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undermine-the-instinct · 2 years ago

Text

Title: Poison On The Tongue

Head advisor reader held the same vote as Noble reader at 7.5%, yet this one has the highest word count so far. Kinda popped off on this one ngl, just a little.

Wc: 3k Warnings: Talks of Murder and Arranged marriage.

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The plan is almost ready to go, and you're glad, not nervous. You tire of this meeting, long and droll as it has been, and maybe these people would be more behaved if the king was here. The Prince is young, and they think that means he is weak and naive.

What fools they are. You'll be glad to wheedle them out.

Young, does not mean soft, and the prince has a spine of steel, and bored molten eyes. They keep trying to tie back to the idea of pushing him into marriage. Your eyesight bleeds red every time you think of those eyes trained on another, but he doesn't even look at you, or entertain these notions. A muscle under his eye twitches.

You are satisfied with this response, it is right and appropriate. Nevermind the tiny crush you have in the prince, never mind that. You kinda wish he would mind.

He dismisses these proposals and stays focused on internal affairs, allocation of funds, taxes. Unlike other times the council members are persistent, and you know it's because the king is not here, and this is the first meeting His Highness has attended without him. They think they could take advantage.

Councilman Amar has been staring at his Highness's cup, glancing back to it on and off. He wrings his hands, and sweat is beading on his brow.

"--a tax cut for the nobles would only encourage the commoners into dissent. It does no good for anybody."

"But we may pad up the royal coffers in case of an emergency."

"What sort of emergency?"

"Like a royal wedding--"

"Councilwoman Nathalia, no. On the contrary, we should–"

You're not worried about Amar. He is new to the council, and soft spined, and you knew he would not last. He had earned the position through nepotism after all. And there were others he had to prove himself to.

Prove himself useful for. And Nidi had been growing anxious, with the people's growing annoyance with him, so of course he'd go after the bait. He's been in the council too long, with far too little favor and good work. He, amongst them all, has been pushing the prince to marriage the hardest now, even bringing some insipid list of suitors to look over. He annoys you greatly.

Finally, your prince meets your eyes, and you know the cue.

"Councilman Amar, you've been awfully quiet. You don't have any remarks?" Amar startles, just slightly, from his seat, and you watch as he tries not to stutter.

"No, nothing to add."

"Is that fact? Considering your father, your predecessor's, principles, I'd figured you'd be all for a tax cut."

"O-of course, that would seem so, but points have been made and I've changed my mind."

"Then why are you so anxious? You've been staring at His Highness for some time now. Is it about his potential prospects for marriage?" The room's eyes fall on him, and his shoulders hunch. But he trudges on.

"I'm just curious. And worried."

"About?" You say, encouraging.

"The council has been pushing for His Highness to take a spouse for years now. I hear that many have offered their own hand, or their children's, even among the council. But he has refused them all. I'm worried that this will create...animosity all around." You see Nidi frown at the young man, the confusion in his eyes.

"Councilman Nidi has been pushing especially for this. As a senior member in this council, I worry what makes him so worried to be in such a rush, or what tension this will spark, with that you repeatedly brushed him off, Your Highness." He mumbles towards the end of his sentence. A shy and meek man, his tongue is certainly blunt and careless. Council members silently shoot each other incredulous looks.

"There is no need for conflict or animosity in the council." The Prince speaks, sighing over his words.

"There is no need to worry. Councilman Nidi is a respected and long standing member of the council, so I will take him for his word if he says there is trouble. Councilman Nidi, what say you?"

Nidi strokes his beard, and tries to look humble. Fails.

"I agree wholeheartedly. Trust must be nurtured and fostered, and the young folks should defer to their elders' wisdom. Especially when they say a crisis is in the rise. That is how you learn and pass down knowledge."

"Of course, of course." Al Haitham traces the rim of his cup with a finger, almost droll.

"Councilman Amar?"

"Yes?! Your highness?" He stutters.

"Tell me, where is my Father?"

"Your…? His Majesty is currently out of the country, foreign affairs."

"So tell me, who is the highest ranked official here?"

"You, Your Highness."

"And then."

"The High Advisor." You perk up like a smug cat. You think you see the prince's mouth twitch.

"And then Councilman Nidi amongst the other senior members, am I correct?"

"Yes, Your Highness." The people are currently looking amongst themselves, confused, while you sit back and enjoy the show. You're sure your grin does not ease their worries.

"Councilman Nidi, before we were talking taxes, you proposed a list of people that I could court. Among the list is your daughter."

"Well, yes. My daughter would be a lovely partner for you, Your Highness."

"Compared to the many princesses and Queens and warriors and such, no, she wouldn't be. Your army is not particularly large and your land is run just adequately. She wouldn't even be a safe choice. Considering other senior members have eligible children and greater might or forces, more land. Or the nobles and royalty all vying for me. No significant gains on my end.

"Meanwhile your daughter would be a princess, and eventually queen of the realm. She'd probably try to bear a child of mine quickly to secure her role. And then…"

"...Then?" He swallows.

"What is to stop her from planning my assassination?" The room gasps, and falls into murmurs, but he continues.

"Your daughter has been married before, hasn't she? Your eldest son as well. You married them off quite young, and how strange that they are both widows. With no children. Councilman Amar, did your sister say anything about her husband?"

The scandal is unfolding at a rapid rate, and you're loving where this is going. You can't hide the mirth in your eyes when Al Haitham meets yours for a quick second.

"My sister was married to Councilman Nidi's eldest son. She was a timid, kind soul. She often spoke of how standoffish her husband was, and weeks before her untimely death, she rejoiced over the sudden change of heart he had. He was suddenly kind and attentive and loving. She died quietly in her sleep, leaving behind a small fortune. Councilman Nidi and his two children arrived at her funeral to give their condolences."

"How strange that your daughter's husband died the same way! No one batted an eye though because he was so old, I'm pretty sure people were actually relieved because your daughter was so young, freshly fifteen, yes?" You smile, blood in the water. "So young. Another young widow left behind with a small fortune." You pop in, leaning your cheek in hand.

"How strange."

"I see where this is going." Nidi is not far from you, and he smiles bitterly. He leans back in his seat, still stroking his beard.

"I understand your concerns and suspicions. But I assure you, I'm only trying to assure my daughter's future to a man well off and mature enough to treat her well. My son and daughter in law had tragic deaths, but not by design."

"Is that so!" Nidi laughs at your question. It wasn't a question.

"My children are well off through their own fortunes, and my own, to not covet your position, Your Highness. Furthermore, I can assure you I would never make an attempt on your life."

"Not you directly, of course, but perhaps someone you thought you could manipulate into doing so, perhaps. Like the meek brother of your late daughter in law? Who us still in mourning? Councilman Amar." Only now does Nidi's face truly pale, and his hand clenches under the table.

"He wanted me to put this," Amar pulls out a small vial from his sleeve, "into His Majesty's drink. But once it was made apparent that the king would not be able to attend, he told me to set my sights on His Highness."

"Preposterous! I don't even know what that is!" Nidi yells, shooting from his feet and slamming his hands on the table. You click your tongue.

"Allow me to speed up your memory then." This is where you shine. You stand from the table and slowly walk your way around it, languid and stalking.

"It's essentially an aphrodisiac. With His Majesty's frail condition, it would increase his heart palpitations, which would be a common side effect of the potion. Which would rule his subsequent death as a heart attack. But with the prince, it would work as intended, giving you time to introduce your daughter, who is on her way to the capital now, who would surely fall for the prince with his own…condition."

You trail your hands over the backs of chairs you pass, even daring to brush the napes of the people in them. They shiver under your touch and gaze. Head advisor. Snake of the court. The Prince's Witch.

"But, you never told Councilman Amar how much to put in his drink, did you? You told him to put the whole vial in the King's drink, but didn't change the order when you switched your sights to the prince. Him not knowing such a strong dose would also incapacitate His Highness."

"If that was my plan, how would I benefit from that?"

"He wouldn't immediately fall ill. Your daughter would have enough time to lay with the prince. After all, it's an aphrodisiac, not a love potion." The old geezers' faces turn red, and you snicker under your breath.

"With the fertility potion you bought her, she'd be sure to fall pregnant, and with the prince out of commission, and the king frail, she'd have the chance of being named queen consort, pregnant with the future king or queen." You wave your hands in a show, stopping behind the prince.

"Voila."

"I don't know what nonsense you're spitting. How do you even know what that vial is? Or what potions my daughter has been taking?!"

"Why, because they are the one supplying you." Al Haitham steeples his hands together.

"Their potions and spells are the highest quality, we both know. And that's what you were aiming for, yes?" Al Haitham beckons and Amar reaches over to place the vial in his hand.

"You said it's important to foster trust, yes? Then let us all drink from the same cup." He pours in all the contents of the vial, topping it, then mixing it all with his sugar spoon.

"Also, your daughter has been supplied with a truth potion and not a fertility potion. We'll question her when she arrives."

"Wait!!" Al Haitham pauses with the cup halfway raised to his lips.

"You accuse me, but how do we even know if it's safe? What if it is instead a poison that he switched it with to frame me, hm?" Stupid man, he looks so victorious.

"Fine then, I'll test it." You take the cup from the prince's hand, and take a swallow. It's mellow, and sweet, just like you made it. It's not poison. Even if it was, you could've countered it.

"It's fine. Just like I made it." Al Haitham nods, and takes it back to take a sip. He holds it out for Amar, who also takes a swallow.

"Take a sip, Councilman Nidi." You encourage, placing your hands on the table. You're caging the prince in a little, but his eyes are sharp and focused on the man, and not on you. Too bad. Atleast you got the indirect kiss.

"..."

"You'll be fine. We have our esteemed witch here, and they'll make sure you'll survive. We still have to hold you and your children for questioning after all." Nidi glares, balefully at councilman Amar whose face suddenly breaks out into a grin even wider than your own, its such a delightful look, and you laugh, nodding at Nidi to take the cup. He's not off the hook.

Nidi gulps, but looks at you all, and takes the cup. There is only a slight tremble to his hands as he brings the cup to his lips and takes a sip.

Immediately he drops the porcelain, and it shatters the ground while he coughs and splutters. You walk smoothly to him while he chokes.

"Just like I thought." You grab the back of his head and face him towards the prince, who hums in thought, his analytical brain at work.

"The tongue and the drink have turned black. It seems your extra ingredient worked."

"Of course it did."

Al haitham stands, and addresses the room.

"Councilman Nidi will be detained and held for questioning, along with his children. As for the rest of you, you will be subjected to the same potion as he has. If you are truthful and hold no malcontent for the crown, you will be let go. If you refuse, you will not be forced but you will be detained. You will be tested immediately."

He claps his hands once and the guards spring to action.

They grab Nidi, who is still sputtering but no longer choking, and the rest of the room is anxious and tense. You hand the other vial you were holding towards the prince, who takes it upon himself to put a few drops in everyone's drink.

A guard taps your arm, and nods towards the doors. You follow her, and you step out to find Cyno waiting for you. He wears a simple cloak, with a fine layer of dust. There is a wariness always present in his eyes.

"General Cyno, you're back earlier than I expected."

"Hunting nobles is easier than hunting ragabonds and illegal rings. I have all the evidence." He hands you a folder that was under his arm, and you take it gingerly. Inside, you find what you were hoping for.

"Well, that's one more piece of vermin out of our court. Nidi and his children can easily be put on trial with this."

"I'd rather call them snakes."

"Oh? And what would you call me?"

"A king snake. You eat your own kind." You grin and look at the general. Only now do you see how worn he is, the bags under his eyes. He hasn't even made a joke yet.

He mistakes your staring for questioning. "They were sneaky, but grew careless. Leaving plenty of breadcrumbs."

"Good. We'll tell you if we need you and your people to investigate any of the others. Al Haitham is testing them now."

As if on cue the doors open, and a couple of guards are dragging away black tongued advisors, spluttering on their own lies and deceit.

"Got it. Nidi's children are already detained, but they still need a fair and thorough process. They'll be questioned and brought to court."

"Thank you Cyno. Take a nap, take a bath, relax. We'll deal with it till you've rested."

"You know I'm not going to do that." He sighs, pinching his brow. You feel worry pool in your belly. Footsteps step behind you, and Cyno glances over your shoulder.

"I'll bring you the report later. See you." He turns, but you stop him with a hand to his shoulder.

"Hey, Cyno, " You ask. "Did…something happen back there? You don't seem yourself." He looks over your shoulder again, but nods.

"It will all be in the report." And he just leaves.

Al Haitham appears at your side.

"I suspect the others weren't working with Nidi. His plan seemed to only include himself and his children, but we won't know until we question them all. The rest are fine." His voice is low and steady, nearly monotonous.

"After this ordeal, they must be shaken. We must be sure to reward the others for their good behavior, lest they grow bitter. Any ideas?" You ask.

"No. I can't really think much of anything right now."

"Well that's very much not like you-" you cut yourself off when you look at him, and you want to smack yourself.

Of course! He just took an aphrodisiac. His skin is flushed and beaded with sweat, and his pupils are blown out. He doesn't pant or writhe but his eyes feel heavy on your skin, and his hands clench and unclench by his sides.

"Oh, goodness, here, I have an antidote." You reach for the bottle in your sleeve, but his wrist grabs yours before you can pull it out.

"What…?"

"Is there enough for everyone back there?"

"...A good amount, but no. I'd have to run back to my supplies."

"Why didn't you bring enough?"

"I figured more would be guilty. When the tongue turns black the aphrodisiac effect is negated, and the whole body has a sort of burning, pins and needles feeling. I thought I'd leave them like that, but more are innocent than I supposed." Al Haitham sighs, and releases your wrist to pull at his collar.

"Then I won't take it till everyone has had theirs. They'd be furious and feel betrayed if they thought we purposely made them suffer longer." His sharp eyes cut to you, and you jolt a little.

"Why doesn't it work on you? Is it because you made it?"

His eyes are finally on you, and you are trying not to blush or wriggle like a worm. You'd thought you'd be more charming when the time comes!

"Because... it's an original recipe. I've tested it on myself so many times I'm immune to this potion."

"...You've tested it on yourself?" Oh my stars why did his eyes dilate like that. You really hope you're not blushing.

"Of course? Who could I involve with something like this?" He opens his mouth to speak, but he closes it just as fast. You don't know what he was about to say. You're not sure you want to guess. You don't even notice he was reaching for you until he lowers his trembling hand.

He turns his back to you, and starts walking back towards the council room.

"I'll wait with the others then. Hurry up with that antidote, will you?" There's a tenseness to his shoulders and you nod, even if his head is only half turned towards you. The muscles in his back are poised, like he's ready to spring.

"Oh, and one more thing," he stops you right before you run off.

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"You said that your own aphrodisiacs won't work on you. Would any others work?"

"Um…yes? Since I wouldn't have had a hand making them. So I wouldn't have immunity unless I had a hex on…? And even those don't last long."

"...Alright. Duly noted." He walks off before you could question why he asked that, and you run off to get more of that antidote.

He finally put his eyes to you and it was like nothing you had daydreamed about. Maybe you don't have immunity to your potion, because your heart is certainly pounding a mile a minute.

Taglist: @tigerpriestess @hypernovaxx @certaindreampost @tanspostsblog @escapeis

#my stuff #my writing #Prince!Al Haitham #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #al haitham #genshin al haitham #reader insert #poll results #Head Advisor!Reader #witch!reader #Al haitham x reader #al haitam x reader #al haitham x you #al haitham x y/n #al haitham x witch reader #genshin al haitham x reader #genshin au

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asscandles · 4 years ago

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Hello !!! I really liked ur writing (also the fandoms you do are chef's kiss) and i wanted to request for Mondo, Togami and Fuyuhiko (separately of course) with a very touchy (short 👀 I'm like 5'0") reader, who likes to squish their cheeks, hug them and give lil smoochies, sit or have the boys sit on her lap and other stuff like that? (It'd be cute if it were a mutual crush situation but I don't mind platonic either) Thank you sm in advance if you write it !!

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ!! ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴇᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴛ. ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ ʟɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴀᴛ��ᴏɴꜱ!

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ + ꜱᴜɢɢᴇꜱᴛɪᴠᴇ

Mondo Owada

Honestly, he never thought he would ever be in this position.

Him? The Ultimate Biker Gang Leader? Receiving a constant supply of affection?

Ridiculous. Improbable. Impossible.

Oh, but don’t get me wrong. It’s not like he doesn’t enjoy the attention. But after he accidentally shouted at you in embarrassment when you complimented his eyes, reflexively crushed a pencil and consequently showered you with the splintered wood when you ambushed him with a hug, and fled from the premises after you innocuously offered to massage his shoulders… the idea of you sticking around in his life seemed unfeasible.

But here you are.

It doesn’t take him long to grow accustomed to the attentiveness and devotion you always treat him with.

“So, we should close off this area and tighten our control around this neighborhood. Oh, and maybe--”

“Uh, sir? What’s… um… What’s..?” One of his men tentatively pointed to where you were clinging to Mondo’s back, legs constricted around his waist and arms looped around his neck, blinking blankly at the man standing before you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Mondo didn’t even flinch. “Anyway, as I was saying--”

Mondo really doesn’t mind when you cling to him in public. In fact, he appreciates the warmth of your body and the unexpected sense of security that holding your hand gives him.

But, he starts to draw the line when you stand in front of him while he’s sitting, smiling sweetly as you squish his cheeks and giggle about how adorable he is. He always flushes a florid shade and averts his eyes from yours. He would never tell you, but whenever you do that, he feels so defenseless, something that the rest of his crew should never know about.

That’s why he tells you to keep such intimate actions private. When you two are alone, you can squish his cheeks and pepper his face with kisses as often as you want. You understand this, and you’re always ecstatic whenever you walk in on him somewhere he’s alone.

You’re so short he loves it omg.

He thinks that watching you struggle to reach his face with your lips is so funny. He will often poke fun at you by either pretending to not see you or lifting his chin even higher. When you finally give up and try to storm away with a huff, he captures you in his arms and lifts you off the ground while you grumble indignantly.

Okay, but when you press yourself against him and wrap yourself in the loose fabric of his jacket so that it covers both of you? BITCHHH he melts.

Due to your short stature, you often find yourself seated upon his shoulders. At first, Mondo was taunted by his friends for quote-on-quote “having his head buried between your thighs,” but Mondo easily dismissed their teasing. He knew that your intentions were nothing less than pure…

Even if he initially was nervous and sweaty at the idea of being so… so close to you.

Mondo always treated you as if you were made of glass. Since you’re so small and he’s so muscular and tall, he always feared that a single bump or scratch would absolutely eviscerate your bones and pulverize your internal organs. For a while, he had been worried that he would forget about his own strength and accidentally hurt you. So, it did take him a little longer to reciprocate your affectionate.

That being said, he nearly flipped his shit when you nonchalantly asked him to try sitting in your lap. His brain was pumping out ideas at ninety miles an hour, but his lips could only communicate half of them, leaving him stuttering and nearly choking on his saliva. He was certain that he would crush your body beyond recognition if he tried.

No way. No. No. Absolutely not.

He’s cool with having you seated on his lap, though. In fact, he even encourages it. Having such a stunning gem to show off to his men during meetings stokes the flames of confidence within him, often resulting in a shit-eating grin and a protective hand on your shoulder or around your waist.

You get unlimited access to Mondo with his hair down, you lucky bitch.

You’re absolutely bewitched with how soft his hair is as it slips through your fingers like rivulets of water, the opposite of how it feels when it’s gelled into his usual hairstyle. You spend a lot of time combing your fingers through his hair and lightly scratching his scalp. Mondo finds it extremely relaxing, and he often comes to you whenever he has a headache or needs an extra push that will lull him to sleep.

Byakuya Togami

Before you appeared in his life, he had never been subjected to genuine love and sentiment. In his world, it was either surpass or be surpassed. Mercy was not an option, and competition was all he knew. As a result, he views everyone around him as inferior and lesser creatures.

When you first started to show kindness to him, he thought that you were merely pitying him because he spent so much time by himself. This led to him holding you at an icy distance and shooting scathing remarks in your direction.

However, you were steadfast in your determination to make Byakuya a part of your life. It took some time, but soon enough, you had earned a place in his heart.

He wished that he didn’t know how it was possible for you to have become such an essential part of his life, but he did. No matter how many times he told you that you were annoying, a distraction, or disgusting, it was clear that you were absolutely unaffected by it. You knew that his dislike of you wasn’t personal. Your tenacity is what caused his harsh words to dissipate in his throat and him to surrender to the prospect of developing a relationship with you.

You were strong, and he understood that now.

It definitely takes him a long time to accept your clingy nature, and even then, he sometimes feels suffocated by the surplus of affection.

It doesn’t mean that he completely brushes you off. It just means that you have to be more sparing with your ministrations.

He sees nothing wrong with allowing you a quick hug or to hold his hand in public. If anyone says anything about it, he will deadass act like nothing is happening. He knows that if he acknowledges it, the chances of him becoming openly flustered will skyrocket.

He would never be able to live it down.

Anything else you would like to do to him, he prefers to keep it private.

Wow, that sounds suggestive.

Whatever, let’s proceed.

He’ll gripe and complain about you being heavy, but he never pushes you off or directly tells you to get off when you burrow your way beneath his arm and curl into his side while he reads. He’ll just sigh and settle his arm around you with the tiniest, most discreet smile.

He can’t help but chuckle to himself when you remove his glasses so that you can wear them instead. His chuckle flourishes into a genuine laugh when you promptly yank them off, your stomach churning in protest of your warped vision.

When you hold his hand in private, you pay a lot of attention to his fingers. You toy with them, marveling at how strong they are despite their slender appearance.

So, kisses are a thing.

“What was that?”

“Uh, a kiss.”

“Revolting… Do it again.”

A common thing, actually.

You plant kisses everywhere that you can: his fingertips, his cheeks, his shoulders, the back of his hand, his nose. He never fails to blush red as a rose, often pulling away and pressing the back of his hand to his mouth.

If you want him to complain in mock disgust, press a sloppy, prolonged kiss right in the center of his forehead.

If you want him to squirm, brush the softest kiss you can manage to either his collarbone or the shell of his ear. Biiiitchhhh…

ANYWAY, THAT’S NOT THE POINT--

Surprise, surprise. He loves poking fun at your height. How shocking. How absolutely unbelievable.

Like Mondo, he finds amusement in watching you balance on your tiptoes as you try to kiss him. You, however, combat his devious snickering by seizing his crossover tie and yanking him down to your height, catching him off guard. Then, all he can do is inwardly grumble about his blunder while you press a kiss to the corner of his lips

He once actually sat on you to trap you after you tried (and failed) to tickle him. He wasn’t expecting you to laugh gleefully and wrap your arms around his waist to anchor him to you. Since you were enjoying what he deemed a punishment, it was no longer pleasurable for him. He finds it embarrassing to voluntarily sit on anyone’s lap--let alone the lap of someone remarkably smaller than him. He sees it as a role of submission. Need I explain more?

He won’t complain if you sit on his, though. Well, I lied. This bitch complains about everything. It’s more like… he won’t reject you if you end up on his lap.

But about a half hour into whatever the hell this “cuddling” thing is, Byakuya discovers that the combination of your weight and body heat is an interesting catalyst for the onslaught of fatigue that he’s been procrastinating for the longest time.

You happen to doze off first. But upon awakening, you notice that Byakuya’s head is resting against yours, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist. His book is closed beside him.

Ngl, you thought he was actually going to rock your shit the first time you squished his cheeks. His frosty glare was enough to make you draw back in shock, but it soon disappeared, accompanied by a sigh from him.

“You have one more opportunity to do that. Don’t waste it.”

Oh, you definitely don’t.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

Someone is???? Smaller than him???

!!!!

That one inch of height makes him feel so powerful omfg.

Because of his job, he would rather keep any kind of affection hidden behind closed doors. The only people who he would let PDA slide around are those in his immediate circle, like his family, Peko, and whoever else serves directly under him.

He just wants to keep you safe, and he feels that the best way to do that is to not make it known that he has a soft spot for you.

You smile at the way his aloof, callous demeanor switches to a gentler, more amicable one when he sees you waiting for him to finish whatever job he’s been tasked with. His perpetual scowl melts away, the wrinkles of irritation blemishing his forehead smooth, and his distrusting, narrowed eyes round with an almost childlike, innocent delight.

You enjoy the latter side of him so much that it isn’t uncommon for you to cling to his waist and drop like dead weight, forcing him to drag you with him across the floor if he wants to return to work.

“Hiko… You can’t leave..!” You whine. “I’ll miss you..!”

“I’m sorry…” He huffs, taking another step while you’re dragged behind him like some ragdoll. “But I have things I need to take care of!”

You eventually sink into a heap on the floor when he reaches the door, making a half-hearted attempt to hold on to his ankles.

He chuckles and squats down in front of you. “I’ll be back later.” You sit up and sharply turn your head away with a pout. He gently yet firmly seizes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, directing you to look at him. “Promise.” His eyes are gentle, but you know he’s serious. You reluctantly release him.

“Okay,” you mumble. “Please, be safe.”

You know the, “When I was your age…” thing?

Yeah, Fuyuhiko does that shit. But, he does, “When I was your height…” instead.

A fucki.ng pO w e R trip.

He really likes the feeling of having you on his lap. It makes him feel like he’s actually capable of offering security to someone. Bonus points if you straddle his lap and hug him close in return, resting your chin on his shoulder.

Back-hugs? Back-hugs.

The first time you snuck up on him and embraced him from behind, he almost knocked you tf out. But over time, he’s gotten used to it. That doesn’t mean you don’t manage to catch him off guard from time to time. Feeling him jolt and hearing him yelp in shock when you wrap your arms around his waist never fails to make you laugh. One time, you laughed so hard that your legs gave out and you tumbled to the ground, accidentally dragging him with you.

Whenever he’s stressed, kisses always seem to be the cure. Sprinkled across his cheeks, tracing the edge of his jaw, following the shell of his ear, pressed to his fingertips--you name it. Whatever you have to offer, he’s more than happy to let you have your way and shower him with love.

You pay special attention to his freckles. Whenever he’s had a taxing day, you vow to kiss each and every freckle on his face. When you’re lulling him to sleep with his head in your lap, you smooth a feather-light fingertip over his cheeks, playing connect-the-dots with his freckles.

But there are just some days where he needs to be the baby, y’know? On those days, he likes laying with his face pressed into your stomach and his body curled into your embrace. You watch over him lovingly, tracing the designs shaved into his hair with a curious finger and slowly massaging his scalp.

He needs reassurance every now and then, verbal or otherwise. You are always more than willing to oblige, filling whatever role he needs at the moment.

He always takes necessary precautions, such as locking the doors and drawing the curtains, before he allows himself to strip his soul bare and lay all of his impurities before you. This is a side of him that no one else must know about. Otherwise, his reputation would take a massive blow.

Speaking of “baby,” it’s no secret that Fuyuhiko positively despises his baby face. You, however, adore it. You like to squish his cheeks and coo about how cute he is. He never resists you, and will even play along by puckering his lips at you if he’s in a good mood. It doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t like his face, but if you seem to be fond of it, then maybe it’s not all that bad.

But if anyone else even thinks about touching him in such a manner, then that’s it.

Their ass is grass.

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