
“You take longer to answer texts now.”
Heat flooded your face. Of course he noticed.
Sylus moved closer slowly, not enough to corner you, just enough to make your pulse stutter.
“Did I do something?” The question sounded genuine. That somehow made it worse.
“No.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
You laughed softly, but there wasn’t any humor in it. “You really don’t know?”
Silence.
Then his expression shifted slightly.
Understanding.
Dangerous, devastating understanding.
Your stomach twisted. “Sylus…”
“You look at me differently now.” There it was.
The thing both of you had been dancing around for weeks. You felt exposed suddenly. Humiliated.
“You should stop noticing things like that.”
His eyes held yours steadily.
“Can you?”
Your breath caught. No. That was the horrible part. You couldn’t. You couldn’t stop noticing him either. The scar near his throat. The rare moments he smiled fully. The way his voice dropped lower when he spoke only to you.
You stepped back immediately. “This can’t happen.” Nothing had happened. Not technically. But it felt dangerously close to becoming something.
Sylus was quiet for a long moment. Then he said softly “I know.”
That hurt more than denial would’ve. Because there was no confusion in his expression. No rejection either. Just restraint. And maybe that was worse.
You shook your head quickly, heart hammering violently. “I love her,” you began.
His gaze softened instantly. “I know you do.”
“No, I mean-”
“I know what you mean.”
Tears burned unexpectedly behind your eyes. Because MC wasn’t just some casual friend. She was family. Your oldest friend.
The person who stayed on the phone with you through heartbreaks and funerals and every terrible thing life threw at you. And here you were wanting someone she loved.
Someone who, terrifyingly enough, might’ve wanted you too. You hated yourself for it.
“I don’t want to ruin this,” you whispered. Sylus looked away briefly then back at you.
“You think I do?”
Your chest tightened painfully. For a second neither of you moved. The tension between you felt alive now. Breathing. Impossible to ignore.
Then footsteps sounded upstairs. Reality slammed back into place instantly. You stepped away from him so quickly it almost hurt.
MC’s voice drifted closer. You grabbed your coat. “I should go.”
Sylus didn’t stop you this time. But as you walked past him, he spoke quietly enough that only you could hear.
“You should probably stop texting me at two in the morning.”
Your face burned. Then…
“Or I might start looking forward to it…”
You left before he could see how badly that affected you.
After that, you did what you were supposed to do. You created distance.
You stopped answering Sylus’s late-night texts unless they were important. You stopped lingering after group outings. When MC invited you over, you made excuses more often than not.
It hurt. Embarrassingly so.
But eventually, things started changing on their own. Mostly because MC had been spending more and more time with Zayne lately.
At first, you didn’t think much of it. Zayne had always hovered around her orbit in one way or another, calm and reliable in a way that grounded her. But then came the missed dinners with Sylus. The canceled plans. The subtle shift in her voice whenever she talked about Zayne.
And Sylus noticed too. You could tell. Not because he complained…he never would.
He became quiet. Sharper around the edges.
You saw it one evening when the group met for drinks. MC had left early after getting a call from Zayne, apologizing quickly before rushing out the door.
Sylus had watched her leave with that unreadable expression of his. Then his eyes shifted to you across the table. And stayed there.
You looked away immediately. Big mistake.
Because after that, it got harder for him to pretend too.
The texts started again. Short at first.
“You alive?”
“You’re avoiding everyone.”
Then longer. One night he sent:
“MC stayed with Zayne again.”
You stared at the message for a long time. You knew what he was doing. Opening a door. Or trying to…
And you hated yourself for how quickly you stepped through it.
“You okay?”
The typing bubble appeared immediately.
“Yes and no.”
Your chest tightened. You shouldn’t care this much. But you did. Always did.
The conversations became dangerous after that. Not overtly flirtatious. Worse. Intimate.
Sylus started talking to you in ways he never had before. About exhaustion. About loneliness. About how quiet his place felt lately. And you listened every single time.
Because despite everything, you understood him. Maybe too well.
Tonight was no different.
You lay awake in bed, phone glowing dimly against your face as rain tapped softly against your apartment windows.
2:13 AM.
Sylus: “You’re awake.”
You frowned immediately.
“How do you know?”
Three dots.
Then:
“Your bedroom light is on.”
Your entire body froze. Slowly, you sat upright in bed. What? Before you could even process the message, your phone buzzed again.
“Look outside.”
Your heart nearly stopped. You scrambled out of bed so quickly you almost tripped, rushing toward the front window. Pulling the curtain aside revealed a familiar black car parked across the street. And Sylus leaning against it. Dark coat. Hands in his pockets. Looking directly up at your apartment.
You should not let him in. Every rational thought in your body screamed that at you. Instead, five minutes later, you were opening your apartment door with trembling hands.
Sylus stood there looking unfairly good for two in the morning. Rain dampened the edges of his hair slightly.
His eyes dragged over you once, an oversized sleep shirt, bare legs, nervous expression, and something in his gaze darkened immediately.
“You’re here,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.
One corner of his mouth twitched faintly. “You opened the door.”
God. You stepped aside silently, letting him in. The apartment suddenly felt too small with him inside it.
Sylus glanced around once before settling his attention back onto you fully. Neither of you spoke at first.
The tension was palpable. Thick enough to choke on. Finally, you crossed your arms tightly. “What are you doing here?”
He looked at you for a long moment before answering. “I was driving.”
“Bullshit.”
A quiet exhale left him that almost sounded like amusement. “You always know when I’m lying?”
“Only when it’s obvious.” Silence stretched again after that. Then Sylus stepped closer. Just close enough that your breathing became difficult.
“I knew you’d be awake.” He said. Your stomach twisted.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you?”
His eyes held yours steadily. Because of you. He didn’t say it. He didn’t need to. Your chest ached violently.
“You and MC-” You began.
“We were never together.”
You blinked slowly. Sylus watched your expression carefully.
“We care about each other,” he continued quietly. “But not like that.”
Your heartbeat stumbled. “And Zayne?”
A tiny shrug. “I think she figured out who she actually wanted.”
You looked down immediately, overwhelmed by the sudden flood of emotions crashing through you. Relief. Guilt. Hope.
Dangerous, reckless hope.
Sylus stepped closer again. This time close enough that you could feel his warmth.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” His voice had gone softer. Lower.
You swallowed hard. “I was trying to do the right thing.”
“And now?”
You looked up at him finally. Big mistake. Because he was already staring at your mouth. Your pulse spiked instantly.
“Sylus…”
“You know what’s cruel?” he murmured. You couldn’t think straight enough to answer.
“I spent months thinking you hated me.”
Your eyes widened slightly. “What?”
His jaw tightened faintly. “You’d look at me like you wanted to run every time I got close.”
Because if I didn’t run, I would’ve kissed you. The thought flashed through your head too late.
Sylus must’ve seen something on your face because his expression shifted instantly. Sharper. Hungrier. The air between you snapped tight.
“You have no idea,” he said quietly, “how hard it was not to cross lines with you.”
Your breath caught painfully. “Sylus…”
He lifted a hand slowly. Carefully. Like he was giving you time to stop him. His fingers brushed against your jaw. The contact nearly destroyed you.
“You should tell me to leave.” He said. You knew that. You absolutely knew that. Instead, your body betrayed you completely, leaning into his touch without permission.
Sylus exhaled softly at the movement. That sound alone made your knees weak.
“I think about you constantly,” he admitted quietly. “It’s getting exhausting.”
Your heart nearly burst. All those nights spent convincing yourself it was one-sided suddenly felt ridiculous.
You looked up at him helplessly. “This is a bad idea.”
“Probably.” Neither of you moved away.
Rain continued tapping softly against the windows. The city outside had gone quiet. And Sylus was looking at you like he’d already lost this fight weeks ago.
“You gonna keep staring at me like that?” you whispered shakily. His thumb brushed lightly across your cheek.
“You gonna keep looking at me like you want me to kiss you?”
That did it. Every ounce of restraint you’d been clinging to finally snapped.
You grabbed the front of his coat and kissed him first. Sylus made a rough sound against your mouth like he’d been waiting for that.
Then his hands were suddenly on you. One at your waist. The other cradling your jaw carefully as he kissed you back hard enough to steal the air from your lungs.
God. It was worse than you’d imagined.
Better.
Sylus kissed like he did everything else…controlled at first, until the restraint cracked apart. And you could feel it happening.
Months of tension. Late-night conversations. Lingering looks. All of it poured into the kiss at once.
You stumbled backward slightly, and Sylus followed immediately without breaking away from you for more than a second.
His forehead pressed against yours as both of you struggled to breathe.
“You have no idea,” he murmured roughly, “how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
Your entire body burned. You laughed shakily despite yourself. “I think I do.”
That rare, real smile appeared briefly on his face.
umemiya x medic!reader (no gender is specified, I think)
wc: 3.6k (not proofread but i never proofread anyway)
note: finally back with a oneshot. i wanna watch windbreaker s2 so bad but idk where to watch it huhu. enjoy the oneshot! <33
The three times Sakura has seen you take care of Umemiya, and the one time he returned the favor.
Sakura was one of the densest people in Bofurin. His friends constantly teased him of that fact, and Sakura always denied their assumptions and borderline insults towards his emotional intellect.
His one and only proof that he is not as dense as others say he is was the thing that he can see what others can't for some reason: the chemistry between Bofurin's leader and the resident medic.
He normally doesn't dabble in other people's personal lives, especially their love lives, but this one was just staring at him in the face to the point where he couldn't stop himself from asking his friends about it.
"They don't seem like they like each other," Nirei said, shaking his head when Sakura brought up the idea while they were in Kotoha's café.
"I agree," Suo hummed, leaning back and pushing his plate of biscuits to Sugishita, who quietly accepted them and ate them. "I've known them for a while, and they don't really have any tension between them."
Sakura simply stared at them, mouth agape, before he slammed his hands on their table. "Then all of you are the blind ones! There's no way ya can't see what's going on between those two!"
"Do you have any proof to support your claims?" Suo said.
"I got a ton." Sakura leaned back in his wooden chair, crossing his arms as he began to recount all the moments that he's witnessed between you and Hajime Umemiya.
—————
Incident One: The lingering gazes when tending to wounds.
After the fight Umemiya and Tomiyama officially declared that they would be friends after their fight, you had immediately approached Umemiya and dragged him to the closest theater seat to the stage.
Umemiya didn't even protest, letting you lead him with a hand wrapped around his forearm as he sat down and let you watch over his wounds. It was almost like routine for the both of you, neither of you saying a word as you fell into a familiar rhythm.
Sakura didn't think much of it at the start — you had done the same thing to the rest of them after their own matches, which was why they all had bandages and ointments spread over their faces.
"What's the verdict, doc?" Umemiya asked, eyes transfixed on you standing over him. "Am I gonna live?"
Sakura did a double take when he saw the smile that took place on Umemiya's face. It was different than the ones that he normally offered to everyone else — it had some kind of... mushiness to it that Sakura couldn't quite identify.
Nonetheless, it caught his attention.
"Your wounds aren't that severe, and the bite on your neck didn't pierce anything vital," you had said, a hand behind his head to make him lean back so you could examine the injury properly. "It doesn't need stitches — they're all pretty shallow. I'll just disinfect all of them then bandage."
"Do your worst, doc." Umemiya leaned back in his chair and watched as you dug into your medkit for the things you needed.
You rolled your eyes, face contorted into an expression of annoyance, undoubtedly caused by Umemiya's behavior during his fight.
"Next time, when someone tries to bite your neck, at least push their head away or something," you huffed as you put a white pad of bandage over the wound to clean it. Your angry tone contrasted the gentle hold you had over his body, as if you were afraid that you were going to break the leader of Bofurin even more.
"Aww, are you worrying about me, doc?" Umemiya cooed closing his eyes as he just let you do your thing.
"I'm more worried about my supplies," you countered, wrapping the bandage around his neck. "At this rate, half my materials will be used on wounds that you pointlessly gain from stupid fights."
Umemiya simply flashed you a grin as he looked up at you. He didn't reply, but the heaviness in his gaze said enough.
"Stop looking at me like that, Umemiya."
"Like what?" Umemiya asked, but he already knew what you were talking about. He just wanted to torture you.
"Like you wanna fight me."
Umemiya blinked. He misinterpreted your interpretation. "That's not-"
You let out a snort, finishing up the bandage and pulling away from him. "I was kidding. Don't get so worked up."
You let your eyes linger on his before you walked away, turning towards other members of Shishitoren in order to treat their wounds that were significantly worse than the Bofurin members had attained.
The interaction that was supposed to just be normal was so charged with tension it penetrated even Sakura's dense brain, causing redness to flood his cheeks as he looked away. He felt like he was invading something intimate and private that he wasn't supposed to witness but did anyway.
And apparently he was the only one who witnessed it because he heard no comments about them, even from the smart Nirei who normally noticed almost every small little detail about his "idols" (and you were pretty high up that list).
Despite that, Sakura didn't say anything about this, thinking that he was just imagining things. After all, he didn't really notice these types of things, didn't he? He was probably just making assumptions.
If only that was the only time that happened.
—————
Incident Two: the fussing over the tiniest cuts.
The second time made him feel suspicious.
He had learned quite quickly that raids from gangs was quite common in the town of Makochi. It was up to Bofurin to make sure that these raids never caused any extended damage on the properties of the residents.
He had also learned that despite the size of Bofurin and the wide array of good fighters that can easily help any kind of raid, Umemiya preferred being more hands-on with his leadership approach. He didn't let his status get in the way of doing meager tasks, like helping put up signs that were too high up for elderly store owners, or chasing down the odd purse-snatcher.
So when there was a tiny raid on the liquor store for the second time in two weeks, Sakura's team rushed over there to help, since they were the closest team that was currently patrolling.
They weren't able to see much of the fight, but they could tell that the gang was getting whacked. Out of a dozen members, four were on the ground, unconscious, while the rest were well on their way there, all while Umemiya didn't have a scratch on him. You were sitting on the curb, simply watching him fight with the medkit you always seemed to have with you on your lap, just waiting for him to finish so you could do your job.
It didn't take long for Umemiya to deal with the gang. His experience with fighting alone and his skill in fighting made the issue a breeze for him, despite gaining a cut on his eyebrow from a knife.
Sakura watched the leader of Bofurin in wonder. This was the person he wished to overcome in order to become the strongest. The boy couldn't help but think that he was a long way from that.
His attention on Umemiya caused him to see something that made him double back. As the older boy walked over to you, Sakura saw how his stance changed the closer he got to you. He went from being the strong fighter, the infamous leader of the protectors of Makochi, to a tired boy the moment he sat down in front of you.
Sakura followed Hiragi and the others in cleaning up the street, fixing things that were thrown into disorder due to the fight. This was also an excuse for Sakura to get closer to the two of you to eavesdrop on your conversation.
"How did I do?" Umemiya asked you, watching you as you took out your necessary materials.
You pretended to think for a moment as you dabbed alcohol onto a clean cotton pad. "Decent enough, I guess, but you get minus points for getting nicked."
You raised the cotton pad and patted the wound with it.
Umemiya hissed in pain, flinching away from the sudden contact of alcohol over his open wound. "Jeez, couldn't you have given me a warning first?"
You rolled your eyes. Nirei had pointed out before that you never rolled your eyes at anyone other than Umemiya, and Sakura realized that he was right. "You're such a big baby," you grumbled, but you had become gentler with your dabbing before you placed the bandaid over his eyebrow.
"If you don't want alcohol over your cuts, don't get anymore in the future," you said as Umemiya stood up, holding out his hand towards you.
"But what reason would I have to visit you then?" Umemiya said cheekily as he pulled you to your feet.
You shoved him, and he stumbled forward dramatically, laughing as a smile broke through your angry façade.
"They both seem very comfortable with each other," Sakura mumbled, and Suo overheard him.
"They've always been like that," he said, smiling. "They're very good friends."
Just friends? Sakura thought as he watched Umemiya sling an arm over your shoulders despite your protest, and the way you still didn't push him off.
I can't help but doubt that.
—————
Incident Three: Massages.
As the representative of his class, Sakura found himself visiting the rooftop garden more often than he had anticipated. Umemiya always asked for updates from all the leaders in Bofurin, and Sakura supposed that this was one of the reasons why people looked up to him so much — he cared a lot about the town and his own men.
You spent most of your time in the garden as well, Sakura noticed. Whether you were organizing supplies, chatting with Umemiya, or helping him with his vegetables, you were always doing something there to keep Umemiya company. You never really listened whenever Umemiya would have a briefing with other squad leaders and class reps, but you always seemed to be there.
Patrol for the day had already ended, so Hiragi decided to let Sakura give the report to Umemiya so he could learn how to do it on his own.
Sakura tried not to show it, but he felt slightly intimidated; not by Umemiya, who he now views as a rival that he must surpass, but by you, the reserved, calculated medic that rarely shows a smile despite the gentle treatment you always give.
This time, however, Sakura wasn't sure whether what to feel as he watched what was going on in front of him.
"Sorry about this, Sakura, but it helps with the back pain," Umemiya said, his voice strained as he sent a smile towards the first year while you sat behind him, pressing on his upper back with enough force for Umemiya's grip on the wooden table in front of him to turn his knuckles white.
"He's a stubborn little shit that doesn't know when to stop when his body is already at its limit," you said monotonously, rubbing your thumbs on his shoulder blades. Umemiya hissed, but gestured for Sakura to start his report.
"Uh," Sakura cleared his throat to regain his composure. "The streets were pretty quiet today. Just a couple of pickpockets and the occasional alley beat-up, but it wasn't that eventful. The butcher shop needed a new door, so we helped with the installment. That's basically it."
Umemiya nodded, one eye squeezing shut as your hands moved down to his lower back, pressing against the contours of his muscles to relieve the tension from them. "Alright, thank you Sakura, you can go — shit!"
"Stop flexing your damn muscles, idiot," you muttered. "I won't be able to fix the soreness if your body isn't relaxed."
"Maybe if you were less harsh, it would be easier for me to relax," Umemiya replied, a bit of a whine in his voice as you rolled your eyes. Nonetheless, Sakura noted the way that you seemed to go easier on the other male. Well, his grip on the table was looser now.
It was around this time that Sakura began to realize that witnessing any moment between you and Umemiya would always feel intimate and intrusive, like he wasn't supposed to see whatever was going on between you two despite neither of you being discreet about it.
Am I the only one who sees anything going on between those two? Sakura thought to himself as he left the rooftop while the two of you bickered between yourselves. Maybe this is what people meant by an "outside perspective". People who grew up with the two of you were absolutely blind to whatever spark there was between Umemiya and his medic.
—————
The Final Incident: The (pretty justified?) overprotectiveness.
Bofurin immediately knew something was wrong when Umemiya's usual message broadcasted in the speaker system lacked its usual mirth.
"Team leaders, report to the rooftop immediately. The rest, wait for instructions from your leaders while going on with your usual duties."
Sakura exchanged glances with Suo and Nirei.
"I wonder what happened," Nirei said nervously, brows creasing with concern.
The three had no idea what could have caused Umemiya to be so serious, but they didn't waste time dwelling on it as they rushed to the roof.
As Umemiya ordered, all the leaders of Bofurin were gathered there. Sakura didn't recognize all of them, but he could see that they were strong, maybe even stronger than him.
"Thank you for gathering on such short notice," Umemiya said, stepping out of the small shade that the rooftop offered. His lips were set into a straight line, his eyes downturned and his brows slightly furrowed. "I'm sorry to put more work on everyone's plates, but we need to double patrol this week."
"What happened, Umemiya?" Hiragi asked, his voice projecting the unease that everyone was feeling.
He didn't reply immediately, moving his Furin coat a bit to stuff his hands into his pockets. "There's a gang active in Makochi," He said, voice leveled. "They're targeting students of Furin, especially the non-violent ones."
"They're destroying shops and hurting people," A new voice interjected, laced with pain and barely-concealed struggle as someone hobbled in from beneath the shade, from the part that was hidden from the eyes of those gathered.
Shock rippled through the leaders of Bofurin, gazes unable to leave your limping form.
The best Sakura could describe you was simple: you were in rough shape. Your right eye was swollen shut, with cuts littering your forehead and cheek that transition into bruises around your neck that disappear under your white undershirt that was stained with red in some places. Your face contorted slightly every time you breathed, and your knuckles were messily wrapped with bandages that were already soaked with blood.
Umemiya surged towards you, putting a hand under your bent elbow to offer you more support.
"I told you to rest," he muttered, words quiet but not unheard by Sakura due to their proximity. "Sit down."
You shook your head, the movement making you wince slightly. "My foot was getting numb. I needed to stretch my legs."
"Numbness is quite common with people who have injured their ankle and are subjected to bed rest," Umemiya replied, a bit of his usual snarkiness returning for a bit before leaving just as quickly as it had come.
"Just... let me speak first," you pleaded slightly, looking at your friend. You may be heavily injured, but you had a position as Umemiya's direct right-hand to uphold. You had to show that you were still strong even after the advances that the gang made on you.
Umemiya studied you for a moment, before sighing and helping you reorient yourself so you could face the members properly.
"Did they attack you?" Hiragi demanded with barely restrained anger that Sakura understood. You were also close with him, and you would always check up on him, and now you were hurt. He would be as angry as him if he were in the same position.
You nodded. "Earlier before assembly. Don't worry — the ones involved were handled with accordingly."
A few small smirks appeared in the crowd. They expected nothing less from the second strongest in Bofurin.
You took a deep breath before speaking again.
"They want to challenge Bofurin for control of the town," you said, now addressing the leaders of your beloved gang. "As much as possible, don't entertain this challenge. Umemiya and I will —"
Umemiya cleared his throat loudly from beside you, giving you a pointed look. You rolled your eyes and recorrected your words. "... Umemiya will handle it. Your priority is to protect the townspeople."
"Under no circumstances are any of you or your squad members allowed to include them in the conflict," Umemiya warned, his tone making everyone straighten their spines a bit. "They struck first and injured our medic, an action we cannot overlook. They may be strong, but we're stronger. They step onto our turf with weapons in their hands and evil in their hearts, so you know what to do when they decide to do something with it."
"Purge them with no exception," you finished, keeping your chin held high despite your slouched form. Everyone nodded and responded in unison before dispersing with newfound determination that they would soon spread to their underclassmen as they went out for patrol.
As Sakura went through his normal routes for patrol with his eyes peeled, he thought back to the way you spoke to the crowd of Bofurin members. He admired your display of strength, the way you stood up and talked with authority despite the pain you were in.
Both you and Umemiya were perfect examples of how a leader is supposed to be, and Sakura was sure to take notes. He would need it when he would take over Bofurin, one day in the semi-distant future.
But for now, remembering you and Umemiya and your chemistry together as leaders and... something else, Sakura couldn't help but think that he had a long, long way to go.
—————
Silence enveloped the table before Suo let out a laugh. "I didn't know you had a sense of humor, Sakura-san."
Sakura sputtered, pushing his chair back as he stood up. "I'm not jokin'! There's definitely something going on between them — even I can see that."
Nirei smiled nervously, playing with the pages of his small notebook that he carried everywhere. "I'm sorry Sakura-san, but even with the... proof that you told us, I still don't think they like each other that way."
"You're just saying that because you're used to seeing them act that way with each other!" Sakura argued. "I'm tellin' ya, if they were just friends, there's no way they'd be acting the way they do!"
Kotoha shamelessly eavesdropped on their conversation with a smile on her face. She was having trouble stifling her giggles as she whipped out her phone and clicked on Umemiya's contact to send him a message:
Looks like you lovebirds need to be more discreet. The first years are getting suspicious about you two.
Umemiya cracked an eye open when he felt his phone buzz on his chest, raising it to his eye level from where he laid on your lap on the wooden bench in the rooftop.
He let out a chuckle and nudged your thigh. "Look at this."
You put down your own phone and read the texts from Kotoha, and you let out a small laugh. "I suppose we've been quite bold recently," you hummed, your fingers tangling with Umemiya's hair and massaging his scalp.
Umemiya sighed, eyes fluttering shut as he enjoyed your gentle touch. "Nah, I think it's all 'cause of Sakura's outsider perspective. We've been acting the same as we always have been, but no one's brought it up until now."
"I guess so," you shrugged. "Are we gonna do something about it, Haji?"
He opened his eyes and looked up at you, his blue eyes drifting over every feature of your face, all the beauty and imperfections that he loved to death. "Are you fine with them finding out?" He asked you.
"Yeah," you said without hesitation. "It's not like I'm ashamed of you."
Umemiya grinned, making you flush slightly before hiding your face from him. It wasn't often you were this soft with him, and he enjoyed every moment.
"I knew you loved me," he cooed, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes.
You picked up your phone with a free hand and shot a text to Kotoha before putting it back down to play with his hair again. "Nah, just embarrassed of your lovesick behavior."
"Admit it, you enjoy it!" He sang, and you flicked his forehead, making him whine and hide his face in your stomach. You laughed, eyes crinkling as you basked in the moment with the boy you grew to care for beyond the boundaries of friendship.
Kotoha's phone lit up, and she checked the text you sent her.
Let them be. It's about time people gained vision and actually noticed something.
Kotoha smiled, putting down her phone and prepping another meal for Sakura and his friends.
She was your and Umemiya's number one shipper, and she was so happy that people were noticing both of you more and more. Soon enough, she can yap to someone about how annoying Umemiya gets when he isn't with you, and how you act annoyed when he's overbearing like that, but you still deal with it.
Because no matter what you say, she could tell that you loved her brother just as much as he loved you, and that was enough.
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