Could You Really Love Me Too?

<3

could you really love me too?

kaveh x fem!reader | 2.4k + words

warnings: hurt/comfort, alcohol use, idiots to lovers <3

you know you shouldn’t have looked. you shouldn’t have. not when you knew it would end up like this but you just couldn’t keep your eyes from following the bounce of soft blonde hair with his long strides to the bar or the way the silky strands rested against the pale skin of his back showing through his half open shirt. the wine against your tongue grew bitter watching pretty and slender fingers reaching for his shoulder while others twirled long hair as their owner batted long lashes and flashed a smile that was obnoxiously obvious in its intentions and infatuation but even though you wanted to look away, you couldn’t. 

kaveh could have anyone. the light of the kshahrewar, smart and talented, beautiful to boot, with a heart so big and an eye for romance that many thought was only written about in books. no one could possibly not fall for him and so easily, for so long, you have found yourself at the mercy of that love.

not that he knew that. no, he doesn't know how much your heart is knocking uncomfortably against your chest at the thought of him with someone else or that your entire being bursts into butterflied at the mere brush of your hands, which happened far too often, and you had no intention of telling him for more reasons that you can cont.

you can feel alhaithams eyes on you, studying and noticing every little bit of emotion that’s shown through your eyes. how could he not have seen when fuck you felt like you might actually cry right here and now, in the middle of lambads tavern, as you watched the scene of flirty students cozying up with kaveh while he waited for your drink refills. as much as you hated it right now, you loved when he smiled back at them, bright and big. you just wish it was back at you and not at them but bleh that thought didn’t make you feel much better. not when it filled you with shame.

“you know you could just tell him how you feel,” alhaitham says in his normal flat tone. you might have teased him for caring about what happens between you and his roommate if it weren’t for the emotions your overflowing with swallowing all of your wit.

you tear your eyes from kaveh, hearing the student talking with him laugh just a little too loud and glare at alhaitham with ice daggers that he found rather amusing on your pouty face.

he knew how you felt about kaveh, as your long time friend, over all this time, he found you rather easy to read and had been the one to introduce you to kaveh in the first place. and he normally wouldn’t get involved, it had been entertaining to watch you play this game of chicken with kaveh when alhaitham knew something you didn’t, but this had gone on long enough. by now anyone with two eyes and a brain not clouded in love could see how you felt about each other. at this point you were both being unreasonable and quite frankly stupid in the scribe's opinion.

“i can’t do that and you know it,” you snap at him but there's no real bite behind your words. you couldn’t tell him.. didn’t.. didn’t he deserve someone better.. smarter.. more accomplished.. more beaut-

“and why not? what do you have to lose?”

“besides my dignity?” you flash your eyes up at alhaitham just to tear them away again a second later, your gaze briefly coming across the architect on the other side of the room, catching the girl kaveh was speaking with leaning into his chest and tracing the stones that rested against his neck. “our friendship. him as a whole..” you continue, biting your bottom lip to stop it’s trembling. it’s fine.. as long as he was happy that’s what matters and- “at least this way he's in my life somehow.”

“is that really what you want?” alhaitham asks, crossing his arms, watching the processing of his question across your face and the true answer you probably weren’t going to share with him behind your eyes.

and he’d be right, you wouldn’t tell him because saying it outloud.. admitting it was tearing you apart to just be friends when you loved him, when you wanted to always be beside him in a way no one else could, never leaving him alone again.. no you couldn’t say it.. it was so selfish when he didn’t want the same with you.

“since when do you get involved in such things, huh?!” now there is actual venom in your words. not that he minds, it only confirms what alhaitham already knew. “it means nothing if he doesn’t..” your voice dies off and instead of finishing your thought you down the last of your drink, the bitter liquid joining the previous drinks that warm your cheeks and weaken the wall you normally keep these feelings well hidden behind.

alhaitham speaks, you hear his voice but the words hardly register in your mind when you find yourself the fool for the second time tonight when you chose to look again and see a sight that struck your walls so hard it crumbled them to dust, leaving your heart bleeding and bare; dainty white flat showing from under the traditional scholar robes as she stretches to reach for the same lips you’d longed to taste, eyes closing and kavehs grip on her shoulders. from the angle he had moved his expression was mostly hidden from you but that was probably for the best. 

“s-sorry alhaitham..i.. i gotta..” you stutter a broken apology as you reach into your bag before tossing a handful of mora on the table and making a b-line right for the door, not daring to look back and far from carrying how crazy you looked sprinting out the door and ignoring the shout following after you.

“y/n!”

“what did you say to her?!” kaveh yells at the unbothered scribe sitting a few tables away from where he stood by the door, waiting to continue going after you. he had only been gone a few minutes and when he finally had the chance to tear his eyes away from the drunken scholar that was annoying him, after pushing her off of him when she got too handsy, he had only seen you talking with alhaitham.

neither of them care about the many eyes on them in the quiet bar.

“i wouldn’t be so quick to place incorrect blame,” alhaitham shrugs and takes a sip of his drink, pulling out a book from his pack.

“tch,” kaveh scoffs but he doesn’t have time to say much more, not if he was planning to catch up with you, your figure getting smaller and smaller in the distance when he makes it out the door and takes after you with a racing heart and worry pumping through his veins.

he had seen the tears you swiped from your eyes before you made it out the door and his chest ached at the thought of you crying alone.. didn’t you know that he would always be here so you would never have to be alone again? thats what you do when you.. when you love someone.

hes admitted it to himself before, even let it slip to alhaitham one drunken night at home but he had yet to admit to the one person it should have been said to.. and kaveh has no one to blame but himself. he had fallen for you so quickly, can’t help wanting to shower you in his love and sometimes doing more than he should as a friend because of it but he.. did he really deserve someone as wonderful as you? could he give you everything you want and more? is he.. enough for such an ethereal soul..

the city streets weren’t crowded, thank archons and the patrons that parted in your wake stayed to the side with kaveh chasing after you, both of your speeds increasing but his longer strides slowly but surely closing the distance.

over and over he calls your name, urgency in his voice but you only stop when you gets a hold of your wrist just as you make it to the outskirts of the city, no one but the birds and wildflowers around to hear your panting breaths, the dew drops of your tears catching on long blades of grass.

“go away kaveh!” you shout, turning around, eyes closed and trying to hide their wetness as you push against his heaving chest to get away.

“no,” his grip on you tightens but not enough to hurt, he would never hurt you but he couldn’t just let you go either, not when you were hurting.. not when you might need him.  “not until you tell me what's gotten into you. i’m worried you know?”

“honestly, why do you even care?” you try so hard to hide your broken voice but it's all to no avail. 

“w-what?” his chest tightens into knots that constrict painfully and you can hear it through his voice, feel his fingers around your wrist loosen in his shock. “what in the world are you talking about y/n?”

you pull your hand from his, shoving your other hand against his chest to put some distance between you, giving you the chance to get away because you were not holding it together at all right now and didn’t know how much more you could take. “just forget it!”

“hey!” he shouts, reaching out and grabbing your hand again, using his surprising strength to pull you into him, your face now resting against his exposed chest, his other arm wrapping around your middle to keep you pressed close. he can feel you shaking in his hold, knows it's your tears that are rolling down his chest and collecting on his shirt. “tell me..” he lets go of your hand in favor of cradling the back of your head, slender and calloused fingers getting lost in your hair. quiet and full of worry, his warm breath against your face thanks to the proximity you share, he tries again. “what's wrong? why are you running from me?”

“let me go.” you protest but don’t fight to get out of his hold. you let his scent envelope you, grip the thin fabric of his shirt when you finally stop resisting him so much. never let me go.. your heart echoes. 

he only tightens his embrace, the pads of his fingers on your back sinking further into your skin. he held you with care, like you might break in his hold but still he put his strength behind it, like it might hurt him too if you left in this state. “so unusually stubborn tonight y/n.” he doesn’t sound annoyed, he’s more admiring than anything, as he was with any part of you but after a moment, in a voice not nearly as sure, he asks “… have i done something to upset you?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, letting the warmth of him calm your tears, bringing a steady rhythm back to your breaths. while it did have to do with him, it wasn’t him.. he couldn’t help how adored he was and he wasn’t yours to covet or be jealous over. “no.. it wasn’t you..”

“then what was it hm? you can tell me anything, you know that."

“that just it kaveh..” you bury yourself further into his chest, as if it might hide you from him, not let your feelings be shown on your sleeve. “i.. i can’t tell you this..”

“why is that?” he’s so patient trying to coax it out of you, running his finger through your hair to help you calm, assure you it was okay. his own heart was erratic in your ears, telling you just how calm he was not. in his arms, where you would rather be than anywhere else in this world, with his undivided attention and worry, you felt your resolve slipping. 

“because.. what… what if you don’t feel the same.. what if i lose you forever..” you say it so quietly you wonder if he had heard it at all.

but of course he had heard, he was listening so closely to any sign of what could make your pain go away, how he could bring back your lovely smile. it wasn’t what he had expected to hear, though his entire being filled with warmth hearing it and his brain searched for any meaning behind your words aside from what his heart and soul knew was the truth. what he wanted to be true all along and now it was unfolding before him. 

you really had loved him back… 

“y/n-”

“don’t,” you interrupt on a choked sob. “i don’t..” don't want to hear how you don’t love me in the same way..

“won't you hear me out?” he asks, a softness in his tone that drew you from his chest to look into his eyes, that struck the match of hope deep within your heart. cupping your face, he wipes your tears, the moonlight glistening in his eyes making them look like silver fire capturing your own eyes, not wavering for a moment even through the thundering pulse in his veins and at the pink that begins to dust his cheeks, up the corners of his eyes and to the tips of his ears. 

you nod your head, unable to stop yourself from leaning into his touch, melting under his tender and flushed expression. his thumb brushes along your wet face, your eyes fluttering closed as he leans down and you feel his lips against your skin, a chaste kiss on the apple of your cheek that leaves a searing heat on you after he’s pulled away. he doesn’t go far, the warmth of his breath fanning against you, the deep calming breaths he takes against your chest, the tips of his hair tickling you like a ghost's touch.

“i love you more than you know,” i always have, but he’ll have plenty of time to tell you now that you know what is in his heart.. and what he hopes is in yours too.. “and every day i love you more still.”

“kaveh..” you eyes open slowly, more tears escaping them without your permission but you don’t mind. not when they’re tears of happiness. “i love you t-”

he doesn’t let you finish before his lips are on yours, soft yet claiming, with every ounce of your adoration for one another poured into it. the first kiss of many he would share with you from now on, the first kiss of many just tonight, to make up for all the times he wished he had and even more to promise their eternal love to you.

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

Look at this boy!! Don’t you just wanna kiss the living daylights out of this chef?

His name is Henry btw.

The Art of Sharing a Meal | Giyuu Tomioka

Word Count: 4285

Setting: Giyuu Tomioka x gn!reader (reader is a slayer), mutual pining, SFW

Content Warnings: no warnings here, just fluff all around

Summary: a day off is normally something to treasure, but for a work-a-holic like Giyuu, it's quite the struggle to navigate, as well as what to do with his spare time: music, gardening, sparring, and even cooking can be quite the challenge unless you're by his side.

[The artwork belongs to Koyoharu Gotouge!]

Steam rolled in waves off of the fire, the pots of the kitchen hut and modest. The care of the meticulously maintained cookware evident to have withstand the test of the pillage the kitchen had endured.

Pots placed throughout counters, knives awkwardly stuck in the chopping boards; peels of produce abandoned across the surface, forgotten in his enthusiasm. Chunks of daikon misshaped and awry, clearly abused and awkwardly handled in their preparation. The chunks uneven, and prepared at uneven temperatures due to the varying thickness. The pungent odor of kombucha seaweed miscalculated, and left on the stove for far too long. The remaining parts stripped of any potential savory umami, and left to wallow and slimy as the earth worms that he had met this morning. The seaweed containing the same degree of appetizing as the garden crawlers. Although unlike the soil caretakers, the kelp had long lost its benefits, seethed right from its properties. The distinct sear of overcooked salmon burned his nose, caught on the revealing hues of whites that it offered when he had sliced it. The skin awkwardly marred despite his best attempts, curiously dry despite the broth it soaked in. Composed of soy sauce and ginger far too overbearing and unbalanced and settled awkwardly and disproportion in sake. The rice wine oozing of booze and oppressive against the taste buds. Chalky on the tongue, and disappointing as the flavor punished his palate. The pucker of his lips as he forced down another bite; the disappointment evident on his features.

His meal had been in good company; afforded the rare day off at Ubuyashiki’s insistence. The leader had expressed his concern for the Water Hashira, expressed that Tomioka was well known for his adamant nature, overworked, and the man had suspected that such lifestyle choices had begun to bare on him. Weighted, and affecting his performance, he had reminded Giyuu that such decisions could impair is battle tact, reminded him that an early grave could be the result. One that very well, could belong to another rather than the Hashira, himself. A fate that Giyuu wished to avoid at all costs, and so, he had begrudgingly accepted Ubuyashiki’s care.

                The dreaded reality of having a day off in the unusual opportunity to relax had weighed on him. The morning hours spent awkwardly wandering about the mansion, no longer contempt to stay in his room and play his usual games. His voyage leaving him displaced and a float. Tomioka had become increasingly aware… that he really did not know how to relax. The dawning conclusion had led him through a variety of paths, determined to seize his day off in a way that would benefit his work performance. Sharpen his mind, and ensure the safety of those under his care.

                He had begun with Gyomei. The Stone Hashira had towered over him, eyes a wide and clasping his prayer beads as he regarded his peer. His features strained and stoic, had reassured Giyuu that such a rest was necessary from time to time as the foreboding man prepared himself for an upcoming mission while attempting to ponder Tomioka’s inquiry. Pressed a smile one that appeared to be sculpted from boulders itself, his steps heavy as he crossed the room. His shifting amongst belongings practiced, and precise as he found a flute and presented Giyuu with a book alongside it. His voice telling, as calm as any father figure could ever hope to be, he devlved to Giyuu that he had purchased the instructions in the hope that the hobby would bring Genya peace—the younger slayer had often been known to enjoy his playing, but as time had taught the Stone Pillar, he was uninterested. The book left with little choice to collect dust. The man had made the suggestion born of his own hobby, and the peace it often brought him, and so, the Water Hashira had set off to attempt sahkuhachi.  It should have been an obtainable goal, at least the building blocks instructions Gyomei had left in his care before Giyuu had departed. The directions were formative, intended for small children beginning their journey, and yet, despite the effort Tomioka had placed into the flute, he had become aware that it was not working out well at all.

                The yank of the instrument from his fingers, his eyes pressed together through forced breaths, the younger Shinazugawa had seized his opportunity, and forced the woodwind from Giyuu’s grasp. His eyes agitated; the scowl permanently etched into his features. He resembled his brother far more than he had his adopted father. The newer member to the corps had found him in the garden, drawn by the clear dismay of passing maids and kakushi who could be heard lamenting about the dying animal they had overheard. Informed Giyuu that his performance was hopeless unless he had intended to utilize it as some form of punishment in slaying. The bamboo strains threatening to snap between his fingers as he lectured his superior. Tomioka’s down casted gaze having shocked the man into an awkward apology, that sounded more like a backhanded compliment. Stumbled from fallen words, Genya had suggested something less detrimental to the health of other members, perhaps gardening. He had shared his own fondness for tending to bonsai trees. Work beckoning the young boy away, and leaving Giyuu to consider his suggestion.

                Tomioka was not entirely unfamiliar to the world of gardening. Under Urokodaki’s care, Giyuu had the understanding of the basic necessities of farming. In the mountains, they were left with limited resources, and so Sabito and he had nurtured a vegetable garden, and even learned to identify wild vegetables in the forests and mountain sides. With such knowledge at his disposal, he understood that starting a garden would be a tall order for a single day off, and his efforts would be met with disappointment when he returned from a long mission. The Water Hashira’s garden would not survive without his care, and to expect other members of the corps to carry the weight was a burden he would not request, nor a task he would push off to the kakushi. Fist clapped against his hand; he knew what it was he needed to do. He had filtered through the mansion’s library, thumbed through various manuscripts, and care guides before locating what he needed. His feet carrying him as his eyes glanced amongst the pages and instructions before stopping before delicately maintained bonsai trees. Ones that Genya, the very slayer who had suggested the past time to him had cultivated. Just as Giyuu would struggle to maintain a garden, he had considered that the younger Shinazugawa likely faced the same obstacles in his cultivation and care. It would be a great show of appreciation to care for his trees in his wake, after all he had suggested such a pass time in the first place. Pages pressed between firm fingers in his left hand, sea drowned eyes that skimmed the instructions and eyebrows drawn. Clippers captured in his right hand, far too rigid for the proper technique. These instructions, much like the ones Gyomei had provided were intended for beginners, and surely something he could accomplish in a timely manner. The diagram had made it seem so easy. Snip after snip, the realization began to settle upon the demanding bellow. The familiar rage he had elicited as fast as the breeze. The demands to know what it was in the seven hells he was doing, or at least, what he thought he was doing. The seething anger that radiated from the Wind Hashira as he wretched the clippers from his hands, offered Giyuu another perspective in which Giyuu could appraise his work through, and… it wasn’t good. Quickly registering that meticulous was far more complicated he had been prepared for, and the evidence was left in bare branches. Jutting leaves at odd angles, and the once proud bonsai seemed humiliated at its appearance. Leaving the Water Hashira with the conclusion that… this was not the pass time for him before he dared to ask the older Shinazugawa what he would recommend. The query had landed as a challenge rather than a question. The Wind Pillar rash to act on his urges, the fist that claimed Giyuu’s top and yanked him to his feet. Eye to eye, curse after curse, threat after threat, the Water Hashira was at a loss. No matter how he approached the angle, he could not comprehend how a threat had been made, the pondering only eliciting further rage.

                The commotion of feral growls met with confused bland statements shifted the kakushi from sight, quick to escape any damage that a sparring match would be sure to result in; the Wind Hashira was renowned for his fury. Their scrambling down the halls drawing the interception from Kanroji. The Love Hashira met them with concerned, immediately offering her assistance. She was well practiced in mediation. Her bounce in step as she intruded upon the pending scurry drew immediate dismay from Sanemi. The red of his face burning and horrified at the way she had pressed herself between them, determined to separate the two other pillars. Her affectionate smile revealing how blissfully aware at the way she had squished the agitated man. The flush of his skin staining the scars that danced across his face. Only able to manage another curse before departing down the hallway, leaving a storm in his path just as the one he had provided at his arrival. Left alone, and obviously confused at the Wind breather’s pardon, Kanroji tilted her head at Giyuu. Her eyes wide and affectionate, quick to inquire if the Water Pillar was alright, and when met with the nature of his dilemma, she had beamed. She cooed his praise, sung compliment after compliment at his hard work, and reassured him that Ubuyashiki was in fact correct. This would be wonderful for him. The smack of her hand meeting his back, intending to be as affectionate as the words she threaded together were met against the curve of his spine. The brute strength she bared completely slipping from her mind—she had nearly tumbled him over. His back ached, he had concluded. He was beginning to lose faith that a day off was relaxing at all, as he considered the woman’s parting advice. She had always enjoyed a meal best, on her day off. Although Giyuu suspected Kanroji always enjoyed her meals, she had assured him that food always tasted perfect on a day off.

Yes, his meal was in good company. A stewing match of disappointment that rolled into overbearing flavor rather than the subtle gentle one he had craved. The salmon pressed against his teeth, an uncomfortable chalky texture that dragged as he chewed. He struggled to throw it away, it seemed such a waste to simply toss it. He couldn’t imagine a proper reason to squander such use of ingredients, he had made this wreck. Giyu had determined... It would be cruel to offer it to Kanzaburo; he should be the one to eat it. He also imagined that… his old crow despite its withering age, would not accept it from the scent alone. Not that the swordsman could fault him for it. There was also the reality, that Giyuu neither had the resolve to request someone else prepare the meal, not that any kakushi were available today. Pulled away for various work tasks, the Water Hashira had been left to his own devices, lulled into a false sense of security. He had been familiar with the basics of cooking. Urokodaki had ensured he had the capabilities to prepare for food for himself; the demands of his work had ensured he was capable of securing food in the wilderness. His onigiri were simple, but edible, easily fitting into his pocket. He had been known to catch his own fish, and prepare them over a fire when missions led him far from towns and villages. He had truly thought of all the tasks, this was the one he would succeed at. His face drawn, eyes facing the mess before him, he had gathered the courage to press on. It was not as though he was at risk of poisoning himself—he was confident in that, and so, he steeled himself for another bite.

The mansion had been deserted for the most part upon your arrival. The halls devoid of the usual bustle, only the occasional kakushi rushed pass you, eager hands determined to complete their task in the wake of their comrade’s absence. Too determined to accomplish duties to properly acknowledge you, not that they had been disrespectful by any means. They were simply enthralled in their obligations to offer more than a nod in passing, their feet pattering hard against wood floors. Your report had been filed to the head of the household. Had ensured the details had been properly disclosed. It had not been an especially trying demon, but the demands on your body from the trip were tiring. Nothing you were unaccustomed to—the Wind Hashira’s sparing matched were more toiling, but you couldn’t deny the ache in your bones as you rubbed your neck, your feet a mere echo amongst the noise of the mansion. A lone figure with no immediate pressing duties to attend to. The head, Ubuyashiki had offered you the gentlest of smiles, relieved to welcome you home once again. The touch of guilt that followed was not out of place, he had often borne fatigue upon any member’s arrival. Remorse and regret were known to steal his appetite, and you believed that tonight was no different. On weary bones he rose, his wife the Lady Ubuyashiki quick to accompany his side. His weight pressed against her as he regarded her with the warmth of long-time lovers intertwined by fate and joined at the hits, a sweet sight one that you often relished in such pressing times. You had begun to rise yourself, quick to excuse yourself from the wed couple, who were clearly preoccupied in one another’s embrace, but were paused at the door. Your hand on the frame as you peeked over your shoulder, greeted by Amane’s knowing smile as the leader of the Demon Corps asked if you would be willing to shoulder, just one more burden before retiring for the night. At first, you had assumed that he was requesting tea—the lack of kakushi would mean that not all of his medical needs were priority. He had preferred it that way, but Lady Amane was more the responsive to his needs, often supplying anything her husband required before he had even known himself. No, the pleasant smile was not one that requested any personal needs, but rather, he requested you pay visit to the kitchens, “you will know before you arrive,” he had said with the faintest of chuckles. The disease clear on his throat before he allowed himself to be fully taken by his wife, bidding you farewell for the night.

                He was right. The smell greeted you long before you had turned the corner of the inner rooms. What spices drafted through creeks and clung to furniture, you did not know.. Far more pungent than the fermented and dried fish that frequented some villages. In fact, you would rather welcome the horrible familiar stench of kusaya than face what lied ahead. The rare person you passed just as quick to evade the scene, unwilling to be wrangled into what mess awaited you. The pinch of your nose against your nostrils. The heavy wave of booze that carried as you peeked around the corner. This was where you had found him. Lost in a sea of mangled daikon radishes, askew across the counter. Awkwardly peeled and telling of his unfamiliarity with a kitchen blade. The nicks slammed into the cutting wood slab far deeper than necessary, fluid as his breathing style, and just as lethal. Steam of rice well prepared despite the surrounding circumstances, Slimy folds of unsavory kombu seaweed, unsalvageable. A rare sight for any cooking experience, and the slight burn of fish that had not only been over cooked, but had trodden into smoldered.  Edges revealing signs of over temperature whether of neglect having been too focused on cooking the radishes, or inexperience, you weren’t entirely sure. Nor were you entirely confident that the man who sat with the stoic face upon his features was not in fact intoxicated for how heavily the sake measurement reeked.  Curiously examining his bowl, trying to determine exactly what ingredients he had selected, and the peculiar regard the Water Hashira had for the meal before him. Pursed lips, hyper focused as he dared one more bite. I-It can’t be tasty. Your gaze swept over him, following every line of his face, unsure? His eyelashes fluttering, and there it was. The small bend of his eyebrow. Disappointed. The word was the only accurate description for what you had witnessed. The distant memory of Shinobu sharing her “disgust” over having witnessed Tomioka partake in his favorite food. Salmon and daikon. His time spent over the kitchen, eagerly attempting to make his own meal, and savor its effort. Only to eagerly disappointed. The queasy way he regarded his bite. Chopsticks having secured it, resolving… no, willing himself to partake another bite despite the illease on his features.

                You could not stop yourself. Perhaps it was that your body had not yet settled from your fight out in the field, or the dinner before you had awakened your adrenaline. Preparing you for another battle, the chance of self-poisoning certainly seemed possible in the state before you, although whether you cared to face the sneaking suspicion, or not, his lapis lazuli eyes captivated you. Washed from the deepest shades of blues stranded at grape hyacinth hues. Straight face, and unwilling to crack, but the surprise somehow was evident. You would chalk it up to instinct, born of that adrenaline rush, and nothing more. “Ah, Welcome home,” he had stated, monotonous despite the way your thoughts whispered that you had caught him off guard. His eyes beginning to drift to your hand, having caught his own within their grasp. His own hands warmed from the kitchen while yours touched on small touches of the inclined weather that awaited the outdoors. The realization you had grabbed him so familiarly touching your ears and drawing your eyes to the corner of your lashes, releasing him. Warm and embarrassed, as you bit your lip. Studied the ruins of produce spread across the counter. Suspected that he had intended to clean as soon as he had finished his meal.

                “You’ll give yourself food poisoning,” you returned.

                His eyes catching yours before inspecting the bite between the chopsticks. Rotating his wrist in an attempt to determine the risk. Unsure of how to proceed, the Water Hashira was not exactly known for his conversational skills. Nor quick to admit that he needed assistance. You had been well aware of that for your time working together, his often-incompatible nature often setting awkwardly against the other members of the Corps, you were often partnered together. Not that you had ever minded, in fact, you enjoyed the small moments together. Enjoyed the small wrinkle he would get in his brow when he concentrated, the wiggle of his eyebrows would reveal when he was embarrassed. Likely a result of feeling he had pressed too far, inconvenienced you in a way. The first time you had witnessed it, was when he had caught you. Your footing met awkwardly against the mountain side, and the blood loss from a demon inflicted wound had grown too heavy on you. Dulled your senses, and caused you to slip. His grasp had been firm. Resolved to ensuring your safety, he had gritted his teeth when the wound was made. Revealed a level of rage you hadn’t recognized beneath the calm façade of his, and at the moment he dared to embrace you, his eyebrows twitched. Anxious, the smallest tint shift in his features as he searched your reaction. It had ended in you accepting a piggy back ride from him. Far closer than either of you two had ever dared to cross, much like now. Some part of you daring to push, after all, Ubuyashiki had requested your assistance. There would be nothing… more to meeting them. Just like there had been no underlining meaning to him carrying you to the Butterfly Mansion that day.

Through pursed lips, shy and unwilling to accept the weight at your chest, and the way it fluttered as you wielded a small kitchen knife, you leaned forward. As though you were instructing a small child, one new to the kitchen, and eager to learn. Rotated your wrists, adjusted his hands over the daikon as necessary. You had tossed his failed attempt into the compost bin, reassured him that it would not be a waste this way—his guilt was heavy and noticeable as you laid out the necessary ingredients, and tools you would require to complete dinner. Successfully able to determine that his rice was salvageable, and well-seasoned overall. One less thing to worry about, only the main course needed completing then. Had complied when he requested you show him, noticed the way his ears tinted, the quip of his brow serious and focused in the way that you adored as you leaned over him, daring to touch his hands, and demonstrate the proper technique. Left to simmer, you secured the salmon and laid it before him. Reminded him that unlike his duties, the kitchen blade required a softer movement. One like a stream rather than a wave, and not to fight the gentle ease of his wrist as he followed your instruction. Slice after slice, dropping the salmon into warm water left in the wake of the cooked daikon, and just as quick to retrieve it—you would not allow this salmon to suffer the same fate as the fish before it. In death, it deserved dignity. Not the disgrace the other one had endured. Watched as he transferred it to cold water, leaned over the counter as you tested the daikon to ensure that it was manageable temperature. Perfectly cooked, but able to handle before dropping it to the pot once more alongside an embellishment of seaweed. He had listened eagerly to you explain the importance of moderation in seasoning, his eyes followed your movements as though he were witnessing a kabuki theater. Traced your silhouette, watched as the steam traced you form. Told yourself that it was merely his focus that drew his attention to you. Shy and avoiding meeting his peering gaze, one that threatened to wake the core of your soul and release words you dare not whisper. Distant, hopeful thoughts intrusive and homely in nature. Dreams of a home upon retirement. Time spent in the kitchen just like this. Reveal yourself to him in a way that you know. Together… No, no, focus on the ginger, you hissed to yourself. Your fingers grasping the ginger far tighter than you intended. Not that he hadn’t noticed, but wished to convince yourself he hadn’t. There was nothing more to this, nothing outside of orders you had received, you reminded yourself as you carefully ladled the broth into a bowl. Garnishing with warm slices of daikon that glistened into the light. The delicate hint of ginger that embraced the sake, perfectly balanced. The feeling of GIyuu’s eyes glued to your form, the way he regarded you. New. Soft, and delicate as the way you placed the bowl before him, a side of rice alongside it.

                There, you had told yourself. You would leave the kitchen cleaning to him. It was after all his mess in the first place. You would pick up the necessary, slip yourself some onigiri, and sneak away before he had the opportunity to realize the depth you were carrying. The impending worry that those intrusive thoughts, ones that lingered for his touch. To share in more than just one another’s company. It needed to be avoided at all costs, but his voice had caught you. You had rarely been able to escape his gaze.

                “Will you.. eat with me?” Small, quiet. That wrinkle of his eyebrows that whispered his unsureness to you. Likely questioning if he had crossed the line, so completely unaware that your heart had done so long ago. How weak you were to resist him. How could he ask such of you? Did he truly not know? How would you deny him? What excuse could you offer? How much longer could you pretend that it were merely the duties that had bound you to one another? Nervous bite of your lip and the blush that burned at your cheeks as you nervously secured your own portion, his head turned from your own as you questioned whether you should sit across from him or… beside him? How could he be so unaware?

Perhaps, as oblivious as you were to the smile that caught his lips. The press of your shoulders providing extra warmth despite the cold of the night beginning to settle in. The hush of goosebumps that quivered down his back as he leaned into your shoulder. The salmon and daikon was good. Perhaps, the very best he had ever enjoyed, but the company was even better.

If you are interested in trying Giyuu's favorite meal, I highly recommend Honey'sAnime recipe for a more traditional approach, or Naoko Takei Moore's elivated dish.

★﹐冬のはなし．﹗﹑ KUSUO SAIKI

ミ★ ; "I rejected her." he said, his voice remaining stoic, "Why?" was all you said, tears welling up in your eyes, "Because I like you"

warnings. angst. happy ending. second lead!teruhashi. implied unrequited love. grammar errors

"Saiki, I really really like you." the blue haired girl said, waiting for him to answer the two words she wanted to hear him say; "oh wow." but that never came, not from him but from someone outside the classroom door, it was a surprise they didn't hear her, she assumed they focused on each other. She left before the pink haired boy said anything, going to text him that their cafe hangout would be canceled.

'smth came up sai, i'm srry." — seen

Right. You were guessing that kusuo and kokomis were hanging out at this point, it was no surprise that they would end up together, he'll even some of kokomis crazy fans thought so. Those two were meant to be soulmates, together in every universe.

While you were stuck as the second choice, like always. You wondered if you were to confess before the blue haired angel would everything stay the same? That instead of teruhashi confessing to saiki in that classroom, it was you? That he said yes to you, and not her. You hated how selfish you were thinking, though you were glad you and saiki gotten those matching rings that would stop his psychic abilities, he wouldn't know what you were thinking of.

It was late, and here you were still crying over the pink haired boy, something you hated. You looked at the ceiling, and starting thinking of every universe there was where the two of them would end up together. That's when you heard a notification from your phone;

You checked your phone to ignore the feeling of heartbreak. That was the plan until you saw a message pop up;

"Meet me at the park in 5" — sent from 'ku⁉️'

It was 3 AM at the moment, what would he want this late at nigh—

'I'm not taking a no as an answer" — sent at 3:02 AM

Okay then, you were heading to the park, great.

Once you got ready, you headed out your window, making sure it was quiet so no one could hear you, after that you started head to the park where the pink boy would wait for you. That same feeling of heartbreak not leaving you as you headed to the place.

By the time you get there he was by the swings, swinging back and forth, you went up to him and smiled, he looked up at you and stood up, "We need to talk," he said, that same stoic face not leaving him, "About...?" "Teruhashi confessed that she liked me," "oh. congratulations on getting with her! you two were practically made for each oth—" "I didn't say yes, I rejected her."

your didn't know wether to feel bad for her or not, "Why?" "Because I don't like her" "okay... why are you telling me this?" "Because I saw you outside the classroom door," that's why, maybe he doesn't want you to get the wrong idea about because you always joke about that to him, "Right, Is tha—" "I also wanted to let you know that..." "That..?" "I know you like me, I knew from the start" ah. you thought you were being discreet about it, guess not. "Look. give me time, I'm trying to get over you. Just please— give me more time to get over you" you look up at him and tears begin to show up in your eyes.

The link haired boy looked at you and grabbed you by the cheek, he got near your eyes and wiped the tears that began falling out, "That's not what I meant." "Then what do you mean then?" "I need time to understand what I'm feeling for you, to make sure I'm not lying to you." was all he said, he turned to look the other way, hiding the fact that he's flustered, "And that means..." "It means we could be something more"

And on that night, snow began to fall from the sky on a nice December night.

And Maybe, just maybe, this wasn't a dream.

NAO SPEAKS? i lob my silly little pink haired guy :(

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Genshin men crushing is my life source <3

genshin men crushing on you !

SCARAMOUCHE who instantly thinks you want to be him when you enter his office. He who blushes intensly at your every physical touch. Once caught blushing, he immediately pulls up every excuse in the book. He denies his clear favoritism of you, pouting and crossing his arms, hoping you would get the memo to pinch his cheeks and let him see your smile.

ALHAITHAM who suddenly has every free time in the world when you arrive. He thought following you around in the city everywhere you go would send a clear message that he likes you. Purchasing anything you may need in every stall, making sure you were filled with items and hoping you will remember who bought them. Who cares about work anyway?

KAVEH who makes a future house for himself once he moves out, but can't help to add your favorite antiques and favorite designs dreaming that you would live with him in a domestic paradise. The way he includes you in all parts of his life, from eating fruit that reminds him of you, to romanticizing fantasy that he was a different person, unflawed and brave, whisking you away into a world only both of you know.

DILUC who always acts like a gentleman to everyone but cold statue to you. He just doesn't know how to act or feel, he was afraid of saying the wrong words or send a wrong message. But once relaxed he acts like a companion—an angel who comforts you in your lows and sometimes smiles and claps in your highs. He didn't need to try to make you fall, he just needed to be Diluc.

KAEYA who becomes a delusional man when you're around. You said hi? That means "I like you". Everytime he sees you staring at him, he would think it was intense stare of yearning even if it was just for a second. But once you try and approach him, all his confidence about your mutual feelings disappear. Does he look good? Did he say the right thing? But as he blushed and you laughed softly. He immediately thought. Are you in love with him?

CYNO who saw your presence in his TCG match and instantly beats his enemy in like 2 rounds. All of his premium jokes are to be said only around you, the basic unfunny ones can go to everybody else. They don't matter. Collei and Tighnari had enough about his gushing over you. It even went to how your exact shade of lips matched a random item he owns meaning both of you were soulmates. He needs help.