✶ everything he forgets to hide ⤷ caleb x reader synopsis: caleb’s affection stops feeling accidental when everyone notices except the person he actually likes.

the first time someone pointed it out, you laughed. your coworker had said it casually over lunch while stirring noodles without looking up. "caleb's obsessed with you," she remarked. "it's honestly getting embarrassing." you dismissed it immediately by saying he was nice to everybody, but she countered with "not like that." the alternative felt too strange to consider. caleb had been part of your life long enough to feel permanent. there was easy laughter during late shifts, coffee left on your desk before morning meetings, messages sent at impossible hours asking if you'd eaten yet. it was all familiar enough that none of it felt unusual anymore.

until suddenly it did. rain pressed softly against the office windows that evening, turning the city outside silver and blurred. most people had gone home already. fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead while your monitor glowed against tired eyes. you stretched and winced slightly at the ache in your neck. "there it is," came caleb's voice from the doorway. you looked up to see him leaning against the frame holding two vending machine coffees, his jacket damp from the weather and dark hair pushed messily off his forehead. amusement warmed his expression as he said "that face you make when you've been staring at spreadsheets too long." you snorted quietly and told him he spoke like he'd studied it. "maybe i have," he replied too quickly, and something paused strangely between you. caleb noticed it too. you saw it immediately in the way his smile faltered for half a second before recovering.

he crossed the room anyway and placed one coffee beside your keyboard, exactly the kind you liked without needing to ask. you murmured your thanks, and he mentioned you'd forgotten your umbrella that morning. when you confirmed you knew, he casually said "so i drove back to your apartment and grabbed it." you blinked slowly and asked him to repeat himself. he seemed genuinely confused by your reaction, explaining "you hate getting sick." rainwater still clung to his sleeves, reflecting the office lights softly. he looked tired too, though he always wore exhaustion lightly, like it mattered less than everyone else's comfort. your eyes drifted toward your favorite umbrella resting beside the door as something tightened quietly in your chest. you told him he really didn't have to do that, but he shrugged once, gaze slipping away from yours as he said "wanted to." there it was again, that strange sincerity underneath his usual teasing.

you started noticing things after that. how caleb always turned toward you first in crowded rooms, how his eyes searched for your reactions before anyone else's, the way he remembered tiny details you'd forgotten mentioning yourself like favorite snacks or headaches or appointment dates or songs you skipped in the car because they made you sad. once noticed, it became impossible to stop noticing. and apparently everyone else already had. "he looks at you like a wounded dog somebody finally fed," another coworker told you bluntly a week later, making you nearly choke on your drink. that same night, caleb drove you home through heavy rain and terrible traffic. warm air hummed softly through the car while old music played low enough to barely hear. he kept glancing at you at red lights, not subtly either. "okay," you said finally, turning toward him fully. "what is going on with you lately?" his hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel as he claimed it was nothing.

streetlights passed over his face in slow intervals, gold then shadow then gold again. then he laughed quietly under his breath, like he'd lost an argument with himself. "i'm trying really hard not to make this weird," he admitted. your heartbeat stumbled once as you asked him to clarify what he meant by that. after another silence filled only by windshield wipers dragging steadily across the rain, he parked outside your apartment building and leaned back in his seat with visible resignation. "i like you," he said softly. "like painfully." you stared at him while he rubbed a hand over his face, embarrassed now that the words existed out loud. "and before you say anything," he muttered, "yes, i know everybody already figured it out. apparently i'm terrible at being subtle." despite everything, a laugh escaped you. he looked over then, helplessly fond even through his embarrassment, and somehow that expression affected you more than the confession itself. outside, rainwater shimmered beneath streetlights while the car filled slowly with warmth and silence and the unmistakable feeling that something between you had already changed long before either of you said it aloud.

✶ ivykeeper’s note : i wish i had caleb irl thank you for spending time beneath the ivy walls ♡ interactions, requests & tiny thoughts are always welcome here. if you’d ever like to leave a small petal behind, my ko-fi helps support both this greenhouse & my education . . . 

✶ workaholic!alhaitham

workaholic!alhaitham who forgets meals but never forgets the exact time you usually come by. books lie open across the table in the amber evening light, pages marked with neat impatience. he does not look up when you enter, only slides a second cup of tea toward your usual seat. workaholic!alhaitham who claims interruptions are inefficient, yet never tells you to leave. rain gathers against the windows while you talk about trivial things and he annotates margins in silence. somehow, his pen slows whenever your voice does. workaholic!alhaitham who falls asleep upright over his desk once every few weeks and pretends it never happened. dawn catches on his lashes, pale and merciless. when you drape a blanket over his shoulders, he reaches back to keep your hand there for one second longer than necessary. workaholic!alhaitham who measures affection through practicalities. your favorite texts already copied onto cleaner parchment, a chair pulled closer to the lamp, medicine left beside you before you admit you are unwell. care becomes visible only if you know where to look. workaholic!alhaitham who grows irritable when exhausted, words clipped and colder than intended. later, after midnight softens the room, he appears beside you with fresh fruit and an apology so quiet it nearly disappears. you understand him enough to hear it anyway. workaholic!alhaitham who finally closes every book when you ask him to rest. the storm outside has passed, leaving the world washed and still. he lies beside you with obvious reluctance, then falls asleep first with his hand anchored around your wrist.

✶ ivykeeper’s note : alexa play work by fifth harmony :p thank you for spending time beneath the ivy walls ♡ interactions, requests & tiny thoughts are always welcome here. if you’d ever like to leave a small petal behind, my ko-fi helps support both this greenhouse & my education . . . 

✶ drunk!gojo

drunk!gojo who becomes strangely sincere the moment the room starts spinning. city lights blur beyond the windows while he stares at you like he has forgotten how to joke. when he says your name, it sounds almost fragile. drunk!gojo who insists he can walk perfectly fine, then sways into your shoulder with a laugh too soft for anyone else. the night air is cool, streets slick with recent rain. he keeps one hand on your sleeve the entire way home. drunk!gojo who talks endlessly until you start brushing his hair back from his face. then he goes quiet at once, eyes half-lidded, as if tenderness has always been the only thing capable of silencing him. even the taxi ride home feels hushed after that. drunk!gojo who gets possessive in the pettiest ways. suddenly your glass is in his hand, your coat is over your shoulders, your attention belongs beside him on the balcony under neon haze. he grins like it is all a game, but holds you too carefully for it to be one. drunk!gojo who confesses truths and denies them by morning. sometime after midnight, forehead pressed to your shoulder, he murmurs that he is tired of being untouchable. sunrise comes, and he only asks if he embarrassed himself. drunk!gojo who falls asleep sideways across your couch, too tall for the space and too trusting in his sleep. dawn spills gold through the curtains while you cover him with a blanket. his hand catches your wrist without waking, asking you to stay in the only honest language left to him.

✶ ivykeeper’s note : i am so nervous thank you for spending time beneath the ivy walls ♡ interactions, requests & tiny thoughts are always welcome here. if you’d ever like to leave a small petal behind, my ko-fi helps support both this greenhouse & my education . . . 

✶ after the sirens faded ⤷ leon x reader synopsis: after nearly losing you during a mission, leon finally confronts everything he’s been avoiding for years.

the apartment was too quiet without the hospital monitors. for three nights, leon had slept in plastic chairs beside your bed with fluorescent lights buzzing overhead and antiseptic stinging the back of his throat. now the silence of home felt wrong somehow, unfinished. rain tapped steadily against the windows while the city blurred beyond the glass. sometime past midnight, the radiator hissed softly through the old apartment, filling the spaces between breaths neither of you seemed willing to disturb. you sat curled into the corner of the couch beneath a blanket, one leg stretched carefully across the cushions. bruises darkened your skin in fading shades beneath the collar of your shirt. leon noticed every single one each time he looked at you, which was constantly. he stood in the kitchen pretending to make tea that had already gone cold ten minutes ago.

"you’re hovering again," you murmured. "am not," he said. you raised an eyebrow. leon sighed quietly into his cup. "okay. maybe a little." his voice sounded rough lately, tired in a deeper way than exhaustion. the mission had done something to him. you could see it in the way he checked locked doors twice now, in how his eyes snapped toward every sudden noise outside. mostly, you saw it in how carefully he touched you. before this, leon had always carried affection like something half hidden, subtle touches at your back guiding you through crowded rooms, fingers brushing yours during long drives, quick kisses before deployments that felt more urgent than romantic. he loved quietly, cautiously. but ever since pulling you bleeding from that collapsing building three nights ago, restraint seemed harder for him.

he crossed the room finally and handed you the mug without speaking. your fingers brushed his briefly, warm. his hand lingered anyway. "you should sleep," you said softly. "not tired," he replied. "leon." he looked away immediately at the sound of concern in your voice. that hurt worse than the bruises did. the lamp beside the couch cast low golden light across the apartment, catching on the sharp exhaustion in his face. stubble shadowed his jaw now. his hair still looked damp from the shower he’d barely spent five minutes in earlier. you watched him sit beside you carefully, leaving space at first. "they told me your pulse stopped for forty-three seconds," he said, his voice nearly disappearing under the rain. you felt your chest tighten. he stared down at his hands while speaking, thumbs pressing hard against each other like he needed the pressure.

"i keep thinking about it," he continued, swallowing once. "forty-three seconds is a long time when you think someone’s gone." you didn’t know what to say to that. leon laughed once under his breath, humorless and tired. "i’ve seen people die before. too many," he said, his jaw tightening slightly. "but when it was you..." he stopped there. the silence stretched warm and aching between you. then he finally looked up. there was fear in leon’s eyes, real fear, stripped bare enough that it startled you. "i can’t keep pretending this job means more to me than you do," he said. your throat tightened instantly. he reached into his jacket pocket with awkward uncertainty, like he almost changed his mind halfway through. then he held out a small velvet box that looked absurdly ordinary after everything that had happened. you stared at him.

"this wasn’t..." he exhaled shakily. "hell, this wasn’t how i planned to do this." "you planned this?" you asked. "for months," he admitted. his mouth twitched faintly, though his eyes stayed serious. "kept waiting for the right time. something normal," he said, glancing down briefly. "starting to think normal doesn’t happen for people like us." rainwater slid down the windows behind him in silver lines. you opened the box slowly. the ring inside caught softly in the low apartment light, simple and understated and completely him. leon watched your face instead of the ring, always you. "i don’t know how to promise you safety," he said quietly. "or easy years, or any of that shit people usually promise." his voice roughened slightly. "but i know i want every bad day and every good one with you." emotion climbed slowly into his expression, restrained only by habit. "so... marry me?" for a second, neither of you moved.

then you reached for his face carefully, fingers brushing along his jaw. leon leaned into the touch immediately, eyes closing for one brief moment like relief physically hurt. "yes," you whispered. his breathing broke softly. the kiss that followed felt nothing like the desperate ones from missions and near death and adrenaline. this one was slow, trembling at the edges. leon held your face like something precious and painfully real beneath his hands while rain continued falling quietly outside the apartment windows long after midnight passed.

✶ ivykeeper’s note : uhh i think i hate my roomie ? thank you for spending time beneath the ivy walls ♡ interactions, requests & tiny thoughts are always welcome here. if you’d ever like to leave a small petal behind, my ko-fi helps support both this greenhouse & my education . . .

✶ bestfriend!kaeya

bestfriend!kaeya who knows your moods by the way you close doors. on bright mornings he arrives laughing, but on gray ones he lets himself in quietly and starts making tea as if silence were another language you both share. he never asks what hurts first. bestfriend!kaeya who flirts with everyone and means almost none of it, except when his gaze lingers on you a second too long. candlelight turns his smile softer at the edges, easier to misunderstand. neither of you corrects it. bestfriend!kaeya who walks you home through rain with one umbrella held badly on purpose so he can stand closer. your shoulders brush every few steps. by the time you reach your door, both of you are damp and pretending not to notice. bestfriend!kaeya who can make you laugh on days you resent the world for existing. he says something ridiculous while the storm rattles the shutters, and suddenly grief loosens its grip enough to breathe. later, he grows quiet, as if joy costs him something too. bestfriend!kaeya who watches others court you with the relaxed posture of a man entirely unbothered. only his hand tightens around the stem of his glass, only his eyes go distant when you smile elsewhere. jealousy wears elegance well on him. bestfriend!kaeya who stays too late and leaves too slowly. midnight settles blue across the room while he stands at your doorway, saying goodnight three separate times. what he wants to say remains between the fourth and fifth.

✶ ivykeeper’s note : i miss my hb twt thank you for spending time beneath the ivy walls ♡ interactions, requests & tiny thoughts are always welcome here. if you’d ever like to leave a small petal behind, my ko-fi helps support both this greenhouse & my education . . . 

✶ husband!nanami

husband!nanami who wakes before sunrise and moves quietly through the kitchen so you can sleep a little longer. the kettle begins to sing, bread toasts, and the gray morning slowly warms around him. he leaves your cup exactly where your hand will reach first. husband!nanami who fixes the loose button on your coat without comment while you speak about something else entirely. rain gathers at the window behind him, soft and steady. by the time you notice, the thread is neat and secure. husband!nanami who comes home tired enough to say nothing, setting his keys down with more care than usual. you sit beside him on the sofa in the dim light, knees touching, silence doing the work words cannot. after a while, his head rests on your shoulder. husband!nanami who remembers every small preference as if they are sacred facts. less sugar in tea, extra blankets in winter, the song you skip when you are sad because it hurts too much. love, with him, is meticulous. husband!nanami who argues rarely, but when he does it is low-voiced and honest. no slammed doors, no cruelty sharpened for effect. later that night, he finds your hand beneath the sheets and holds it until sleep forgives you both. husband!nanami who looks at you across crowded rooms with the calm certainty of someone already home. candlelight, strangers, laughter, none of it reaches where the two of you stand. he only tilts his head once, asking if you are ready to leave together.

✶ ivykeeper’s note : thats my huzzband thank you for spending time beneath the ivy walls ♡ interactions, requests & tiny thoughts are always welcome here. if you’d ever like to leave a small petal behind, my ko-fi helps support both this greenhouse & my education . . .  

✶ midnight convenience store ⤷ gojo x reader synopsis: years of teasing friendship unravel quietly during one rainy night neither of you wants to end.

the rain had started sometime after midnight, soft at first before turning steady enough to blur the tokyo streets into reflections of neon and headlights. gojo stood beside you under the weak shelter of the convenience store awning, holding a canned coffee he hadn’t opened yet because he kept talking instead. "you know," he said, nudging your shoulder lightly, "normal people usually go home after work." you countered with "normal people don’t get dragged into overtime because their strongest sorcerer disappeared for three hours." he grinned immediately at that, replying "see? you missed me." your dry response of "i missed the paperwork you left on my desk" only made him laugh louder before calling you harsh. you rolled your eyes despite the smile tugging at your mouth, the way it always did around him eventually.

gojo leaned against the glass window behind him, tall enough that his head nearly brushed the bright store signs overhead. even dressed down in dark sweats and a loose jacket, he still drew attention without trying. his white hair looked slightly dampened from the rain, the blindfold pushed up carelessly now that the streets had emptied. when his eyes found yours again, you remembered why this was always the dangerous part. people thought gojo’s charm lived in his mouth, in the constant teasing and arrogance, but it lived more in moments like this quiet one, when he looked at someone too directly and seemed to mean it. "you’re staring," you pointed out, to which he replied "am i not allowed?" you sighed "not like that" and hated how he immediately asked "like what?" with that knowing tilt to his voice, always asking questions he already knew the answer to.

the automatic store doors slid open behind you, releasing a burst of warm air and the smell of instant noodles while an old radio played softly deeper inside over humming refrigerators. neither of you moved. gojo tipped his coffee can against your arm absentmindedly before commenting "you’re avoiding the question." when you retorted "because you’re annoying," he laughed with that infuriating confidence, declaring "you like me" which you could only grudgingly admit to with "unfortunately." his laughter softened at that, sounding more tired than usual as the two of you lapsed into silence, listening to the rain together. cars passed occasionally through wet streets, tires hissing against pavement while your damp shoes and his brushing sleeve created small but dangerous points of contact.

the flirting had started years ago as a joke neither of you bothered ending, evolving into quick touches and lingering looks threaded too closely to sincerity. everyone else had noticed it before you did, or maybe before you admitted it. suddenly gojo tilted his head, saying "come here" with no proper explanation. when you asked why, he claimed "your eyelash is doing something weird" which you pointed out wasn’t a proper sentence, yet still stepped closer when he insisted you trust him. his fingers touched your cheek carefully, making everything in you go still in surprise. gojo rarely hesitated physically, moving through life with effortless certainty, yet now his thumb rested near your jaw almost cautiously, his gaze fixed on your face with unusual concentration as he murmured "there." when you swallowed and accused him "there wasn’t an eyelash, was there" his mouth curved slightly as he admitted "no" with a quiet honesty that sent heat straight into your chest.

rain hammered harder against the awning overhead as neither of you stepped back from the moment. his hand lingered a second too long before falling away slowly, leaving you immediately aware of its absence when he looked down at your mouth then away again so fast it almost felt accidental, though you both knew it wasn’t. "we should probably go home," you said quietly to which he agreed with "probably" though neither of you moved. his expression softened into something smaller than flirting now, less polished, the kind of look that only appeared when he forgot to perform being untouchable. you watched his throat move when he swallowed before he smiled again, faint and crooked this time as he said carefully "if i kiss you right now, it’s gonna make things weird, huh?" your heart stumbled embarrassingly hard at the words, leaving you only able to whisper his name "satoru" which seemed to affect him more than it should have. his eyes held yours for a long moment, blue and unbearably open beneath the convenience store lights before, with visible restraint, he stepped back under the awning, admitting softly "yeah, thought so too."

✶ ivykeeper’s note : me n him when </3 thank you for spending time beneath the ivy walls ♡ interactions, requests & tiny thoughts are always welcome here. if you’d ever like to leave a small petal behind, my ko-fi helps support both this greenhouse & my education . . . 

✶ sick!leon

sick!leon who insists he is fine even with fever burning under his skin, voice rough and stubborn in the half-light. rain taps steadily against the apartment window while he tries to stand too fast and nearly sways. you catch his wrist before pride can. sick!leon who falls asleep sitting upright on the couch because he claims he is only resting his eyes. dawn finds him there with a blanket half slipping off, hair mussed, medicine untouched on the table. when you tuck the blanket higher, he leans into the touch without waking. sick!leon who becomes strangely honest when exhaustion softens him. between coughs and long silences, he murmurs that he hates being cared for because it reminds him how badly he needs it. the room goes very quiet after that. sick!leon who lets you press a cool cloth to his forehead, eyes closed like he cannot bear to look at tenderness directly. outside, the sky stays gray all afternoon. inside, he reaches up just once to hold your hand there. sick!leon who apologizes for being difficult after every small thing. for the mess, for the groan when he moves, for waking you in the night. you answer each apology by adjusting the pillows and telling him to sleep. sick!leon who wakes near midnight when the fever finally breaks, shirt damp and breathing easier. moonlight spills across the bed where you have fallen asleep beside him in a chair. he watches you for a long time before whispering a thank you you were never meant to hear.

✶ ivykeeper’s note : i wanna play re so bad thank you for spending time beneath the ivy walls ♡ interactions, requests & tiny thoughts are always welcome here. if you’d ever like to leave a small petal behind, my ko-fi helps support both this greenhouse & my education . . . 

✶ ex-husband!diluc

ex-husband!diluc who still leaves the porch lantern burning on nights it rains, though no one asks him to. the estate is too large now, too quiet, and he tells himself the light is for travelers. still, his eyes lift every time footsteps sound on wet stone. ex-husband!diluc who speaks to you with impeccable courtesy when you visit on business, as if tenderness were something that can be folded away with old documents. he pours your tea exactly how you used to like it without looking. neither of you mentions that he remembers. ex-husband!diluc who keeps your forgotten scarf in the back of a drawer he opens too often. winter mornings make the manor colder than it should be, and sometimes he stands there holding soft fabric like confession. then he shuts the drawer before anyone can see. ex-husband!diluc who cannot decide whether he misses you or the person he was beside you. dusk settles red through the windows, and he sits alone at the long dining table meant for two. regret has a way of taking up every empty chair. ex-husband!diluc who sees you laugh with someone else in the marketplace and feels something old reopen quietly. not anger, not jealousy, only the sharp understanding that life continued while he stood still. rain begins soon after, thin and cold. ex-husband!diluc who meets you at the door one late evening when the storm is too harsh to travel through. he steps aside before pride can speak, takes your soaked coat without a word, and sets another cup beside the fire. some loves end loudly. others simply wait.

✶ ivykeeper’s note : lov ya :3 thank you for spending time beneath the ivy walls ♡ interactions, requests & tiny thoughts are always welcome here. if you’d ever like to leave a small petal behind, my ko-fi helps support both this greenhouse & my education . . . 

✶ things he leaves behind ⤷ sukuna x reader synposis: a reckless frat boy starts changing quietly, terrified he’ll ruin the only person who ever stayed.

the first thing that changed was the smell of his apartment. it stopped smelling like stale beer and smoke sometime in november, around the same time the weather turned cold enough for people to linger indoors instead of shouting across campus lawns at two in the morning. when you stepped inside now, there was detergent in the air, coffee, something clean. sukuna opened the door before you could knock twice. he looked tired in a way that felt unfamiliar on him, not hungover, not irritated, just worn thin around the edges. "hey," he said. his voice came quieter these days too.

you stepped inside slowly, peeling off your damp jacket while rain ticked softly against the windows. the apartment lights were dim except for the kitchen lamp, no music, no television, no voices from drunk friends wandering room to room. "you cleaned," you said. he glanced away. "yeah." there was a pause. "didn’t know if you’d come over otherwise." the words landed awkwardly between you, honest enough to sting. months ago, sukuna had been impossible to imagine like this. he used to laugh too loudly, drink too much, disappear for days without answering messages. there had always been girls around him, noise around him, chaos orbiting him like something inevitable. people excused it because he was charming when he wanted to be, because he knew exactly how to look at someone and make them feel chosen. you hated him a little for that once. maybe you still did.

he took your wet jacket carefully this time, hanging it over a chair instead of tossing it somewhere careless. another small thing that had changed. "you hungry?" he asked. "i made noodles." you blinked at him. "you made noodles?" "don’t look so shocked." you almost smiled. the kitchen smelled faintly of garlic and broth. there were two bowls already sitting on the counter. he must have expected you to come despite everything, despite the fight last week, despite the things you’d said to each other outside his fraternity house while people smoked and pretended not to listen. you remembered the way his face had hardened when you told him he ruined everything good around him eventually. the worst part was how quietly he’d answered. "i know."

now he stood across from you in gray sweats and an old sweatshirt, fingers flexing restlessly against the counter while rainwater crawled down the windows behind him. "you don’t gotta forgive me," he said suddenly. you looked up. his eyes stayed fixed on the bowl in front of him. "i know i was..." he exhaled once through his nose. "shit at this." the silence stretched. "why are you trying now?" you asked softly. that finally made him look at you. for a second he seemed almost angry, but it faded fast. what remained looked worse. uncertainty sat strangely on him, like he hated wearing it. "because i got tired of seeing you look disappointed every time you looked at me." your chest tightened unexpectedly. he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, gaze slipping away again. "and because i think about you all the time now. which is annoying as hell." a small laugh escaped you before you could stop it. his mouth twitched faintly at the sound, not quite a smile.

outside, thunder rolled somewhere distant. the apartment felt warm despite the storm, heat humming softly through old vents. you noticed there were textbooks spread across the table now instead of liquor bottles, unopened mail stacked neatly by the fridge, a grocery list stuck to the cabinet with a magnet. proof everywhere, quiet proof. "you don’t have to become a different person," you murmured. sukuna looked at you for a long moment. "maybe not," he said. "but i gotta become someone that doesn’t make you miserable." the honesty of it hurt more than any apology could have. you stepped closer before you could think better of it. he went still immediately, eyes tracking every movement like he didn’t trust himself not to ruin this too. when you touched his wrist lightly, his breath caught. such a small thing. still, he looked at you like it mattered. "you’re trying," you said. "yeah." his voice sounded rough suddenly. then, after a hesitation that felt painfully careful, he leaned down and pressed a brief kiss against your forehead, restrained, uncertain, nothing like the careless confidence he used to wear like armor. when he pulled away, he stayed close enough for you to feel the warmth of him in the cold apartment light. and for once, sukuna didn’t seem afraid of silence.

✶ ivykeeper’s note : i love pretty boys like sukuna bby thank you for spending time beneath the ivy walls ♡ interactions, requests & tiny thoughts are always welcome here. if you’d ever like to leave a small petal behind, my ko-fi helps support both this greenhouse & my education . . . 

✶ jealous!jing yuan

jealous!jing yuan who smiles too easily when others speak to you, the kind of smile polished enough to hide the storm underneath. later, when the evening lanterns burn low, he adjusts your cloak himself and asks if you enjoyed the attention in a tone far too gentle. the question matters more than he lets on. jealous!jing yuan who never interrupts, only watches from across the courtyard while rain gathers along the stone paths. his gaze follows every laugh you give away so carelessly. when you return to him, he offers his hand as though he had never doubted you would. jealous!jing yuan who grows quieter instead of colder. he sits beside you on the balcony at dusk, shoulder warm against yours, and says nothing for so long that silence becomes apology and accusation both. then he rests his head briefly against yours, choosing closeness over pride. jealous!jing yuan who asks small questions with dangerous softness. who was that. how long have you known them. did they make you laugh often. he pours tea between each one, steam rising like patience wearing thin. jealous!jing yuan who dislikes how transparent love has made him. once, nothing reached him unless he allowed it. now one careless touch from someone else on your sleeve can ruin the shape of his whole afternoon. jealous!jing yuan who finally confesses it in the dark, voice low and almost amused at himself. he says he does not fear losing battles, only losing places he has come to call home. then his fingers find yours beneath the blanket and stay there till morning.

✶ ivykeeper’s note : reuploading this too thank you for spending time beneath the ivy walls ♡ interactions, requests & tiny thoughts are always welcome here. if you’d ever like to leave a small petal behind, my ko-fi helps support both this greenhouse & my education . . . 

✶ touch-starved!neuvillette

touch-starved!neuvillette who never asks for affection outright, only lingers a second longer beside you in the kitchen while the kettle hums. dawn light turns the counter silver, and he stands close enough for your sleeve to brush his wrist as if by accident. he says nothing when you take his hand, but the rain outside softens at once. touch-starved!neuvillette who pretends to be reading while you rest against him on the sofa. pages remain unturned for nearly an hour, his gloved thumb tracing the seam of your sleeve with absent care. the room is dim except for one lamp, and he looks almost startled by how peaceful he feels. touch-starved!neuvillette who wakes in the middle of the night to make sure you are still there. moonlight spills across the sheets, pale and cold, until he reaches for your waist and finds warmth. only then does he close his eyes again. touch-starved!neuvillette who listens more than he speaks, storing every careless gesture you give him like treasure. the way you fix his collar, the way you lean into his shoulder during long carriage rides, the way your fingers tap twice against his palm before letting go. he carries each one through lonely afternoons. touch-starved!neuvillette who becomes quietly possessive of ordinary routines. tea shared at four, your hand on his arm while crossing wet streets, your knees touching beneath the table during late dinners. love, to him, is repetition chosen daily. touch-starved!neuvillette who looks almost embarrassed when you kiss his temple in passing. evening rain beads against the windows, and he follows you from room to room afterward under the excuse of conversation. neither of you mentions it.

✶ ivykeeper’s note : reuploading :3 thank you for spending time beneath the ivy walls ♡ interactions, requests & tiny thoughts are always welcome here. if you’d ever like to leave a small petal behind, my ko-fi helps support both this greenhouse & my education . . .