#i think i’m losing my voice ( *・°☆ OOC )

[shotoh]

— in which they slowly find themselves enamored by the natural charms of their interviewer

feat. itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, itoshi sae

cw + tw. nothing much just fluff, fem!reader, interviewer/reporter!reader, aged-up!characters, characters are professional athletes and continue playing in their teams from the neo egoist league (except sae)

notes. first time posting blue lock so apologies if anyone’s ooc, either way i might make a follow-up of this (that might be more uh ya know) and/or add characters

ITOSHI RIN

the sound that follows the harsh slam of his locker is a frustrating sigh that has been simmering in rin’s chest since the end of today’s match. the match in which he had lost—and at the hands of isagi’s team which makes the defeat all the more bitter and disgusting on his tongue. it didn’t help that during the game, he was butting heads with his supposed teammate, shidou. once the coach had decided to sub the eccentric player in, their styles began mixing like oil and water. as a result, their win was swooped up from under them.

pxg has been called to host a post-sport interview to review the match with reporters, but rin couldn’t care less to participate. instead, he’s the very last person to leave the locker rooms. his duffle bag is slung over his shoulder, steps ambling down the hallway.

whether he wins or loses, rin never bothers to attend these post-game interviews. he doesn’t need to sit there and have brash reporters shoot the same questions at him, expecting him to “thank his coach and teammates,” “praise his opponents for a great game today,” and say he’ll “continue to work hard to win next time.” gross. he’d rather be caught dead than have any of those words leave his mouth.

as rin navigates through the hallways of the stadium, he’s hoping to be done with the day and think over the turn of events on his own. but when he rounds the corner, he crosses eyes with someone so obviously lost in the facility—a mistake which punishes him as you immediately approach him with doe, bewildered eyes.

“sorry, i don’t mean to bother you, but i was wondering where the conference for pxg was being held,” you ask. a pad of notes are cradled in your arms, pen clipped to the breast pocket of your blazer. it’s clear you’re another reporter.

before he can point you in the right direction to get you out of his hair, you squint. you’re taking a long, hard look at him until your face suddenly glows. “wait, you’re itoshi rin, the striker for pxg!” you practically blurt. with the volume of your voice, rin’s instincts take hold, and he’s pulling you away from the open space of the hallway.

“quiet. you want everyone to hear?” rin chastises.

“whoops. i got a little excited! i-i’ve been wanting to interview pxg’s top player and well…” you could say the opportunity presented itself, but rin makes it clear he’s not interested.

“if you’re here just to hear me mope over my loss, then go home,” the striker affirms to what he thinks will be the last of this exchange until you tug on the sleeve of his jersey before he starts walking away. turning his head back to glance at you, his brow quirks.

“no, of course not! i thought it was incredible how you were able to keep control of the ball from your opponents and even score the first two points of the game all by yourself!” you exclaim, face lifting as it’s teeming with admiration. surprisingly, he can’t help but be a bit amused by the determined expression etched over the perplexed look that was originally on your features.

you swipe your pen hanging off your pocket, prompting it open with a click of your thumb. “and i’m sure a lot of your fans would love to hear from you!”

the athlete cocks his head. “you’re acting like a fan yourself, miss reporter.”

you blink in surprise. the enthusiasm in your words tones down, but you fail to mask it completely. “what? no, i’m just here to get the exclusive on the best athletes of our country!” if your plan is to butter him up to get a word out of him, it may almost work. you send him another fawning look as if to say “can you blame me though?” and that stirs a low chuckle from his throat.

his face lowers until it’s slightly more leveled with your own, and from this angle, you’re amazed to find you can distinguish every distinct eyelash on his pretty face. and you’re even more enamored by the intense color of his teal eyes. at the proximity, however, your face bathes in the heat of the blood rushing to your cheeks. thankfully, the striker breaks eye contact in favor of taking the notepad from your arms, along with your pen which he uses to scribble something down.

“tell you what,” he says as he continues writing, “come to the next pxg match and i’ll give you an exclusive interview, right after i score at least four goals and decimate the other team.”

his declaration leaves you in awe, and your fascination persists when he hands your pen and pad back for you to see a ten digit number, followed by call my manager written next to it.

NAGI SEISHIRO

back when he was in school, nagi was never great at first impressions. and apparently that’s still the case even later on in his career as a professional striker.

he doesn’t even notice you enter the room as he’s preoccupied with tapping the controls for the first person shooter on his phone. as such, he’s woefully unprepared to hear the reluctant, but soft voice that vies for his attention.

“um, excuse me. if you don’t mind, i’d like to get started with the interview.”

taking a slow glimpse above his screen, he sees the refreshing sight of you—his interviewer—sitting across from him in your neat attire and a clipboard on your lap. surprised by the modest smile that greets him, he automatically straightens up and casts his phone to the side.

it’s a big contrast to what he was expecting. usually, scruffy men who claim they’re adept and knowledgeable in the sport would be shoving their mics in his face. when in reality those people are just washed up high school coaches or analysts who act all high and mighty by asking a bunch of nonsense questions. saying this and that about how they would have done it differently had they been in the game instead of him. regardless, they’re such a pain and nagi would rather be napping in his cloud mattress than go through another talk session with those wannabes. however, his encounter with you just might break this boring streak.

he rubs the back of his head sheepishly, playing off the crass first impression. “right. start whenever you want.”

once he gives you the go ahead, you flip through a few pages to your questions.

as time goes on, the sentiment nagi initially held about how the interview might have been a pain and a waste of his time in his already packed schedule begins to sway. throughout the inquiries, he finds himself fixated on you. like the flattering nude color touched up on your plush lips. or how you have a habit of playing with strands of your hair when contemplating on what question to ask next. or the cute laugh you let out that was pleasant to his ears when he gave a much more aloof answer than you were expecting.

well, he can’t change the fact that he doesn’t need to think much when it comes to football. that’s just how naturally talented he is—the sport is second nature to him. honestly, he’s a bit bummed out that he can’t give a competent interviewer like you better responses.

what catches the snowy haired striker slightly off-guard is your next topic of questions about his e-sport endorsements. he wasn’t expecting you to delve into his hobbies. most interviews always glossed over that area in favor of asking something along the lines of “what was going through your head when you made that winning goal,” to which he could only say he was too caught up in the moment to really convey the feelings into words.

but with this opportunity, nagi goes on a mild tangent about the new first person shooter he’s been playing. even if his tone sounds indifferent on the surface, you don’t miss the hidden enthusiasm under the brighter twinkle of his eyes. you giggle which makes nagi pause.

“did i say something weird?” he asks back. you swear you detect a tonal whine in his voice, another endearing trait you didn’t know a 190 cm striker could possess.

“no.. just find it cute how much you can talk about your favorite games like that.”

nagi can’t tell whether the grin on your pretty lips is there to tease him or that you find his boyish charms endearing. either way, his cheeks puff and that only serves to make him more adorable in your eyes.

“well don’t let me stop you! i’d like to hear more about what things interest you other than soccer.” the look on your face fascinates him. you’re not even looking at your clipboard anymore, but right at him. it’s the tell-tale sign of someone who genuinely wants to know him not as the star player of manshine city, but just as regular nagi seishiro. he’s not used to that sort of treatment and as a result, he can’t meet your eyes, not realizing he flushes a lovely shade of pink that reaches the tips of his ears.

nagi pouts, glancing down at his phone that’s been laying near his thigh, untouched for a record of what must be ages, but that honestly doesn’t feel long enough to him. “no fair… you’re just teasing me…” he murmurs, but his fingers are already itching to ask his manager if he can extend the interview to spend more time with you.

ITOSHI SAE

the first opportunity you get to interview the itoshi sae is unconventional, to say the least.

“excuse me! please let me through–!”

“miss, you can’t be here– hey!”

the setting is chaotic, to the point where sae can make out the commotion in the background as he’s walking toward his rest area with his manager and bodyguard following beside him. when he glimpses at what all the fuss is about, he witnesses security personnel wrangle with a stray reporter.

spotting the reddish haired athlete, you find an opportunity to call out to him. “itoshi sae, please, may i have a word with you?”

to your dismay, security persistently blocks your view of the midfielder. despite being obstructed by a pair of burly men almost twice your size, you give them more of a struggle as you thrash around, even reprimanding them to “keep their hands to themselves if they know what’s good for them.” sae can’t help but be amused. a part of him finds your efforts admirable—watching you scrunch up your uniform and crease your notes at just a chance to speak with him.

“mister itoshi is far too busy to entertain any more of you today. please make your way to the exit–”

“it’s fine,” sae interjects to everyone’s surprise—mostly to the utter astonishment of you and his manager. the latter’s eyes widen scrupulously before he cups his hand next to the pro athlete’s ear.

“sir, i believe we’ll be running late to your next scheduled event if you decide to do a last minute interview,” the manager warns warily. “besides, haven’t you talked to enough of the media today? i mean look at her, she doesn’t even seem worth your time–”

“push everything back thirty minutes if you have to.”

his manager gawks. “but..?!”

one side-eye of sae’s piercing ocean eyes is enough for the man to retract his statement and mumble his apologies. that said and done, the security guards withdraw to let you through. you’re astonished by how much the situation can flip with the cooperation of a renown professional.

sae’s staff lead you into his spacious break room, preparing a set of chairs and leaving glasses of water on the coffee table before you start. having already taken his seat, he watches you run your hands through the wrinkled material of your blouse and pencil skirt. after finally fixing your stray hairs in place, you sit in front of him in all your pristine as if the whole conflict from earlier never happened. he wants to give you another point for professionalism.

“once again, thank you so much for granting me the opportunity to speak to you today,” you beam, mocking his manager hovering in the background with your unbeknownst-to-sae sly little smile.

sae grins, charmed. you arrange your notes one last time before moving onto your questions.

during the interview, sae comes to know your professionalism isn’t merely for show. you’ve done your research, analyzed his plays—his techniques, and as a result, ask him the most intriguing inquiries he’s sure no reporters asked him before. and he’s had his fair share of interviews throughout his developing career as a child prodigy. it’s evident you weren’t planning to waste his time and he’s appreciative of that fact.

there’s also an air of zeal you possess that allures him. he can’t exactly pinpoint what it is. your ingenuity? your liveliness? either way, he can’t imagine this to be his last interaction with you, and he makes sure that won’t be the case.

at just a simple snap of his finger, his manager is at his side. you have to hold in a snicker at how the man scurries over to the midfielder like a dog.

the two exchange a few words you don’t catch, only deciphering the dumbfounded look on the manager’s face which clashes with the stoic expression on sae’s. whatever the conversation was about, the former knows it’s a losing battle. at his loss, he pulls out a lanyard from the compartment attached to his clipboard. he gives it to sae, who takes it and leans across the space between you two to place it in your awaiting hands, as if you already knew from the manager’s defeated mannerisms that it was meant to be yours.

“this is..?” you begin inquiring as you eye the card on the lanyard methodically.

sae beats you to your discovery of that answer. “an exclusive press pass, which you can use to reach out to me again following any matches i’ve played in.”

mouth hanging open, you switch back and forth between the pass and sae’s marine eyes which don’t hold a shred of doubt.

he puts it simply.

“i’d like to continue this interview with you again.”

copyright 2023 shotoh, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated anywhere else so please do not repost this or share my content on tiktok.

[narizaki]

bad habits   suna rintaro x reader

―   tags   gender neutral reader,   fluff,   childhood friends to lovers

―   notes   wc is around 1.2k,   maybe ooc suna,   thank you for 100 followers, here's my gift to you <3

rintaro has many bad habits.

he’s well aware of them — so much so that he has a mental list of them. number 5 on the list is how he gets lazy during volleyball matches whenever he knows his team is in the lead. number 4 is how he never bothers to even attempt to mediate fights. though, he figures that one hardly counts as a bad habit, seeing as it’s the result of spending years around the miya twins. they would rather die than let anyone but kita or their mother get in between of their debacles. 

“tell me a secret, rin,” you hum into the phone.

you and rintaro have ingrained late-night phone calls into your routines after graduating high school and separating your own ways. with him working as a professional volleyball player, you hardly see each other anymore. he's always too busy with traveling and training, despite the fact you still live in the same city. although he knows you’d never tell him, he’s aware that you were upset when he began to have less and less time to talk to you. after all, he hadn’t spent the majority of his life with you to not know what makes you tick.

so, even though he’s stumbling over his own feet walking home, he’s still on the phone with you. he vaguely understands what you say before spouting out the first thing he thinks of — another bad habit of his.

number 3: he loses his filter when he’s tired. 

rintaro never had much of a filter to begin with, but his reserved nature essentially acted as one. he was certainly less blunt than people like kita and atsumu. as the years passed, though, it was made apparent to him that he became more curt with his words when in dire need of rest. he surmises that it’s something that happens to everybody, though, so he forgives himself for it.

“you know, i used to like you when we were kids,” he mumbles. “actually, it lasted until high school.”

you sputter on the other end, choking on your water. rintaro laughs at your incessant coughing.

“that was not funny! and, what? suna rintaro, are you drunk right now?” you yell into the receiver. the volume of your voice makes him wince, forcing him to tug his phone away from his ear. regardless, he laughs a little harder.

“full name? what happened to rin?” he almost whines, kicking a rock. you grumble on the other line. “and i’m not drunk.”

“rin,” you sigh, and he smiles at the nickname. “i know you like to fuck around with people, or whatever, but this isn’t something to joke about.” your tone is serious, almost scolding. rintaro only frowns. he’s not lying. he wouldn’t lie about something like this. he couldn’t, especially to you.

“i’m not joking, i swear. i did like you… or, still do?” he thinks aloud, questioning himself. rintaro is barely registering what he’s saying — mind fuzzy from the harsh day. his coach was particularly unforgiving today, leaving him sore and tired as he drags his feet back to his apartment. still, he continues. “yeah, still do, actually.”

“rin,” you say, exasperated, “you like me? as a friend, you mean?” 

even in his slightly delirious state, rintaro can tell you’re trying to save face — for you or for him, he’s unsure. what he does know is that you’d never thought he’d see you in a romantic light. it was his fault, really — you’d always been a hopeless romantic, but rintaro knew you’d considered him off-limits. aside from your long-term friendship, there was also his disinterested approach to dating. 

if only you knew how wrong you were.

he was never uninterested in dating — he just always had his eyes on you. that was where another bad habit of his shone through — number 2: he never tells anyone, anything. that, mixed with his hard-to-read demeanor, meant that nobody truly knew how he felt about you. of course, those around him could tell that you were close. everybody knew that you and rintaro had grown up together, so it was only a matter of time until people started assuming that the two of you had something more. while rintaro never gave those people the time of day, you’d always nervously deny their pries.

atsumu and osamu would always tease him (and sometimes, you) about it, but they quickly learned to give up once they saw his feigned indifference toward the subject and your immediate rejection to their statements. his default response was to brush them off — he’d rather die than give the twins out of all people anything to use against him, especially if it was about you. he’d never see the light of day again if miya atsumu was found teasing rintaro about something.

“rin? hello?” your voice echoes throughout his head, forcing rintaro into reality. 

“yeah, sorry,” he mumbles. he’s considering taking his word back — telling you that yeah, he does mean it as a friend. but he decides that he’s already too deep in and fuck it, he’s going to tell you. 

“i do like you…more than a friend. i have for a while, and i know it’s my fault that you had no idea, but i guess i’m telling you now?” rintaro grimaces at the uncertainty in his own voice. he’d always been so sure of himself — or, at least put effort into appearing as such. you’ve always been the exception to that, though, and he supposes that’s a fact that’ll never change. 

a beat of silence passes until you reply. 

“yeah. it is your fault.” you breathe. 

suddenly, all the air is gone from rintaro’s lungs. it forces him to stop in the middle of the sidewalk, shoes skidding against the concrete. his grip on his phone tightens, and he’s considering mumbling out some half-assed excuse about how he is, in fact, drunk. he’ll pray that you believe him, so he can run back to his apartment and maybe actually get drunk before pretending that everything is okay.

thousands of thoughts run through his head. some of them are about how he’s going to play this off, while others are about where you stand with him now. is this what being a setter feels like? having to go through hundreds of different situations to decide what will bring the best outcome? how shitty. he vaguely feels sympathy for atsumu. 

that is, until your laugh fills the air around him. 

“but you’ve told me now, so i think you should turn around.” 

he spins on his heel, coming face-to-face with you. your appearance is disheveled, looking as if you just ran to him — which, you did, based on the harsh breaths you’re taking — and you only have a thin t-shirt and sweatpants on. your phone is still by your ear, grinning at him. it’s childish and hopeful, reminding rintaro of the smiles you would send his way when the two of you would play on the swings during recess. he adored them just as much then as he does now.

rintaro has many bad habits. he’s aware of them, and despite what others may say, he’s come to terms with them.

but as he rushes forward and cups your face into his hands, he knows what he’d say if someone were to ask him what his worst habit was.

number 1: he can never say no to you.

[genshin-obsessed]

POCKY I HAVE A NEW IDEA 👀

With any of the boys you feel like writing for:

(Both star rail and genshin are fine! But if you could include Cyno and perhaps Gepard that would be lovely <3)

Reader who accidentally loses their engagement/wedding ring. Maybe they took it off to shower and it got lost or (if you want angst) they got into a serious accident/were kidnapped/etc. and it was lost in all the excitement. In any case reader feels terrible about it and is crying and apologizing to him and we get lots of comfort at the end hehe

✧ Ooh I chose to do both fandoms! This sounds super cute and fun! This was a lot more fun than I thought it would be! I hope you like it ✧ Includes: Cyno, Kaveh, Alhaitham, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Blade. ✧ Extra: I think I’m starting to like my ooc Blade… also it's a bit lengthy!

✧ ─ GENSHIN IMPACT ─ ✧

» Cyno «

Cyno had actually had the ring custom made. It was one of your few cherished possessions. You looked at it multiple times a day. Any friend you met, you’d happily show them the ring to which they just chuckled. Newly engaged couples tended to do that.

You did your best not to take the ring off willy nilly. If there wasn’t a reason for it to come off then it didn’t need to come off. You also placed it in one place if you ever did take it off, in a jar on your nightstand.

You… weren’t sure what the hell happened but the ring kinda vanished. It was one minute and then it wasn’t. You knew you didn’t take it off. But it was gone.

At first, you were in denial. There was no way it just disappeared like that. But it wasn’t on your finger, so where was it?

You had practically destroyed your bedroom in search of that ring. The fact that it wasn’t on your finger was sending so much anxiety through you, it was bringing you to tears. You hadn’t even realized what ruckus you’d caused since you were too busy in your own head.

“(Y/n)!” A loud voice called, finally breaking you from your trance. You looked up to see Cyno standing there with wide, concern-filled eyes. “What happened? Did someone hurt you? Are you ok?”

When you saw him, you started crying even harder, feeling the guilt well up in your chest. You knew it was difficult for Cyno to have that ring made and you just went and lost it like an idiot! You covered your mouth, trying to muffle your sobs.

Cyno, on the other hand, was also panicking, wondering if his simple entrance had ruined your day. Of course that sounded ridiculous so he slowly approached you, grabbing your shoulders.

“Hey, hey, ok, just- just breathe, ok? I won’t understand anything and I can’t help if you keep crying like this.” It took you a good five minutes before you were able to calm down enough to explain what happened.

“I-I lost the ring.” You managed how, holding your hand up to show your finger with the ring missing. Cyno felt both relief and sadness. He was relieved that nothing serious had happened such as someone threatening you, hurting you, or someone you loved. But he was also sad that you lost the ring- mainly because of how much you were crying. He loved how much you loved the ring, but it was never worth this many tears.

Cyno sighed and took that same hand, placing a kiss on your now lonely ring finger. He leaned in and kissed your forehead too, giving you a hug.

“It’s just a ring, my darling. I know you loved it- and I’m happy- but I don’t want you to cry this much over it. It’ll be ok, we can find it. Or get a new one.” You immediately shook your head at his last offer.

“No, I want that one. I don’t want a new one.” You said, looking up at him. He smiled a little at your stubbornness.

“Ok, then let’s start looking.”

It took a little while- almost an hour- before you two were able to find the ring. Apparently, you had placed it in the drawer of his nightstand accidentally and didn’t think to check it because you don’t usually touch his things. You felt a little silly but you were over the moon to have your ring back.

» Alhaitham «

Alhaitham’s ring for you was nothing short of magnificent. Everyone noticed it without you saying anything as it was so eye-catching.

Because of this, you were extremely careful when going anywhere alone. The ring was no doubt expensive, and you didn’t want to take any chances.

The thing was… sometimes people just followed without you realizing. Normally, if you were Alhaitham, he’d notice almost immediately. You on your own, however, could not do that.

You hadn’t even realized it but there was a thug in front of you demanding you hand over anything of value to him.

You scrambled to give him all the money and jewelry you had, hoping he’d let you go free. Then his eyes fell on your beautiful, sparkling ring. You felt your heart sink as he pointed to it.

“That too- gimme that too!” He yelled, wanting to show you that he wasn’t scared or in the mood to waste time. You slowly shook your head, feeling the fear spreading further through your body and solidifying your legs to the ground.

“Please l-let me keep this, I gave you everything else.” You said, tears blurring your vision, forcing you to blink to get them out.

“No, no, I want that too. You either hand it over or I take it off your corpse.” He growled, glaring at you. Realizing that Alhaitham would be even more angry knowing you put yourself in harm’s way, you found what little courage you had and slid the ring off of your finger. Your hands were shaking and there was a vice grip on it because you didn’t want to lose it. But eventually… you let go. The thug took it and ran off, leaving you standing in the dark, crying.

It was almost ten minutes later when you found yourself having the energy to walk back when you saw an extremely worried Alhaitham racing towards you.

“(y/n)! Where have you been?! Do you know how worried I was?!” He yelled as he instantly engulfed you in his arms, squeezing you almost too tightly. You hugged back immediately, needing that comfort desperately. 

Finally, you mustered up the courage to tell him that you’d given up the ring. Willingly. Kinda. 

“Good,” Alhaitham said, making your eyes widen. “It’s better than your life. I could buy a thousand rings like that, but I only have one of you.” He said as he took your face, gently wiping your tears away. “You did the right thing, we’ll get you a new ring.”

His words did bring some level of comfort to you, but you still felt a little guilty for having lost such a beautiful ring.

“W-what if I want that one? And only that one.” You asked, sniffling a little. Alhaitham smiled, kissing your cheek.

“Then we’ll get that one back.”

As promised, Alhaitham didn’t rest until he caught the thud, making sure to retrieve all of your items- especially your ring. He also made sure he was the one who slid it onto your finger- again.

» Kaveh «

Kaveh’s ring was intricate and on the inside, had an engraving which translated how much he adored you and that he would forever. That ring was something you cherished so much. You showed him every single day how beautiful it looked. He just chuckled and nodded, always kissing your ring finger.

You tried to keep the ring on your finger 24/7, making sure it washed well with every hand wash. You didn’t like taking it off very often, always worrying it might just get lost.

If you did take it off, you actually kept it in sight. Placing it in the center of the counter and making sure it would just fall off or something.

One day, you’d had a particularly busy day and you were pretty exhausted. You’d remembered taking your ring off for a minute to wash up but when you came back… it was gone.

All that exhaustion was gone and suddenly, all you felt was panic and dread. Where did it go? Where did the ring go?! You looked everywhere you possibly could, trying not to think of the worst. But with every passing second you couldn’t find the ring, those thoughts invaded your mind and all you could see was a very angry Kaveh.

You began to tear the entire room apart, throwing things around as you started to search in every nook and cranny. Of course, you didn’t realize Kaveh was even in the room until he grabbed your shoulders, making you scream.

“It’s me! What are you doing?” He asked with a look of concern as he gestured to your shared bedroom. You paused and started looking around- it was a disaster. Everything was everywhere and it would take hours to clean up.

“I-I’m sorry…” you mumbled in a small voice, wiping your cheeks. Kaveh’s expression didn’t change but he took both of your wrists and slowly pulled you to the bed, stepping over all the clothes and items.

“Sit.” He said as he grabbed a water bottle from off the floor. He took off the cap and held it out to you. “Just take a second and tell me what’s wrong.” He said before he kneeled in front of you, rubbing your thigh a little to comfort you.

You sipped the water, taking a few deep breaths to calm down so you could actually explain what was going on. You could see just how worried he was- not to mention, you could see the slight redness and glossiness in his eyes. Kaveh hated it when you cried- if you cried hard enough, that pain transferred to him and sometimes… he’d tear up a little.

“I lost the ring.” You said as you showed him your left hand. “I-I just set it down and I don’t know where it went.” You sniffled feeling the tears come back, but Kaveh grabbed your hands and kissed your ring finger.

“It’s ok, love. We can find the ring if it’s in here. But there’s no reason for you to be this upset. It’s just a ring, I could get you another one.”

“No, I want that ring.”

“What if I got you a ring that looked exactly like it?”

“It’s not the same one. I want that one- not another one.” You said, frowning at him. Kaveh only chuckled and nodded, standing up and lifting your head to kiss your lips.

“Ok, then let's start looking.” 

It took a grand total of two and half hours for you to clean up everything and finally find the ring. It had landed under the bed, right next to the leg hiding from view. You were so happy that it was back on your finger that you swore you’d never take it off no matter what. Kaveh just felt better knowing you were ok and happy again.

✯.⋅ HONKAI STAR RAIL ⋅.✯

» Gepard «

Your engagement ring was like your most prized possession. You looked at it every single day since Gepard had proposed and almost never took it off. Even after a month, it was still the most beautiful piece of jewelry you owned.

You were still very careful with everything you did, treating it like glass at times. You even had little covers on the drains so it never fell down the drain. Your worst nightmare was the ring falling down the drain.

There were times you did take it off. Drying your hands was easy without the ring so when you washed your hands… you took it off.

You had ended up getting distracted and when you came back… it was gone.

Panic. Full fledged panic. You looked everywhere you possibly could for that little ring but it was just gone. You even went through the phase of looking at your own hands as if you could forget the feeling of the heavy gem on your hand. 

At this point, you were in tears- absolutely distraught. That’s when Gepard walked into the room.

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong?” He asked with a frown as he walked to you, seeing your state. He was extremely concerned as you were safe in your home so nothing could've happened. But he'd seen too many things to not start panicking a little himself.

“I-I lost it! I can’t find it- I looked everywhere!” You yelled, the tears just pouring down your cheeks. Your heart was beating out of your chest, especially now that Gepard was here. You weren't able to find your ring before he came home.

“Wait, ok, breathe.” He said as he took your shoulders and made you look at him. “Just breathe for a second. What did you lose?” 

You took deep breaths but held up your left hand, showing the missing ring. Gepard frowned and now he understood what made you so upset. 

“Ok, ok, don’t cry. We can find it. We’ll find it, so please don’t cry.” He said as he reached up and dried your tears. He knew the ring meant a lot to you but he didn’t realize how much. It was sweet… but he also hated it when you cried.

“It was s-so expensive! And I-I lost it!” You said as you looked around as if you'd just end up spotting it or something. 

Gepard sighed and shook his head, making you look at him. His warm thumbs slid under your eye to catch the oncoming tears.

“So? Besides, we’ll find it so there’s no reason to cry this hard. Come on, we’ll look all day if we have to.” He said, kissing your forehead. You could feel the intense relief, knowing he wasn’t angry at you or disappointed in you. Now you just had to find the ring. 

And you did. It had fallen and landed behind your desk. It was hard to see with how little room there was between the wall and desk.

» Blade «

You loved that ring. Honestly, even after a month or so, you still hadn’t gotten over how beautiful the ring was. You adored it.

When you took your engagement ring off, you had a special little box you put it in. You closed it and locked it every single time.

This particular time you were a bit busy and frazzled. You weren’t thinking and you just realized the ring wasn’t on your finger. So you went to your box to get it. 

It was gone. Like it grew legs and walked off! Panic set in immediately because there’s no way you left it anywhere else.

“Ok, ok, just… breathe.” You told yourself as you took slow, deep breaths. They were so forced that it made you even more anxious.

Tears blurred your vision as you tried to think where you could’ve left it. No location came to mind- only a very angry Blade. God, you were so irresponsible! That ring was so expensive and you lost it about a month after getting it!

So you began to tear apart your bedroom in a desperate attempt to find the ring. That’s when Blade walked in, but you were too busy to notice him. He looked around both confused and concerned.

“What the hell…?” His voice makes you yell as you turn around and his eyes widen a little at the sight of your tear-stricken face. “What happened? Are you ok?” He asked as he walked to you, stepping over the items thrown about.

“I-I lost it. I’m sorry! I’ll find it so don’t worry! I’ll look everywhere.”

“I’m sure we can just buy it again.” He said in his usual monotone as he began to wipe your tears with a tissue he grabbed from nearby. He had no idea what you were talking about at first, but if a missing item made you this upset, then he'd just get it for you again. Simple.

You just held your hand up to show the missing ring making him stare for a moment. Oh.

“Yeah, I can buy another one of those too.” You shook your head, sniffling. 

“N-no, I don’t want a new one. I want that one.” No ring could possibly compare to that first one. You refused to give up. If someone stole it- highly unlikely- you’d find them and take it back. You were that desperate.

“Fine. We’ll find it then but you’re not gonna see anything with all those tears in your eyes.” He said as he dabbed your eyes again. He wrapped an arm around you, giving you a tight hug, rubbing your back. It upset him when you cried… so now he really had to find that ring. 

You two eventually found it, you’d actually left it on the kitchen counter when you were going to cut the chicken, not wanting to get any on it. You didn’t put it away because it was only a few minutes that you’d be busy.

Somehow, the ring had fallen onto the ground and rolled under the counter. When Blade found it, he made sure to be the one to slip it back onto your fingers, asking if you felt better now that you had the ring back. You did. 100%.

» Jing Yuan «

The day Jing Yuan proposed to you was one of the happiest of your life. You flaunted that ring everywhere to the point where some of his friends were concerned you might get attacked for the ring. It was definitely expensive.

Removal of the ring was near impossible, you didn’t take it off for any reason. If you were doing something that might stain- you wore thick gloves. But taking that ring off never happened.

It was endearing for Jing Yuan. He’d often catch you just staring at it with that goofy smile on your face. And it brought him a world of joy. He was worried you wouldn’t like it.

But right now… you kinda wished you had been a bit more careful. You showed off your ring too much.

“A-and the ring! Gimme that ring!” The man said as he pointed his gun at you. You were willing to give over anything except that. You covered your ring with your hand and shook your head.

“N-no… no, I can’t give you my ring.” You said with a frown.

“I’ll kill you! Give it to me!” He threatened and you were terrified but you shook your head.

“Please don’t take it. You can take everything else just n-not my ring.” You said with the tears in your eyes. Your hands were shaking and your heart was pounding in your chest. 

A yelp escaped your lips when the barrel of the gun touched your forehead. All you could do was stand there as he reached over and slid the beautiful ring off your finger and scoffed. 

“Idiot.” With that, he ran off. You were frozen in fear, unable to move or breathe as if you were wondering if he’d return. 

You heard yelling only a few moments later but it didn’t matter to you. You just stood there, feeling the anger and frustration in your heart. Why didn’t you do something else!? You just stood there!

“(Y/n)!” A voice called but you were too busy in your thoughts. “(Y/n)!” You only registered the voice when you felt your shoulders move. It was Jing Yuan. He looked both angry and terrified as he tried to bring you back from your shock. “It’s ok, it’s just me.” He said when he saw you flinch.

You wasted no time hugging him so tightly as you felt a pang of guilt. You lost the ring. You never listened and now the ring was gone. You could just cry as he held you, trying his best to give you a moment. 

“H-he took it! He took m-my ring!” You said, barely able to breathe. 

“Shh, it’s ok, it’s fine. I’ll get you another one.” He said as he felt his own heart break at your distress.

“N-no! No, I want that one!” You said as you looked up. He frowned as he took your face and wiped your tears.

“Ok, I’ll get you that one. I promise, just please don’t cry.” Jing Yuan wasn’t one to cry but if you were crying this badly, then his eyes do get a little teary as well. He feels your pain, no matter what kind. Once you were calm, he made sure to take you back home, assuring you his men were out looking.

Eventually, you two were met with good news. The mugger was arrested only an hour or so after the crime and all your belongings had been taken back by the knights. Including your beloved ring.

[grimmsbride]

❛Stuck to the screen, your words repeating. ❜ ⸺ Kamo Choso

【⠀♱⠀】 SYNOPSIS. after a long night of gaming, choso helps you fall asleep with his.. soothing voice.

【⠀♱⠀】 WARNINGS. ooc choso | soft dom! choso | phone [more like voice chat] sex | not public sex but there was the threat of reader’s friends joining since it’s a public vc | porn no plot | reader & choso are gamers | mutual pining | mutual masterubation | overuse of pet names | choso is a tease | choso uses “mama” idc idc, it fits him [TO ME] | etc. if i forgot something let me know.

【⠀♱⠀】 AUTHOR’S NOTE. it’s the way i’m thinking about other things except piv sex, which is very exciting cause the shit got repetitive on my other acc. PLEASE EXCUSE ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES.

People that claimed gaming was a perfect past time were either naive or just plain stupid. How could one find the competitive, and nerve wracking hobby peaceful? There was always something going wrong. Whether having an awful teammate,a a bad day, or even— something as silly as bad luck.

Personally you didn’t love video games. You had no plans of getting shouted at by grown men over a digital creation, which stats didn’t affect you in real life. But.. as your friends usually did, they lured you into gaming.

Quickly too, giving you tips and tricks to assure you didn’t drag the rest of them down. And as much as you hated to admit it, you actually enjoyed it. Clicking with the rest of your friends, especially a man around your age named Kamo Choso.

During group meet ups you and him spoke pleasantly on just about everything. Life, his siblings, shared music interest.. you two clicked deeper then you have with anyone else.

An innocent connection you felt were developing into feelings..

Manicured fingers slammed into the keyboard rested on the desk, whilst soft swears escaped your lips. You blinked at the bright screen, sighing heavily the moment defeat in bold red letters flashed across it.

“This is our fifth loss in a row..” You moaned in annoyance, leaning back in your chair; adjusting the black headset you wore carefully. A soft chuckle came from the other line, taking you away from your annoyed thoughts.

“You suck when you’re tired..”

“I’m not tired, Choso.” You countered quickly, rolling your eyes the moment another chuckle came from the man. You breathed softly, clicking off the game screen and switching over to discord. Your eyes traced the computer for a moment.

Choso and you were the only ones currently awake or rather currently in the voice chat, and have been for the past hour and thirty-minutes. You hadn’t meant to play this long, however you sometimes got carried away.

You heard shuffling on the other side of the headset, causing you to gently grab your mic. “Are you going to sleep?”

“Are you?” Choso asked in a soft hum.

Your lips twisted in uncertainty, thinking over your options. The two of you could play another round and risk losing for the sixth time— or maybe try another game.. and still lose. Either one didn’t seem like good choices, but, you didn’t want to get off the chat with Choso; just yet.

So, with a soft hum you shook your head before replying with a quick “No,” when you realized he couldn’t see.

The man gave a curt sound, one that was surely of confusion. “Then.. do you want to go another round?”

“No..” You sighed, rising from your chair to waltz over to your bed. You landed upon the cushiony mattress harshly, rolling onto your back and laying in a starfish position. “You should read me a bedtime story or something.”

“I thought you weren’t tired?”

You could practically hear the smirk in his words, causing your lips to twitch— attempting to force down a smile. You rolled to your side, closing your eyes. “I’m not,” You said defensively, adjusting yourself into a comfortable position on the bed. “—but I do need to go to sleep, and you have a soothing voice.”

For a moment you couldn’t hear a thing, only your own breathing— making you worry the voice chat had lagged out. But as quickly as those thoughts came they left even quicker, given the man was replying with a simple;

“Yeah?”

You smiled slowly, smoothing your cheek into the soft pillow. “Yeah..”

Choso paused for a moment before uttering, “Hm.. I’m sure you just have a voice kink.”

Your eyes opened wide at his statement, eyebrows pinched close as a warmth spread across you. Did.. did he just read you like a book? Was the single thought in your mind, causing you to slowly sit up to think it over.

And yet, he didn’t give you that moment, interjecting before you could even think to reply; “What, did I hit it right on the mark? I was only joking..”

You’ve talked to Choso many times to know when he was joking or not— plus you weren’t an idiot, he was being dead serious.

So, you slowly cleared your throat, scooting back to rest against your headboard. “No, what even makes you think that?” You questioned, lying straight through your teeth. You bit back a grin the moment you heard an airy chuckle, ignoring how such a sound caused shivers to dance down your spine.

“It’s obvious. Every single time I talk to you, you have this same look in your eyes.” He hummed into your ear, causing your eyes to flutter shut. “Always listening, far too intently.. Eyes focused completely on my voice rather then my words. No wonder you always say huh, whenever we speak.”

Read after read— Choso wasn’t giving you air to breathe with these completely correct accusations. It wasn’t enough you were physically attracted to the man, no; you had to be head over heels for his voice too.

You opened your mouth to speak, only for Choso to cut in;

“Deny it, and I won’t help you fall asleep tonight..”

Your eyebrows rose, teeth biting the inside of your cheek as you fiddled with your pajamas. “What, you’re gonna read me a story after all?”

“Nah, I was thinking of something else,” His breath was airy, and you swore you could hear the rustling of fabric.

Such a thought caused the heat to pool down to your belly, thighs pushing together as excitement began to sprout. “..Thinking of what?”

Instead of answering you the man gave a soft, “Lie on your back.”

That same heat swept over you, almost daring to question him again but deciding against it. Instead, you were quickly sliding to you lay on your back; hand spreading across the sliver of stomach exposed from your rising shirt.

“I’m.. on my back.” You spoke, nibbling on lip your as your fingers absentmindly traced patterns upon your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut, head rolling back onto the pillow as anticipation welled in your stomach.

“Take your pants off,” Choso spoke again, before quickly adding, “—just your pants.”

You didn’t know whether to continue to be excited or annoyed he was dragging the obvious out— yet, you obeyed, again. Your thumbs hooked onto the elastic of your bottoms, tugging them down your body and kicking them to the edge of your bed. You laid there half-bare, waiting so impatiently for his next request.

“Now.. touch yourself.”

Your eyebrows pinched close for a moment, adjusting your position as your legs rose. “Won’t I need to take my panties off?” You asked playfully, fingers sliding under the fabric for a moment before his curt response caused your hand to retract;

“I never said to take them off. I only said to touch yourself.”

You hissed softly, fiddling with the waistband of your undergarments for a split second. You could just push them down now.. there was no way he could tell, right? It was only voice chat.

But, for some stupid reason.. You decided to listen, hand slithering between your legs to slowly stroke your covered folds through the thin fabric. The motions continued as the pleasure set in, your legs widening and soft breaths escaping.

From the other side you could hear Choso’s breathing become shallow with even more rustling following. You could just imagine it; him on his back, hair a mess from laying down and the headset, whilst his strong hand was slowly stroking himself through his boxers.

You wondered if he was leaking already; how there might be a wet spot slowly forming, darkening the fabric. Such a thought had your thighs clenching, finger delicately finding your bud below your panties.

The action caused your head to tilt back, lips parting as an audible gasp escaped.

“Oh, you sound so pretty, princess. So, so pretty..”

You whined softly at his words, feeling far more aroused despite the covered pleasure. Your other hand rose to slink under your shirt, grabbing ahold of your breast to roll your thumb on your slowly erecting nipple. The pleasure was increasing by now, yet still not enough— causing your frustration to build.

“Choso, please..”

“What, what’s wrong?” His voice was taunting and low, clearly aware of what you were practically begging for. “Don’t tell me you wanna take your panties off already?.. So impatient, sweetheart.”

Choso’s words were going straight to your pussy, wetting up the lacey fabric even more. Your hips rose to meet your hand, “Choso, fuck.. Just please, I need to take them off.”

He thought it over for far too long, even humming just to irritate you further. Though, you also heard more rustling and his bed.

Fuck.. how you wished you could see what was happening right now.

“Take ‘em off.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, practically shoving off the garment as if they had personally offended you. You then wasted no time in spreading your legs wide, hand falling between them to slowly separate your damp folds. There, your middle finger reached out; swiping across your swelling bud for a split moment— before beginning small, tight circles on it.

With nothing left to restraint you, your sounds were more vocal now — airy and sweet— driving right into Choso’s awaiting ears. This caused the man to breathe heavily right into the mic, followed by the sounds of wetness.

A flush of warmth escaped as the pleasure continued, moans waning as your combined actions dawned on you suddenly. Here you were, having voice chat sex with a friend, in a chat where just about anyone else could join— at any time. Sure, it was currently three in the morning but the threat still loomed over your head.

It seemed the man had sensed your nervousness given his sudden; “It’s only us on here, mama.. use that pretty voice, let me hear you while you fuck yourself.”

Just from his voice and the vulgarity you were keening, back arching as a finger slowly pushed into your awaiting entrance. The moment you adjusted you were curling the digit, moaning out as your stomach stirred with pleasure.

Choso was praising you at this point, “That’s it, good girl.. Keep playing with yourself,” He spoke, breath rushed with soft groans interrupting. His hand was tight around his throbbing length, thumb swiping at the slit and smoothing his pre-cum across his dick. “Bet your pretending your fingers are mine, huh?” A soft chuckle escaped him— “Or maybe my tongue?.. Or maybe even my dick?”

You swore at his words, a second finger pushing in as your thumb began to rub harsh circles on your clit. “Ch—Choso, fuck..!” You pinched your nipple between your fingers, legs threatening to close as your throat nearly became raw from your voice.

You were close, pussy throbbing around your fingers as arousal leaked down them. Your pace quickened, soft sounds surrounding the room and serving as background noise to the sweetest moans escaping your wet lips.

If only you could see Choso; his eyes rolling back, hips rising into his hand and pretending it was you. His groans were deep, bordering on whimpers each time his hand slipped up to his sensitive tip. He was close too, hissing as his eyelids fluttered shut.

“Come with me, mama.. wanna hear you, fu-fuck.. lemme hear you.” Choso spoke on shaky breath, tensing as his orgasm drew.

You whimpered into the mic, eyebrows pinched close as your fingers never stopped it’s thrusts. Far too quickly you were creaming, staining your skin with your essence which trickled down your taint to your soft blankets. During this you heard a sharp gasp, warmth covering your body and enjoying the soft sounds that followed.

You simply laid there, heavy breathing coinciding with Choso’s own. Your fingers slowly withdrew from between your legs, slick smoothing across your thighs.

“You sleepy now?”

You bit your cheek, “No. No I’m not.”

“Good, I’m coming over in te— five minutes.” Choso spoke rather quickly, before the familiar sound of the voice chat ending entered your ears.

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED <3

[mango-bango-bby]

Yandere Miguel O’Hara pls?

He lost Y/n, his wife, she die in his multiverse. When he went into different multiverse to take care of anomaly villain, he met a spider woman. Her mask cut off by villain only to reveal Y/n, his wife. Miguel plan to take Y/n from her home and keep her from losing again.

Take your time.

♡ Together Again ♡

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, kidnapping, Miguel has reader tied up, my first time writing Miguel so if he’s ooc just ignore it 😭😭

Summary: Miguel lost you and now that he has you again, he’s never letting you go. Even if you aren’t his Y/n (Yan!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Miguel lost his whole family. You and your daughter and there wasn’t a single day that went by when he didn’t think about it. It was his fault, he killed both of you. Even if indirectly, he killed you. He still wore his wedding ring because he couldn’t bare to let you go.

When he realized that the new spider-woman with them, was you. He had to take you. Yes, it might destroy your world. But he couldn’t lose you again. He gently tilts a photo on the nightstand to look at you. It’s a family photo of all of you from his universe.

“Y/n, you’re not going to get anything out of struggling like that” Miguel says calmly watching you struggle against his webs. You weren’t his Y/n but that didn’t matter to him, you were still you. And being spider-woman was to dangerous for you. He can’t lose you again.

And he knows keeping you here means your universe would fall apart but frankly, he doesn’t care. He is never going to lose you again. You see to try and yell something at him but he can’t make it out, he silenced you with a web over your mouth.

He walked over to the trash can, throwing away parts of your machine that helped you create webs. You only created webs through technology which worked well for him. You had no real powers, you can’t try to escape with them. “You’re going to tire yourself out” He sighs, watching you struggle to get out of his webs.

You yell something but it’s muffled. He looks down at you, grabbing your chin in his hand so you’re forced to look at him. He’s looking at you with stern eyes.

“Y/n, I told you to stop struggling. Be obedient. I’m not letting you out of those until you’re obedient” He says, his voice stern as if he’s talking to a small child or even a pet. You looking at him will such anger in your eyes.

You never looked at him like that before. Or his Y/n never looked at him like that. But he got you to fall in love with him once, he could do it again.

His gaze softens as he’s looking at you. “I’m sorry, love, did I scare you? I didn’t mean to yell at you” He gently pets your hair, he never wants to scare you. Your whimper as he leans down, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

He smiled slightly, walking over to the nightstand. He picks up your wedding ring, he finally has you again. He walks over, picking up your hand. Miguel tries to ignore how you flinch away at his touch. He slides the wedding ring onto your finger. It fits you perfectly.

He softly smiles, placing his forehead against your hand that’s now clad with a diamond ring. He sighed, content.

“My Y/n… I missed you…”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

(A/N: Eeeee, my first spiderverse fic!! I’m so excited, I hope you guys like it!! I changed up my formatting a bit so I hope you all like that too!! Also I’ve been getting a couple requests for Miguel where he speaks Spanish so if any darlings know how to speak Spanish and would be willing to help me, i’d greatly appreciate it 🙏🙏)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

[anqelically]

I’m so sorry if I’m bothering you with a lot of tecchou’s requests but I love him😭if you want, you can write annyone else too. May I request tecchou’s having a nightmare (like s/o being a cheater or dying, whatever you want) and then he wakes up and s/o is hugging him in her sleep (I’m so sorry for my bad English, was hard for me to request this ㅠㅠ)

they have nightmares about you headcanons

featuring...! tecchou suehiro, dazai osamu, ranpo edogawa & akiko yosano

content: no manga spoilers, comfort, dreams with blood and death, a little ooc to me (especially dazai's eww)

navi | bsd masterlist | pt.2

TECCHOU SUEHIRO

he chose to chase after the criminals, and that led you to be killed in his nightmare

tecchou felt strongly about justice, everyone that knew who he was knew that. so on missions, he was always sure to take care of criminals and save civilians

in his nightmare, things were getting rough on a mission. the two of you, the only ones working, were split up from each other. instead of making his way towards you, tecchou hunted down the leader of the crime organization on his own

you should’ve been alright as a fellow hunting dog. but in this situation, you became heavily injured. you were bleeding out for who knows how long when tecchou found you

“it’s okay,” you reassured him as you bled out, “we all make mistakes sometimes. this one… this one just happened to be a bit more troubling, haha.”

when he wakes up from this nightmare, you’re still sleeping peacefully next to him. he’s freighted, so what he does is try to wake you up. you look at him groggily once he does

i definitely think that tecchou’s facial expression would make it obvious that he was scared. his eyes are opened slightly wider and hand has a slight tremble as it holds your arm

“hey, tell me what’s wrong? did you have a nightmare?”

at your touch and voice, tecchou lets out a breath he had been holding in. the events replay in his mind before he tells you what happened

he places a hand over his heart once he realizes that telling you everything has helped him calm down. he knows you were listening to every word, and he appreciates not only that, but the fact that you were still there with him

“don’t leave me, y/n,” tecchou begged.

his slender fingers were intertwined with yours while he pulled them close to his chest. he had never been as scared of losing anyone that much until you came along. he was strong, and so were you, but loving you came with the natural fear of loss.

you promised, “i won’t. i won’t leave you, i swear.”

before you guys go back to sleep, he’ll fall into your arms and will become the little spoon. my bb just wants to be held after experiencing that nightmare :((

OSAMU DAZAI

he lost you in his nightmare

dazai says that he loses things he doesn’t want to lose, which made this dream— nightmare all too real

it was like reliving everything that happened with oda. you were already at death’s door when he arrived and as you walked past that door, his blood-stained arms held you

i don’t see dazai waking up to this nightmare screaming, crying, or even telling you about it. a silly nightmare was all it was, right?

but if he has that same silly nightmare constantly, then i imagine that he’d lose sleep over it. the nightmare was a reminder that you were someone important for him to lose. avoiding it meant sleeping less, or not even sleeping at all

not knowing the details, you were concerned about if he was sleeping well, or sleeping at all. you fall asleep before he does, but he seems to be wide awake when you just get up in the early morning

although he tried to be energetic around you like normal, it wouldn’t be long before he’d laze around as if something was clouding his mind

if you make the decision to confront him, dazai will surely play dumb at first

“work is just so tiring these days! kunikida won’t stop piling work on me~” a lie.

you only figure out he lied once kunikida calls you. since you don’t work at the agency, you’ve only talked with him and a few of the other members a few times

“thank you for calling me, kunikida-san. i appreciate it.”

you found yourself bowing to dazai’s co-worker while you all stood by the main office door. a few of the other members sat at their desks, either watching or minding their own business.

the blond called you to bring dazai, who had been constantly sleepy as of late, home. although he ignored the work he was given, he still managed to act exhausted instead of lazy like he normally would. if he wasn’t going to get anything done during the day, he might as well be sent home to rest.

dazai rubbed the back of his neck, thinking that his partner calling you to the agency was unnecessary. not only that, but his cover had been blown. once you finish talking with kunikida, you take dazai’s hand and walk with him to your shared apartment. it was a quiet walk from there to home.

the moment he’s inside, dazai will flop onto the couch. it takes a little bit of convincing to get him to talk about the repeating nightmare

he thinks he doesn’t need it at first, but comforting him actually affects him greatly. it lets him know that he has your support as he fights his own battles. please have him close so that he can put his hands on your waist and rest his head by the crook of your neck

“you can tell me anything,” you tell him. “there’s a lot about yourself you keep a secret, and that’s okay. i get that there are things you can’t find yourself to share, but this is something you have to. talking about these things are important, dazai. i don’t want you losing sleep over it, m’kay? just talk with me.”

to love and be loved is a curse— but even so, dazai couldn’t resist

RANPO EDOGAWA

you were set up to be killed and he didn’t realize until it was too late in his nightmare

as the greatest detective in the world, nothing seemed unbeatable to ranpo. though there have been some obstacles, there was always a way to win in the end. well, that’s what he thought

his sleeping mind toyed with him by placing you in a situation where there was no way for you to live. fyodor had set up a plan to kill you, a valuable asset to the agency, and it went right under ranpo’s nose

it obviously felt so real to ranpo. so if he wakes up and you aren’t with him in bed, he’s afraid that maybe everything wasn’t a nightmare. he scurries out of bed and to the first place you’d be

“come back to bed.”

sometimes, you’d find yourself wide awake in the middle of the night. it was a problem that settled down when you got together with ranpo, but still happened on a few occasions. whenever it did, you sat on the balcony of your shared apartment and read a book. if the weather was harsh, you’d read in your study.

you were surprised when ranpo suddenly told you to go back to bed with him. his voice was more pleading than you ever heard it to be, leading you to think something was wrong.

you shut the book in your hands, “hey… are you okay?”

i feel like ranpo would play it off as something stupid that he doesn’t even understand, but you know better. the two of you would have to be hugging in bed for him to tell you what happened. as he does, his hands grasp the back of your shirt and he buries his face into your chest

once he finishes, he already knows what you’re going to say. you wouldn’t let yourself fall into fyodor’s hands that easily, so he shouldn’t think about it

“stay in bed from now on,” ranpo suggested. “if you wake up, read your book here.”

“but what if you wake up?”

“doesn’t matter to me.” he’s shy to admit it, but, “you scared me…”

safe to say, ranpo prefers to have you by his side so he can hug you if he was to ever wake up from any nightmares (my bb <3 im so soft for him rn)

AKIKO YOSANO

you died before she could save you in her nightmare

yosano wasn’t sure how she got there, but she had been running for what seemed to be forever. the aching in her feet seemed all too real as she sprinted towards where you were

but once she found you, it was too late. your wounds were deep and your blood was everywhere. she tried to use her ability, but it was futile to even try. the butterflies of her ability appeared, but your heart just wouldn’t beat again

“y/n, please,” the woman cried.

it was happening all over again. that soldier… a kind soul that couldn’t carry the weight of war any longer. he was gone, and yosano tried so desperately to bring him back. now, you were in his situation— gone and never able to return.

she let out a scream, both in that nightmare and in real life. it obviously woke you up, and you were quick to respond by holding her forearms

once reality sets in and she realizes it was only a nightmare, yosano is quick to take a deep breath. as a doctor, she’s had to help calm down patients many times. she knows what to do in order to ease her own mind, yet it was harder to do that she thought

her lips trembled as the breaths she let out were short and shaky. even if you hold her, her fists are clenched. it takes a moment with you rubbing her back to calm her nerves

being with her means you know her past with mori during the war. if you knew all about that, then yosano will definitely be open about the nightmare

she immediately feels a sense of relief after telling you about it, but is still shaken up. yosano will embrace you and try to fall asleep in your arms, even if the image of your dead body keeps on popping up in her mind

“a nightmare,” you reassure her, “it’s just a nightmare. i’m right here, darling.”

note: hi nonnie!! literally request for tecchou all you want (when my requests are open), I'm absolutely here for it!! someone else requested something similar and i planned to put all the requested characters in one post, but it was a lot so I'm splitting it into two <3

reblogs are appreciated + join my taglist !

@nagicore @enomane @er0ses @spenzitz @wineaddict2904 @aeshiiteiru @chuuyrr @ashthemadwriter @sanjis-fav-w1fe @bejeweledgirl @ma3mae @piichuu

[ohdeerfully]

hi!! i absolutely love your writing, you write alastor so so well and i absolutely devoured everything you have posted... would you by any chance be open to writing alastor with a f!reader who has an eating disorder/anorexia? <3 it's a triggering topic so i totally understand if you'd rather not! 💖 i've just recently been stressed about feeling like i need to lose weight again despite already having lost quite a lot and it just feels. never enough, so i would much appreciate some comfort! thank you for sharing your writing with us! 💖

hi my love!! i know you requested this some time ago, and i hope youve been feeling better (,: i also struggle with this type of thing so i 100% dont mind writing about it, but just know that you are super beautiful and worth every sweet treat and meal you get!!! mwah mwah mwah i hope you like the story ^.^

Ma Moitié

Alastor x Reader (fluff/comfort)

TW: eating disorder!!! alastor is def OOC hes being a sweetie pie join my discord!

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You always had a poor relationship with your body and food, in life and in death. You went through periods of weight loss, gain, loss again—some seemingly never ending cycle that no amount of therapy has managed to halt.

Your mind was currently weighing the pros and cons of eating the slice of cake offered to you by Charlie. She was celebrating the arrival of a few new residents, the first to arrive since the last extermination. The news really helped the hotel garner some attention, that plus the fancy new renovation Lucifer himself helped with… needless to say, Charlie was thrilled. So, she threw a little party. You had been standing awkwardly near the doorway, trying to find an opportunity to slip away from the small party. But you doubted you could escape without your absence being noticed; there really weren't that many people here to begin with.

You had accepted the cake out of sheer politeness, but you now just held the plate loosely in your hands, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you thought. You’ve been feeling particularly… susceptible to the calories in food lately. You considered the fact that you hadn’t eaten much today—or, honestly, the whole week for that matter. It shouldn’t hurt to just have one slice of cake. Just this once.

But… still… 

You frowned down at the cake. Picking up the plastic fork, you took a tiny chunk from it and lifted it to your lips. Your lips quivered as the food touched your tongue, and you felt sick as you chewed. You managed to swallow after an unnecessarily long few seconds of chewing, and you continued to just stare down at your plate. You didn’t think you’d be able to handle another bite.

Niffty had seen the sickly expression on your face, and loudly started throwing questions at you. Were you sick? Did you hate the party? Why didn’t you like the cake she made? Her loud voice was growing in volume, and catching the attention of a few other demons in the room. You tried various ways to shush her, attempting to answer her questions politely, but you felt your heart rate pick up at the obviously growing number of eyes.

“I’m not incredibly fond of sweets myself,” You heard that radio-afflicted voice pipe up from behind. You couldn’t help but jump at the unexpected presence, but you turned your head with a light smile. Alastor was looking curiously down at Niffty and you. 

“Ah, yeah, the cake’s great, I just… don’t like dessert that much…” You lied. You actually really liked cake, but it had been a long time since you were actually able to enjoy it without feeling intensely guilty about it. The tiny demon made a fussy comment about how nobody appreciated her and all of her hard work, stomping away. Her mood didn’t last, though, immediately getting caught up in cleaning something you couldn’t even see. 

You turned your head to thank Alastor, but you saw his smile drop slightly as he looked at you. The demon bent at the waist to lean down, his mouth near your ear and his usually boisterous voice quieted to a whisper. “Is everything alright, mon coeur?”

You felt your face heat up, both at the words he spoke and the proximity. You and Alastor had been quietly ‘official’ for quite a while now, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the small gestures of affection from the Radio Demon. It felt weird if you thought about it too long.

“I’m okay, just…” You weren’t sure how open you wanted to be about how you were feeling. Alastor knew about your poor body image and eating habits, but he truthfully never really knew how to go about comforting you. Plus, you felt as if your personal struggles were trivial to a literal Overlord of Hell. You didn’t want to bother him with your own shit.

“I’m fine,” You finally decided. You could tell Alastor knew you were lying, with that furrow of his eyebrows, but he stood up straight and didn’t push. You sighed and gently placed the plate of cake down on a small entryway table by the door you had been lurking near.

“I’ll get us out of here,” He declared with a wide smile, and he strode forward to where Charlie stood talking to the group of new guests. She knew Alastor was approaching due to the look of horror that slowly crossed the new demon’s faces. You couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, but it looked like she briefly scolded Alastor for being so damn intimidating for no reason.

They chatted for a moment, and you could hear the Radio Demon’s obnoxious laughter from across the room. He gestured to himself, then to you, to which Charlie looked in your direction. You shot her a small smile. She smiled back, nodded, and turned away to continue talking to the new residents—who all had been slowly inching away from Alastor. They looked incredibly relieved when he left the group.

He gave you a grin and wordlessly threaded his arm around yours, linking you at the elbow. You lifted your hand to give his upper arm an appreciative squeeze as you left the room. Your eyes lingered on the abandoned slice of cake as you walked away, feeling guilty in more ways than one.

Alastor had led you to your room, releasing your arm and leaning his body weight on his cane as he looked down at you. You glanced up at him, then back down, pursing your lips as you stared at anything else in the room.

“I hate when demons lie to me,” He said, eyes narrowed. Of course, you knew he wasn’t truly mad at you. Maybe frustrated. “What’s wrong.” It was more like a statement than a question. A demand.

You sat heavily down on the edge of your bed, fiddling with your fingers. 

“I don’t know, Al,” You muttered. You hated this. “I just… You know how I get sometimes.” It somehow felt so silly, telling him about this. 

Alastor had sat down next to you, his arm wrapped over your shoulder and a clawed hand rubbing up and down your forearm. You could tell his touch was light, awkward, unsure—but the gesture was appreciated nonetheless. While Alastor typically had no problem overstepping boundaries and shoving demons around purely to aggravate them, he obviously had no real idea how to be intimate and kind. But he tried for you.

He took his other hand and slipped it under your legs, swiftly lifting you and pulling you further up the bed. He leaned his body against the headboard, and dragged you over to lay your torso against his own.

“I don’t understand why you worry about all this, dear,” He mused, his fingers threading through your hair. His other hand graced past your stomach, which caused you to subconsciously flinch away. You felt his hand pause, but he didn’t mention it.

“I wish I didn’t have to,” You responded slowly, your cheek squished against his chest. “But I’ve dealt with this since I was alive. I feel like it’ll never get better.”

“Dearest, you have a whole eternity here,” He mused in response. He placed a finger under your chin and craned your head to meet his gaze. “You need to be strong to survive down here; to stay sane. A healthy body leads to a healthy mind.”

Of course Alastor was always thinking about strength and survival. He was an Overlord, after all. You didn’t respond to him, but you kept looking at him as he spoke. There was an odd look in his eyes as he talked.

“Plus,” He continues. His words were slow, and his mouth moved as if the words tasted unnatural on his tongue. This uncertainty that touched the Radio Demon’s voice was… rare, to say the least. “I want to see ma moitié happy. I am… incredibly devoted to you.”

Your ear pricked when you noticed the radio frequency in his voice completely dropped when he spoke the words. That look in his eyes—you finally recognized it as some odd sense of passion and endearment. An emotion that you could tell confused him, with the strain in his brow as he examined you. He meant the words he said, no matter how unnatural they felt leaving his mouth.

You rested your head back down on his chest. You knew this conversation wouldn’t “cure” you or anything, but you hoped that maybe you could think back on his words everytime your hands shook as you held a fork to your mouth. Of all demons in Hell, Alastor’s opinion was probably the most important to you, and you knew his devotion wouldn’t halt because of a few pounds; Alastor had to be deeply, deeply passionate about you to even let you lay on top of him like this.

You only hummed in response, and simply rested your head back against his chest. You hugged your arm tightly against him to try to convey that you appreciated his words, but you didn’t really know what to say.

“Would you join me for breakfast tomorrow?” Alastor asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “I know this wonderful place that I frequent for coffee…” 

You thought for a moment, again weighing the pros and cons; a habit that you struggled to drop when it came to meals. Your mind was buzzing with thoughts of what kind of food might be there, and if you should ration out the meals for the rest of the day. But, you felt the thoughts melt away when Alastor’s hand rubbed a comforting circle against your cheek, and then trailing down towards your shoulder in a light squeeze.

“Okay,” you finally said. It wouldn’t hurt to have a decent meal for once. You pulled yourself up onto your elbows again to look at Alastor. “Sounds awesome.”

His smile twisted up, his teeth peeking through a small gap in his lips. His head inched forward, but then paused, and you could tell his mind was racing with various thoughts. You waited for him to decide and, after a few moments, he closed the gap and lightly pressed his lips against yours. It was brief, as most intimate contact with him was, but you enjoyed it while it lasted.

“You will always be my only weakness,” Alastor admitted tenderly. “The most captivating demon in all of Hell.”

You couldn’t stop the shy smile that spread across your face at his words. You sputtered out some awkward response, to which he simply hummed and smiled at. He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the headboard, his fingers still playing with your hair gently.

You followed suit, resting your head against his chest and closing your own eyes. You didn’t even realize how tired you were, too caught up in the rare intimacy with Alastor. You let your worries of breakfast fade away, choosing to just enjoy the warmth of his body so close to yours.

[rodolfoparras]

What about the first time with Eddie? 👉👈

I imagine he’s a bit hesitant at first, but once you get into it he’s a lot more vocal and enthusiastic, even tries riding you

Nothing Compares

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Top Male reader

Content tags: 18+, MINORS DNI, anal fingering, riding, rimming, porn with feelings

A/n: pls excuse any mistake and ooc moments, I redid a huge part of it earlier today and I have been kind of working on this for days so I’ve become blind to the smaller details rip anyway than u sm for your request and I hope you enjoy it! (Also look at that banner I’m so proud)

“You know,” you begin, voice ever so gentle as you caress his bare skin “we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, I’m perfectly fine with just kissing or watching movies or whatever you’d want to do instead”

“I want to,” he says, tone firm and eyes full of confidence. “You’ve done so much for me, for my son, for us, I trust you,” he says before gently cupping your face and kissing your lips.

He only pulls back far enough to rest his forehead onto yours, noses brushing together as he once again repeats his words “I trust you,”

You look at him, eyes filled with tears before you blink them back and kiss him firmly on the lips

“I love you so much” you say in between kisses, feeling a flood of emotion bubbling up in your gut when you hear him giggle.

“I love you too” There’s a soft smile on his face as he meets your gaze, eyes swirling with emotion that you’re sure can be found in your own irises.

He says one last thing before he allows you to strip the clothes off the two of you.

“Just….you know.. go easy on me” he says, teeth nervously nibbling on his bottom lip.

“Always”

Eddie’s sprawled out on your bed, legs spread apart and knees tucked into his chest.

From where you lay you can see his dark locks splayed out onto his pillow case.

As you drag your gaze along his throat, you see the way his St. Christopher necklace spills onto his collarbones and the way it glimmers from where the light hits it.

You continue to trail your gaze down the valley of his peck and onto his abdomen where his hard cock lays.

Eventually your eyes land upon puckered hole, and you can’t help the thought that occurs.

Beautiful, so beautiful, you think to yourself before you swipe your tongue along the cleft of Eddie’s ass, eyes peering up at him to see the way his head lolls back, and he lets out a gasp. “Oh- oh God”

“You alright?” You say, voice sounding breathy and strained.

“Yes,yes I’m good, just- just keep going” he says voice sounding just as breathy and strained.

You deliver another broad stroke with your wet tongue before slowly circling his puckered hole, feeling his heels dig into your back as he claws at the mattress.

“Ah fuck!” He cries out, and lifts his head to meet your gaze. “Don’t- don’t tease please “

You only hum in response, before slowly working your tongue into the tight ring of muscles.

“God oh god! ” Eddie cries out, head trashing side to side, as his heels dig further down into your back.

Drool’s dribbling down the cleft of his ass, eager finger leaving marks on his skin and his musky scent engulfs your senses as you continue to lick into him.

Slowly but surely the tight channel becomes ever so unresisting under your tongue , and with each swipe, Eddie seems closer to losing his mind

“More, more more please i need more,” he sobs out, hands frantically clawing at the mattress.

But instead of doing as he says, you stop and pull away, leaving him looking absolutely bewildered. “No, no, no, why did you stop?!“

“Shh, sweetheart, I won’t leave you hanging, you know I won’t” you say, as you kiss his thighs in reassurance “Would you mind getting the lube for me? It’s on the drawer to the left”

You can’t help but smile at the way he almost jumps up to get the bottle, hair in complete disarray and sheets clinging onto his limbs, even almost falling face first onto the floor when he rolls back onto the bed.

You take the bottle from him, a small thanks slipping past your lips as you pour a generous amount into the palm of your hand “You still okay? We can stop at any moment” you say while warming the lube up between your fingers.

“No please don’t stop” he says almost too quickly and you can’t help but chuckle at his eagerness.

Your hands find his legs again, propping them up and tucking his knees into his chest before your finger finds his rim, and gently circle it.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut, body relaxing into the sheets as a breathy sigh escapes his lips.

“Mm that’s - that’s really nice” he says, voice slightly cracking as he speaks and you can’t help the endeared smile on your face as you look down at him.

Cute

You continue circling his puckered hole, relaxing the muscle as much as possible before sliding the tip of your finger inside him.

Immediately you feel goosebumps raise on his skin where you’re resting your hand on him , body slightly tensing as a shaky breath escapes his lips

“You okay?” You ask, stopping your movements complety to look up at him.

“Mm just- just- go slow yeah?,” he says body still tense as he runs a shaky hand through his hair.

“Of course“you say as before you gently work the tight ring of muscles, eyes glued to his and gauging his reaction.

He continues to take deep breathes, eyes squeezed shut and hands clinging onto the mattress but as soon as you’re down to the second knuckle of your index finger you hear soft moan rolling off of his lips “Mm ah- just just - just like that ”

“Feels good?” You ask as you you continuously massage the wall of nerves under your fingertips.

He looks down at you, eyes half lidded, and mouth agape while nodding his head “So so good, keep going please”

Slowly but surely you work a second finger into him, altering between grazing the wall of nerves and scissoring your fingers.

“Oh, oh god, please, please please” he whines out, almost grinding down onto your hand.

“Just wait a bit, yeah? I promised I’d take care of you didn’t I? Just let me do so yeah? I’ll take such good care of you I promise” You say while continuously moving your fingers inside him.

He almost wants to protest but agrees anyway, body relaxing into the sheets as he allows you to whatever you want with him

“Good boy” you coo before working a third finger inside of him, drawing more moans out of him and watching the way precum pools on his abdomen.

Eventually the last bit of patience trickles out of Eddie, body thrashing under your grip as pleas continuously tumble past his lips “Come on come on come on im ready please just please fuck me” he whines out, arm thrown over his eyes as his heels dig into your back.

You chuckle at his eagerness but gently slide your fingers out of him, watching the way he winces before a look of anticipation makes its way on his face.

You make quick work of getting the condom and the bottle of lube from earlier, pulse roaring in your ears as you shuffle closer to him, and hands shaking as you roll the condom onto your dick. But you stop completely in your step, hearing yourself take a shaky breath as you take in the sight of the man sprawled out your bed.

“Maybe I need a moment “ you say more to yourself, letting out a laugh before resting your head onto one of his thighs.

He chuckles at that, before you feel his hand trace soothing patterns onto your back. “Take your time” he says, sounding playful but endeared as well.

There’s a moment where the only sound that can be heard is the fluttering from the fan, along with the random assortment of noises coming from outside the window.

His hand is a welcome weight on your body, skin ever so warm as it presses against your cheek and slowly but surely you feel the tension bleeding out your body.

You slowly raise your head to meet his gaze, and as you do you see the way he’s nibbling on his lip while his eyes shift around the room as if preparing himself to ask you something.

“Hey hey hey, is something the matter?” You say with a confused look on your face while giving a gently squeeze to his leg.

Eddie shifts on the bed, Adam’s apple bobbing as he nervously swallows before he finally says something.

“Can I ,, I mean I’d like to you know…ride you,” he says, before he turns his gaze away, teeth sinking into his bottom lip and nervously nibbling on it again.

You blink at him in surprise, before you let out a groan, loud enough to slightly startle the other man.

“Good god Eddie you’re going to be the death of me” you say head burying back into his leg. You immediately feel the tension bleed out his body as a laugh tumbles past his lips.

“So is that a yes?” He says, still sounding a bit bashful while tracing random patterns onto your skin.

“Fuck, yeah, yeah that’s okay with me how do you want me?” you say as you scurry to get off of him.

“Eager” he teases, seemingly much more relaxed now. “Lay down on your back,” he says while gesturing for you to lay down where the headboard is.

“You don’t even know,” you say in response to his comment, not even wasting a second before you lay sprawled out on the bed with a pillow under your head.

He easily straddles your waist, hands resting on your chest to brace himself.

The unsure look bleeds back onto his face, hands fiddling on your chest as he chews on his bottom lip again.

“Eddie,” you say tone as firm as your grip on his hips. “I’m not expecting anything show stopping here. It’s just me and you spending some time together like we always do, just with a little less clothes on” you say with a chuckle but squeezing his hips to bring home your point. “And like I said if you’re not sure about this yet we can just do something else,” you say with a gentle smile on your face, hand reaching out to brush away the hair from his eyes.

He’s quiet for a moment, eyes following your hand before he grabs ahold of your wrist, voice as firms as his hold when he speaks “I want to but,” he pauses, and harshly swallows before he speaks again “I’m -you know uh new to this so please bear with me,” he says before he lines your tip up with his hole, and slowly pushes it past his puckered rim.

“Jesus christ!,” you grunt out, feeling as if your breath’s been punched out of your lungs.

Eddie takes a shaky breath, hands adjusting on your chest as he continues to lower himself.

“You alright?” You say through a strained breath, thumb gently caressing his hip.

“Yeah” he manges to say, brows pinched together and mouth agape as he continues to lower himself.

“Just like that baby, keep going, you can do it, I know you can” you say through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering shut and doing your best not to buck up into him.

Finally he bottoms out, your balls now firmly pressed against his ass, and he lets out a mewls at the feeling of being so stretched out around your cock.

“You alright?” Eddie asks you, throwing his words back to you, with a shaky smiles on his face while adjusting his hands on your chest.

“Jesus Christ, i'm more than alright, feels - ah feels so so good baby, you don’t even know how good you’re making me feel '' you say between labored breaths, thumb gently caressing his hip again “What about you, pretty ? How do you feel?”

“Feels, feels ah so full” he mewls out while experimentally rocking his hips.

“Ah fuck!” You cry out, head lolling back as you slightly buck up “dont- don’t think I’ll be able to last long- already- already feels so fucking good”

Eddie slowly starts picking his hips up, working himself up your cock only to slam himself back down again”Ah- ah God!” Eddie gasps out, back arching when he gets the angle just right.

“Fuck just like that Eddie, fuck yourself on my cock,” you grunt out, eyes fluttering shut as you buck up to meet his thrusts.

Slowly but surely he becomes more confident, his movements becoming much more pronounced as he loses himself in pleasure.

“Feels so so good” he moans out, head lolling back, moving so fast he’s basically bouncing on your lap.

Once again you can’t help but admire him, from the way his dark locks stick to his forehead, to the way his St. Christopher's necklaces dangles over your face, even in the way his defined abdomen glistens from the precum that’s smeared all over it.

“Close so close please” he moans out, and those words manage to snap you out of your daze as your hands tighten on his hips while bucking up into him again.

“Come on pretty you can do it, I know you can. Make yourself cum on my cock just like I know you can” you say before wrapping one hand around his dick and stroking him, that’s all it takes for him to starts unraveling, coming with a cry and spurting ropes of cum on both your abdomens, with you tightly following close by.

Once the two of you clean up and get back into bed, a comfortable silence falls over you as you bask in each other’s presence.

Suddenly Eddie bursts out laughing and as you meet his gaze, you burst out laughing as well.

“Fuck I love you,” you say through a breathy laugh before you pull the sheets over the two of you.

“Love you too,” he says as he places a kiss to your chest, before his eyes flutter shut and his breathing slows down.

Nothing compares to this, you think to yourself before you drift of to dreamland.

[scaranation]

hi hi !! could you write an ANGST with Dottore and Zhongli where we break up with them? maybe in dottore we break up because we can't bear(?) his experiments anymore and in Zhongli one we feel not enough/that he loves someone else (maybe Guizhong?)

Gn reader or Fem!reader(if u write for fem. sorry if u do not,i couldnt find rules and im really really sorry ! :( ... )

p.s will there be To love another 3rd part? it's my fav fanfic ever !!

love your work ♡♡

hihihi i know this is like super late but this prompt is literally so good 😭 also im thinking of writing another part to that fic, but i just dont know where to take it so ive been procrastinating haha

dottore’s part is kinda ooc bcs let’s be real if he’s that whipped for reader he wouldn’t let them break up with him, but im going to pretend that he’s not as much of a red flag as he actually is 🤭🤭

༊*·˚ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐅𝐅

Pairing: Dottore x GN!reader, Zhongli x GN!reader (separate)

Content: Angst, no comfort. Mentions of canon typical violence, assumed past Guizhong x Zhongli

DOTTORE

“It seems my beloved has finally thought to visit me.”

You cringed from the overpowering metallic scent as you stepped into your boyfriend’s laboratory, trying hard not to look at the borderline gruesome sights on the clinical beds.

Dottore cleaned the blood off a bone saw he was holding, setting the instrument down carefully before walking towards you - eyes lit up, but holding a gleam different to the maniacal one he usually possessed.

“How was your day, my love?” His voice was humorous. He seemed to be in a good mood, humming lightly while opening the door for you.

“It was fine.” You sighed as you felt the weight of Dottore’s harbinger coat settle across your shoulders, registering the touch of his hand as he pulled you into him and away from the Snezhnayan cold.

“Has that coworker of yours still been bothering you?”

“… Don’t try pretending.”

“Whatever could you be talking about?” The Doctor’s grip on you tightened.

“I wouldn’t wish death on anyone, even if they annoyed me to that extent.” You sighed, finally tilting your head to stare into the planes of your lover’s mask.

“Oh, they’re not dead. Rather, they’ve been subject to some biological modifications of an experimental kind - would you like to see?”

You gritted your teeth.

“I’m hungry, don’t make me lose my appetite.”

“Good thing I have a nice place booked for dinner, my love.”

His compliance was almost uncanny.

-

Normal couples gazed affectionately into each other’s eyes over meat and wine, fingers fondly interlaced over the dining table. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to return Dottore’s adoring scarlet gaze, and his hold on your hand felt more like a death trap.

“Is the food to your liking?” He asked. He hadn’t touched any of the vegetables on his plate, only biting into the steak.

“Yes. You should eat greens, too.” You commented.

“Mm. Why don’t you feed me, then?” Dottore only tilted his head, smiling eagerly. Recently, a fear of you being turned into one of the harbinger’s countless experiments had taken hold, and it was this same fear that drove you to play right how he wanted. And so, lifting your fork, you fed him with all the patience you could muster - staring into those deep red eyes, feeling like nothing more than prey. Those eyes would’ve been the last thing many others had seen before their death, the end of their lives marked by that sadistic grin. You almost shuddered at the thought.

Normal couples slept under starry nights reflected in their star crossed hearts as they cuddled close under soft sheets. Normality was such a strange concept, you decided. Despite the fact that you were doing just what normal couples should, the situation was still absurd. However, your fear of becoming another one of the harbinger’s lab rats wasn’t unfounded. You mulled over this fact, almost snorting at the juxtaposition. Here you were - wondering if the man who cradled you in his arms would strap you down to a table in the name of research.

“My love, are you still awake?” You felt Dottore’s breath ghost over your neck, his face pressing into your nape. With a rustle, he readjusted the blanket over your shoulders.

“Yeah, I can’t sleep.”

“Nightmares, perhaps? I have a pill you can use for those.”

“No, just… thinking.” You squirmed in Dottore’s hold. His comment only reignited your spiralling train of thought, pushing you further to the point of resolve.

If he could kill his clones - literal versions of himself - then what would stop him from doing the same to you? Even if you remained alive, would you have to continue to tolerate being exposed to such grotesque horrors?

It was simply better to break things off, before you no longer had the option to.

Breakfast.

The first meal of the day, and the last meal you’d share with your boyfriend.

“Dottore.”

“Yes?” The Doctor’s head jerked up immediately from where he was chewing. You could feel the undivided weight of all his attention sinking into you, and for a moment, you faltered. He was notorious for paying little mind to anyone else, and yet, he treated you with the utmost attentiveness. You steeled your resolve.

“I think… we should break up.”

Silence. Then, the grating scrape of cutlery against crockery.

“Why.”

Not a question, more of a demand. You gulped.

“Do you want me to be honest with you?”

“Yes. Is it something I did?”

“I can’t bear your experiments anymore, Dottore. They’ve gone too far, and I don’t think I can stomach living normally with you as if I don’t know the kind of things you do. Even worse, every day I’m wary that I might be your next test subject - whenever I walk into your lab, I wonder when I’ll be the one under your needles. It’s exhausting.”

Another beat of silence. You could see Dottore’s chest rising and falling at an increasingly fast pace, his jaw tensing.

“I would never, ever do that to you. It’s ridiculous that you’d even think that, and as for your prior reason… I can arrange for you to come to the lab less often…”

“So you’re just going to cover my eyes and act like you’re not doing anything with those experiments? I just can’t be ignorant here, nor can I trust you. If you can get rid of your clones so easily, then what am I? What value do I hold-“

“Those creations do not even compare to you.” Dottore finally snapped, slamming his hand down on the table. You flinched, and he felt as though his lung capacity had been halved. His head spun in tandem with the rapid tightening of his heart, his mouth twisting into a scowl.

It hurt Dottore, realising that you didn’t trust him. That all those fond, intimate memories together were just you acting out of fear - or at least, the most recent ones were. It hurt, beyond anything Dottore thought he could inflict on his patients. And even worse, you were frightened of him. The light shaking of your shoulders and the way you flinched were enough indication.

The Doctor enjoyed seeing his victims become terrified, but that same terror on you almost made him feel like he’d been the one stabbed with a scalpel. Foolishly, he’d fallen victim to his own maniacal research tendencies.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just meant to say… that you can trust me.” Dottore raised his hand towards you to cup your cheek, wincing when you avoided the action.

“I tried to, I really did. But I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

“My love, please.”

The second harbinger was begging. What a strange sight.

“Let me go, Dottore.” You murmured shakily. You saw hesitation, hurt, and anger flit through those vermilion eyes you’d used to love. But that love you held for him had only smouldered into disgust and fear.

“… Then go. Get out of my sight.” Dottore hissed, his teeth clenching at the wary expression on your face.

It was painful, how you walked out without a second glance.

“My love…” Dottore whispered. He stared at the closed door, almost expecting you to return. He repeated the phrase, over and over to himself - his face contorting into an expression he himself couldn’t name. Was there truly an emotion as human as this? It was a twisted, unimaginable feeling the Doctor couldn’t categorise. The syllables came off his quivering lips, as though by uttering them he could make you come back.

But the truth was, your not-so-normal relationship was over. Perhaps, Dottore would return to the normality of his heartless experiments, and you’d return to the normality of a better fate than one you’d endure by his side.

He only regretted not being able to hold you more.

ZHONGLI

There were only two letters between you and your lover, but those two letters seemed to stretch wider every day - ‘I’, and ‘M’. The seemingly infinite synapse between mere ‘mortal’, and ‘immortal’.

Zhongli was undeniably a mortal vessel, but he as a being was not. He’d lived eons before you, loved and hated thousands. He’d experienced things you couldn’t even fathom, and yet, you couldn’t comprehend how he treated you as though your fleeting existence was the centre of his much larger world.

Whenever you looked into Zhongli’s amber eyes, heard his deep laugh, or felt his gentle caress, you could only feel insignificant. After all, he used to be a literal god. You couldn’t help the guilt that gnawed at your conscience, couldn’t stamp out the incessant feeling that he was too good for you, that you couldn’t compare to whatever lovers he’d had in the past.

“How’s the tea, darling?” Zhongli prompted. He sat with his back to the window, basking in an almost ethereal glow.

“Ah, I have yet to try it.” You shook yourself out of your thoughts to raise the cup in front of you. Zhongli only smiled warmly, but the gesture made your hand shake a little. You’d planned to break up with him today, and yet the way he still stared lovingly at you - full of infinite trust - made you feel terrible.

But how many others had he also treated this way? In his life, those others were probably far more special than you, possessing talents far more worthy of a god’s attention.

Suddenly, a shattering sound pierced your ears, and a scalding warmth set into your thigh. You looked down in a daze, before snapping out of it upon realising that you’d dropped the teacup.

“Are you okay?” Zhongli was at your side in an instant, mopping up the spilled tea and collecting the broken fragments of the cup.

“Yeah.” You gritted your teeth again. How dare someone as insignificant as you make Rex Lapis get down on his knees to clean the mess you’d made. It simply made you feel as though you didn’t deserve such a wonderful man at all.

“You’ve been distracted lately. Is there anything I should know about?” Zhongli asked slowly.

“No. Well, yes.” You stammered. You hadn’t planned this out very well, and your heart squeezed tighter.

“Go ahead. You know you can tell me anything, darling.”

A warm hand came to rest against your cheek. You closed your eyes, feeling tears build and slip down your face.

Zhongli wiped at your tears, holding your hands in your lap as he looked up at you worriedly - his thumbs tracing comforting circles on your knuckles. He thought of saying something, before deciding against it. He knew it was better to let you speak first.

“Let’s break up.” You blurted, feeling Zhongli’s fingers come to a complete stop.

“We can work through this, tell me why first. Has something been upsetting you?”

Your tears fell harder. He still showed you so much kindness, never jumping to any conclusions.

“I feel like I don’t deserve you. You’re too good for me, it makes me feel guilty that someone like me can have you.” You sobbed.

“Darling, you know it makes me happy to just spend time with you. That in itself is fair exchange, no?”

“But what makes that so special? You’ve lived for so long, you could’ve done this with anyone else, and you probably have. Who am I in comparison to someone like Guizhong?”

Through your blurred vision, you could still see Zhongli’s form kneeled by your side. He seemed to be choosing his next words carefully.

“You and her are both special, in your own way. Why don’t you calm down a little first? I can pour you some more tea.”

“I’m so selfish, Zhongli. I really don’t think I can stay with you.”

“Do you really want to leave that badly?”

Your heart twisted. You didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay in his warm embrace, his soft understanding gaze. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“… Yes.”

“Very well then. You know I won’t stop you, because I just want what’s best for you.”

The light grip on your hands released, and as you stood up everything seemed to spin.

“Thank you… for everything.” You murmured, stealing one last glance at the man you loved - before leaving.

Zhongli remained where he was for some time. In his life, many things came to an end, but this hurt a little more. When Guizhong had left him, it was due to her passing - the youthful Rex Lapis had found someone to blame, to ventilate his grief. But the most crude fact in this situation was that you were still alive, and had chosen to leave him of your own volition. Zhongli himself had made this happen.

However, an archon’s most prized trait was impartiality. Therefore, Zhongli knew that he had to maintain indifference. He refused to let himself chase after you, or force you into anything. It was only unfair, if an immortal were to impose such a fate onto a mortal.

And so, he could only watch as you faded from his life, like the cyclic ebb of waves on an ocean shore.

[personne-reblogs]

AUTISTIC SWEEP

The shouts of the crowd are fading into white noise. 

The curtains are closing. 

The lights are dimming. 

The air still feels filled with static, though. 

This is a fight Donatello had known he couldn’t win, logically. The competition had been all fun and games, but this challenger was another story. No amount of support or hype could make up for such a gap; the bone deep certainty didn’t leave room for hard feelings. 

Struggling to catch his breath, battle shell against the wall, Donatello looks up from where he’s been getting some rest - not passed out rest, mind you. More like a beauty nap.

He lets out a genuine chuckle. 

Shigeo Kageyama is simply standing there, as he has been for most of the fight. 

“Sweet Marie Curie,” he puffs, keeping his voice level. The roar of the crowd hasn’t entirely died down, but he knows he is heard. “You don’t even have a scratch.”

The one they call Mob is giving him a stare. He still seems a little out of it. 

“You fought well,” he states calmly, and Donnie giggles. 

“Oh, please. I’ve been losing tournaments at home for as long as I can remember. You don’t need to feel sorry for me.”

At that, Mob flashes a grin. “I’m not sorry,” he says bluntly, coming over in lazy steps. “But it hasn’t been easy, either.”

He sits down, legs stretched out in front of him, and Donnie can now see that his breathing is a little heavy. He feels himself get cocky. 

“Well, I wasn’t about to just let you win. If I had to go down, might as well give ‘em a show, right?”

Mob sends him a sideway glance. “You really are all about dramatics.”

“What can I say?” Donnie sighs theatrically, proving his point. “This whole competition is about being swag. I could hardly disappoint.” 

“I don’t think you could," his opponent utters. “You’re very expressive.”

Donnie raises a perfectly drawn eyebrow. This is something he hasn’t often been told. He looks over to Mob, and the tension in the boy’s shoulders makes him hum in thought. 

“I don’t know who’s next, but you are going to crush them,” he provides. When Mob gives him a nonplussed glance, he goes on. “And even if you don’t, it’s still the last one. How good does that sound?”

“... it has been getting a bit much, to be honest.”

“Yeah, this is wild,” Donnie agrees. “Anyway, what are you gonna do with your trophy once you get it?”

Mob’s smile is a little shy, but he seems happy with the distraction. “I don’t know, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten one. What would you do?”

“Well, you see, there was this one time I won the Lair Games…”

--------------------------

In the next room, a very proud sensei and three worried brothers are getting impatient. 

The student and the sibling don’t seem to care at the moment. 

The crowd is gone. 

The curtains are closed. 

The lights are off. 

For now, making small talk with a former rival is just enough.

--------------------------

EDIT: there is now a sequel!

YOOO IT'S BEEN SUCH A WILD RIDE

Disclaimer: I have never read/watched mp100 and I deeply apologize for making him probably very ooc. Just wanted to celebrate this beast of a match in my own way, which is wishing I could draw and deciding to heave words on a doc instead lol

CONGRATS ON MOB!! The final match between mp100 and undertale is gonna be soooo funny but I think Mob's gonna win this thing like it's nothing tbh (he has my vote at least)

@autismswagsummit thank you for reblogging all that Donnie propaganda, I genuinely think he never would've made it this far without the signal boost!

All my thanks to the Rise fandom for these past few days! You guys have made such powerful content and there's been so much hype I'm shocked. SHOCKED I TELL YOU

[eepywriters]

I LOVED YOUR MESSAGES WITH QUACKITY ❤️❤️❤️

please do getting into an agrument with quackity headcanons please 🙏🏻🙏🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻😙😙🫣‼️💕💕🩷🩷

.✦°. • getting into an argument hcs (*´Д｀*)

warnings: a bit of angst and maybe a bit ooc? I tried 😞🤚🏻

a/n: HIII!! THANK U SO MUCH! It means a lot :D and sorry if it took so long ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡ finals kicked my ass so I couldn’t write for a while BUT IM HERE SO LET’S GET INTO IT

EARLY INTO THE RELATIONSHIP

(thinking of a young, little experienced Alex)

Oh it’s jover

This could actually be something that could cause a breakup cuz let me tell you THIS MAN just can’t stand confrontation

If it’s something that bugged you, he’d probably understand your point of view but would also be very overwhelmed at the thought of losing you cause he hasn’t been good enough for you, resulting in him hyper focusing on his spiraling thoughts rather than listening to what you are saying

I feel like he’d also be the type to act like nothing happened right after an argument; he’d ignore the tense situation and make jokes to light up the mood and forget about it. He’s not dense, he knows it hurts you to see him seemingly ignore your feelings like that, but he’s not used to being listened so he ends up making his partner go trough his predicament as well

BUT it’s even worse if it’s something that bugged HIM; he probably wouldn’t tell you about it, much preferring to suck it up and don’t cause problems, even though he IS creating more problems

the underlying tension caused by his silence would bring the relationship to a breaking point:

1 you break up and the regret eats him up (probably also wouldn’t reach out again because of shame and a tiny bit of ego)

2 you talk about it cause it can’t go on like this

When I talk about bugging tho, I’m thinking about things that don’t surge an immediate reaction from him, because if he’s mad, he’s mad.

He’s the venomous type, forget his silence and self pity, he’ll probably laugh in your face in irritation and say whatever the fuck he thinks

He’ll retreat to his office as soon as he sees the hurt in your face, understanding he went to far and going back to he’s usual silence, ending up giving you the silence treatment. (he also feels incredibly ashamed) (he’ll just stay in his office all day, editing mindlessly since his mind is anywhere but in the work he’s doing)

He’ll either leave you alone in bed that day, making you sulk and feel as lonely as ever, or will sleep with you but it’ll be the coldest shit ever (like the typical movie scene where two people sleep super afar from each other)

Don’t misunderstand tho, he does feel guilty, he just struggles with communicating his feelings properly (*´ー｀*)

“(Name) I’m not a child, stop acting like you are my fucking mom” he spat, a look of indignation spreading on his features, shaping his otherwise gentle appearance into a strong, furious one.

“Cant you understand that I’m worried about you?” you strike back, jaw impossibly tightened “I understand that you’re very dedicated to your job, but you can’t get yourself to this state.” You sigh, not able to keep up the mad act: “You look very tired Alex”.

You take a tentative step towards him, determined to show him you weren’t scolding him, nor were you mad at him. You were trying to establish contact with him, not start a fight, after all your irritation came from worry, not anger. But he didn’t receive that well. His brows scrunching even further while his mouth twitches downwards.

“Stop acting like I’m some fucking rabid animal. I can take care of myself just fine, I don’t need a fucking babysitter”.

Seems that wasn’t the right move.

The way he was saying your name was probably what hurt the most. You find yourself missing the gentle tone he usually reserved to it when spoken.

“What are you even saying?” you breathe out, your voice being so fragile you almost don’t recognize it as your own. “Do you hear what you are saying? You are being impossible Alex”.

At this point his foot is stomping nervously on the floor. He’s getting annoyed by the minute and he can’t wait to forget about this tense situation. Arguments always put him on edge, but instead of working on the root cause of his discomfort, he always had preferred to just get himself out of the mess as soon as possible. (He hadn’t yet grasped how much that could hurt others). And that’s why, out of everything he could’ve gone, he replied with the one of the most uncalled for things he could ever come up with.

“Maybe instead of worrying about me, you should take a good look at yourself first”.

And you know what he was trying to entail.

You were never insecure of your dark circles, or at least, it wasn’t something that bugged you on the daily ever since you had found a common ground with Alex, knowing he struggled with very prominent circles cause of his lack of sleep. But for someone like him, who always had a hard time with his appearance, to clap back at you by going for your looks? Foul. Unexpected. Not like him at all.

You were sure he could tell from the look of disbelief on your face that he had fucked up.

Alex’s breathing keeps up, his chest constricts, and the anger and the pride that he has wearing like a tailored suit are stripped out of him at the sight of your frown. His mind goes haywire trying to come up with any response.

Maybe if you would’ve known him better by then, you would’ve known how terrified he was of your judgment. Even though his fame often had him deal with horrible comments filled with free hate, if judgement came from you, it scarred 100 times more than anything could ever do.

“Just leave it be, I’m fine” it’s all he mutters before booking it and hiding himself in his office, leaving you to stand there, in the middle of your living room.

Tears prickle your eyes, threatening to fall at any moment and your lip begs you for mercy as you bite into it.

God, why was communicating so difficult in this house?

LONG INTO THE RELATIONSHIP

It took time, it took healing, it took sitting down and TALKING to finally find your balance

He’s still pretty much venomous when it comes to immediate triggers, but after you are both done fighting and cursing each other out, you talk about it and come out of it somewhat unscathed

Anger isn’t easy to control or refrain after all, but you both try your best, and you are able to make up most of the times without falling into old dynamics of silent treatment or isolation

If something bugs him, he most likely will tell you; he is hesitant about it, but after many nights spent in your arms, he starts to let go on some of his biggest worries (anxiety still gnaws at his core every time he opens his mouth though, that doesn’t get old at all)

If something bugs you, he doesn’t shy away from confrontation anymore; he’s not perfect at it either, he still feels the urge to run away and laugh about it all, but he’s gotten way better at it

He’s still very scared of you having a negative opinion about him, but now you know him well enough to spend some extra time to reassure him that you won’t stop loving him for a petty fight, and that arguments in relationship are important to grow not only as a couple, but as people too

“(Name)” he calls out, and you instantly recognize the hint of anxiety that he’s trying to hide from you.

“Yes honey?” you reply, taking your eyes off your phone to stare into his pretty, brown ones. They screamed stress, fear, yet also determination. He did so much progress compared to the beginnings of your relationship. You were proud of him.

Alex took a deep breath before saying: “Uhm, It’s about the photo of us you posted earlier”. You could practically smell the tension in the air. His body is stiff, his chest is heaving, but your gaze is captured by his fingers and by how his nails are digging into them continuously, tearing his already red skin.

You take his hands in yours, preventing him from doing further damage to his poor, abused fingers. You knew he does it as a way to ground himself, but he really needed to find a new coping method - one that didn’t feature him torturing his body if possible.

He stares at his hands in yours for a while. You don’t say anything, allowing him to take his time.

“Okay fuck it” Alex whispers under his breath, so quietly you almost miss it.

“It makes me feel insecure, I don’t like it” he admits, keeping his focus on your hands as he munches his bottom lip nervously. You, in response, draw slow circles on his hands, offering him a gentle smile.

“Can you delete it..?” he sounds unsure, like he’s testing the waters instead of actually making a request. Either way you welcome it.

You put one of your fingers under his chin, gently applying pressure for him to lift his head, just enough to look at you. “Of course I can. Thank you for telling me Alex, I know it’s hard”. His once tense body relaxes.

He avoids your tender gaze, seemingly preferring to stare at the floor, yet you see the soft blush that was quickly taking over his cheeks. You also can’t help but notice that he already had found his charming smile back.

“Stop looking at me like that” he mumbles as his smile spreads. Uh oh, that can only mean trouble.

“Like what” your eyes narrow, not trusting his new found confidence.

“Like this”.

His imitation is pitiful: furrowed eyebrows, small frown and large puppy dog eyes. The more you look at him, the more he reminds you of that one emo guy that kind of looks like him (he definitely does). He looks ridiculous. How did you even fall in love with this dude?

You slap his arm, scoffing out a laugh as you look at him incredulous: “I don’t look like that!”.

“I think you do” he says with a smug tone, one that makes you want to hit him with a pillow till he goes back to sleep. And maybe you just will.

“Oh it’s on you motherf-“

The room was filled with laughter instead of unconfortable, loud silence.

(first post of 2024 yippiee)

[irulaan]

OPEN WOUND | CARMEN BERZATTO

— He understand the sacrifices he has to do in order to see you smile, to not disappoint you — as he has done so many times even when you don’t say. He understands those sacrifices sometimes came labeled as family gatherings.

✧ PAIRING. carmy berzatto x fem!reader

✧ WORD COUNT. 3.6k

✧ WARNINGS. anxiety and u know all of carmy’s troubles. a loving family. mommy issues/parents issues/family issues, all the issues? i just watched like 3 episodes? so ooc carmy maybe? i don’t know… kinda corny too oops. no use of y/n. english isn’t my first language, expect mistakes.

Carmy was afraid of abruptly colliding with an imaginary wall, so he stays away. He knows pain, so if he can avoid it — hell, he would.

“I don’t really know about this,” He appears in your field of view, wearing his usual clothes and a familiar concerned expression — this shouldn’t be nearly as stressful as his days inside The Beef.

You instinctively approach him, mirroring his expression. “What’s wrong? Something happened?”

He’s taken aback by your question, but he quickly understands what you mean. “Oh, no, everything it’s fine, I promise… It’s not about nor has something to do with the beef.”

And he’s naturally lying; all his current worries have their foundations in the beef or what was left of it. He’s damaged far beyond that, but you’ve learned how to read him, when to inquire, and when to remain silent.

It clicks for you when you see he’s struggling to find the words; he’s trying to devise an excuse without hurting you. You feel foolish for a moment; of course, family reunions would affect him like this.

You reach for his hand, and then his arm when he avoids your gaze, “I can tell them we’re not going if you don’t feel sure about it,” You offer, and you can almost hear how the conversation unfolds inside his head, how his engines try to maintain a semblance of calm. “I was nervous too when I got to meet your chefs…”

“It’s different,” He deadpans, and you smile, resting your hand on his shoulder, trying not to appear too concerned by playing with a single curl of his rather messy hair.

He looks at you when you let slip out a nervous laugh. “How so? You call your meetings’ family’; that says a lot.”

There’s a beat of silence, and he withdraws from your touch. “But it is not quite real… and it’s still non-functional.”

“What are you afraid of, Carmy?” You stand there, feeling your stomach drops by seeing him like this over something that feels so different for you. “My family’s going to love you, I’m sure.”

He shook his head, his face already getting that characteristic light red tint.

“Making a bad impression? They’ll realize you’re wasting your time” His beautiful eyes refused to stare at you in such moments. He’s afraid someday, somehow, you’ll unleash your anger on him because he’s just a depressed, over-thinker, anxious guy. “I know how family meetings work… It will be a mess—I won’t be able to go through it…”

“What—what do you mean? Wasting my time?” Your incredibly soft voice so understanding, as if you’re deeply connected to his mind. It’s the only explanation he can think of.

He’s convinced he’s a waste of time, even now, yet you’re not getting upset; you’re not attempting to hurl accusations at him. Granted, you’ve never done that, and Carmen doesn’t truly believe you’re capable of it… but that’s how his wounded mind works.

Carmen doesn’t provide an answer, so you try to press on to reassure him. “Carmy, you’re not wasting my time—“

He looks at you amid your sentence and suddenly comprehends there are some sacrifices he’s willing to make for you. “Fuck—okay, let’s go.”

“Carmy, I’m not—“You’re visibly confused; he doesn’t seem to mind as he takes your hand.

“Please, I’m going to lose this impulse… just— I’m trying my best,”

A vast, relieved smile covers your face, and Carmen feels he’s gazing directly at the sun — and he loves it.

You cradle his face in your hands, gently making him meet your gaze.

“If you want to leave at any time, please tell me?” There’s a shy nod, and you realize it’s a futile question to ask. But you accept it.

“I love you, Carmy,” You promise, planting a gentle peck on his cheek before heading outside.

Your older sister obviously is the one who had to open the door, her and her extrovert energy, her weird-looking eyes, and her funny hairstyles. “There she is! My baby sister,” She usually crushes your bones under her sheer strength, and after it comes a shower of kisses. “Oh, god, I have missed you so much.”

And it’s good to see her this energetic and lovingly — you don’t want to cross her path when she’s pissed… and that’s her, the majority of the time.

She doesn’t understand personal space, so she doesn’t respect it. Your older sister doesn’t hesitate to give Carmy the same kind of hug. “And there you are! I’m Margot!” She exclaims, introducing herself and giving him a loud kiss on the cheek. Carmen only manages to whisper his name… “Mom, did you know that our baby sister’s boyfriend is the best chef in the world?” She shouts, ensuring everyone in the house hears her.

You gulp, and almost get whiplash from how fast your eyes look for his. He doesn’t seem comfortable at all; he’s stiff and fidgety, moving his fingers as if searching for something to hold. You offer your hand, and he wastes no time intertwining his fingers with yours.

As you step into the house, your sister closes the door and disappears into the kitchen, where you can hear your mom lightly scolding her. “Mags! You’re making him uncomfortable,” Then you’re greeted by her warm features and a soft smile that’s so similar to yours. She doesn’t even glance at you—her attention is fixed on your anxious boyfriend. “I’m sorry, child, she’s a bit like that,” she apologizes.

Carmy is enveloped in an endearing hug, the kind your mother or grandmother can only master. He suddenly wants to weep. How’s it that he didn’t deserve that warmth from his own mother?

It doesn’t last long, though. She soon wraps her arms around you, embracing you as tightly as your sister, and whispers how much she loves you. It’s characteristic of her—she’s unafraid to show her emotions.

And that’s all Carmen ever longed for.

“Where’s dad?”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “That old man forgot something… you know how he is,” she replies.”

And then, for Carmen’s well-being, another whirlwind approaches. He needs a breath of fresh air before whoever is descending the stairs arrives, ready to offer more hugs and love.

It’s your brother-in-law. Carmy’s lucky this man isn’t affectionate at all. “You’re earlier, bug,” he remarks, giving you a dry pat on the head, tousling your hair slightly. “Love, how did your baby sister do this?”

“Maybe it’s her boyfriend!” You heard Mag’s loud chuckle from the kitchen.

“Thank you, Carmen, for turning her into a punctual person, for god’s sake!” They shake hands. You observe your brother-in-law nearly stifling his inclination to crack a joke or be downright abrasive. He pledged to Margot that he’d be friendly… “It must be because you’re a chef; you can’t afford to be late, right?”

Carmy suddenly becomes hyperaware of his surroundings—the quiet conversation on TV, your mother and sister laughing in the kitchen, the distant voices of kids upstairs, his sweaty palms… and the broad smile on the man before him… expecting him to say something? God, he feels like a complete freak… “Yeah, th—that’s right”.

Did you fucking stutter?

You quickly notice his unease and almost drag him away from the man. “Mom, do you need help?”

“Baby? Your nieces are upstairs! Get them, please?”

After a sigh, you look at Carmen, who is already staring at you. He can clearly see how excited you are — how can you not be? When everyone loves you so much, and they show you? Even him right now, when he’s overwhelmed, he only can think about how much he loves you. “You want to stay here?”

He can’t; he’s going to have a panic attack. He’s overwhelmed by racing thoughts, the cacophony of sounds disrupting his thinking, and his heart rate threatening to skyrocket. He’s one sentence, one laugh, one scream away from losing connection with you. If he can’t step outside to breathe fresh air, he’ll cause a scene in your parent’s house. “I need to go out; it’s too much—“

“—I’m sorry, let’s go outside,” You almost drag him outside under the concerned stare of your sister.

When the cold air floods his senses, he can finally breathe properly. His fingers work on autopilot, seeking and reaching for a cigarette. He sits down on the old bench, you remained on your feet by his side.

It’s a whole scene you’re familiar with. Only lacking Tina and Richie’s loud screaming.

In moments like this, you know better than to exacerbate his unease with words and questions… he has learned to calm himself by his own means, and you respect that.

Once the cigarette is thrown away, you eventually become a part of his surroundings again. Carmy snakes his arms around your waist, pushing his head against your belly.

Your sweet smell comforts him. He inhales deeply when you card your fingers through his hair.

“You want to go home?” You ask, planting a kiss just above his hairline.

He begrudgingly distance himself from you. “Not really, it’s just—everybody loves each other?”

You pause momentarily, your gaze shifting from the bustling room to Carmen beside you. “I’m sorry about my sister and her husband, they have been like that since ever, and I understand if you feel bad; they mean no harm, tho” You completely miss the point.

Carmen looks at you — behind his eyes, a mixture of fear and frustration. “It’s not that, I couldn’t care less about it! It’s like I have—I have this fear—I’m not good at social interactions, I try my best—but did you see, heard? I fucking stutter! I—“

You try to comfort him through physical touch — laying your hand on his arm to ground him in the present. “You’re nervous; it’s expected, Carmy…”

He pressed his lips into a line. But you continue, “I’m or was as socially awkward as you are. Believe me when I say they’re used to odd phrases, stuttering, awkward silences, and silly laughs to avoid a question.”

“But they love you… it’s different,” He emphasizes. Carmen’s gaze remains somewhere else, his fingers fidgeting slightly.

“They love you too, and before you say anything, it’s simply because you make me happy, god! Carmy! They always tease me when I speak about you because I’m so in love with you because there’s always a smile on my face. And do you know how long they’ve waited for a huge smile from me? Years. And you know why, so yes, of course, they love you,”

He lets out a sigh, his shoulders slumping as he rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t really know what to say — I’m sorry, just my head messed up with me…”

A tender smile lights your face. “I know, Carmy, and I’m glad you can recognize when your mind is just playing games… you’ve come far,” you reassure him with a gentle smile. “And I won’t be pissed or angry about your insecurities or worries, but I understand if you’re waiting for me to almost kill you for it… It sucks, sure, but I understand. I’ve felt like that”.

Carmen’s gaze finally meets yours; he’s being so vulnerable right now that you only want to cuddle him, hoping all his insecurities vanish under the morning sun.

“Should we go inside? I don’t really want to worry your mother or sister,”

“If you want. If you need more time, we can stay here a bit longer,”

His voice is quieter when he finally speaks, a hint of relief lacing his words. “I’m better.” The tension in his body seems to ease slightly as he takes a deep breath, his expression slowly relaxing — he’s trying his best.

The soft sound of cutlery clinking against the dishes, the low individual conversations, the baby’s blabbing, and the dim lights on the dinning room shapes a homely ambience.

“You need to see her in action! She’s always been the best cook of the family, you know, Carmy?” Your sister interjects as her eyes light up with nostalgia.

That catches Carmy’s attention. He’s staring at you with genuine curiosity. So, stereotypically, your mom gets up in search of something. “Oh, you have to see her photos!” She chuckles, scavenging for the photo album. “She was so stubborn, wanting to make her own food for her or anyone’s birthdays, always looking for new recipes, she has done the craziest stuff!”

While your mother shows Carmy all your embarrassing childhood pictures, your brother-in-law can’t contain himself, he has to make a joke, and his playful grin gives him away. “I’m glad you’re a chef; she’s not at good as her parents want her to be.”

And your mother frowns, feigning annoyance, as Margot gives him a subtle punch.

“Because you suck at it, child,” Your father quips at him. “She’s good, right? Carmy”

Carmy considers for a moment, his gaze shifting from one sibling to another — he can mess up things if he doesn’t pick the right words. “Objectively, she’s quite decent. Some of her pastries are better than mine.”

You had plastered a lovesick grin on your flushed face. “I was born gifted, you see,”

He relishes in your soft giggles.

Your sister chuckles at the little scene your both doing, sharing a knowing look with your mother. “She was in diapers, building mud cakes outside, in the front yard…” Her stare lingers on you for a bit. “Do you remember, mom?”

Your mother nods, a fond smile on her lips. “Of course I do! Both of you treated your sister like she was a toy,” She teases her children. “Look at this, Carmen, she had been everything by the age of four.”

She finds her favorite picture of you, a huge smile paired with a set of eyes mimicking two big stars. “You were so cute.”

Your cheeks flush at his candid compliment, grateful for the levity that’s now enveloped the conversation. The shared stories and gentle teasing ease the tension, allowing Carmy to glimpse the playful dynamics of your family. He’s relaxing, finally starting to feel comfortable being around so many people that expected a lot from him.

Staring at each other, you both smile. And you don’t miss the dreamy sigh from your sister. You decided to give him a faint peck on his lips — earning a few ‘yuck’s and ‘wow’s from the kids.

“Okay, lovebirds!” Your brother said, rolling his eyes in feigned annoyance — but Carmen can’t read him at all.

Not wanting him to sour the moment, your sister fights him back, “Why’s your girlfriend not here, uh?” You feel Carmy tense beside you as his hand flies to your thigh. To ground himself, to brace his rushing thoughts.

He’s expecting confrontation.

Your brother only frowns, “Funny,”

And Carmen’s so stiff, he could break if you push him. By means to help him, you whisper into his ear. “She didn’t come because Mag told her she was a milquetoast” He looked at you sideways with a confused expression. “Was recently, tho, she’ll be fine.”

Your brother shrugged and seemed to be worked up about something your sister said, but you couldn’t catch it. “Stop treating my girlfriends like they’re your friends! That’s what happens.”

Margot would rather die than not have the last word; she was provoked. “Stop bringing girls that can’t take a joke!” You could hear a few choked sounds as they tried to repress a laugh. “They’re just bland as you…”

But that was enough for your dear mother, “Margot! Stop mocking your brother, you’re acting like teenagers again!”

“I think it is the midlife crisis…” Said your brother-in-law.

Your sister laughs theatrically, bending his neck to throw her head back. Just to come back and stare directly at your brother with a big smile. “Something we have in common!”

“Carmen, dear, you want more?” Your mother whispered to him, trying to keep the conversation for the both of them only.

She understands he is fairly timid and awkward.

He smiles at her, into her wrinkled eyes that carry a joyful gaze, at her delicate and low voice tone. “Oh, no, I’m fine, thank you—thank you… I—uh, it was fine” He feels like he’s making that weird face, and your mother’s smile grows. And before continuing, he runs a hand over his face and his already messy curls, “Sorry—it was great, I don’t have this type of homemade meal often.”

She nods, glad he doesn’t lie or coat her in praises. It’s nothing out of the world but has other qualities; it tastes like childhood, like home, like your best day under the sun. It tastes mundane and, at the same time, magical. And he can’t wait to be a recurring guest…

“I’m delighted you liked it. She should prepare meals like this more often for you… because I’m sure, she’s always eating like a princess.”

Carmy nods, feeling his cheeks flush under your mother’s discerning gaze, particularly as they discuss you. “She is. I care about her”.

Your mother places a reassuring hand on his, her encouraging smile not going unnoticed, “It shows, Carmy,” He feels on the verge of tears again. Hearing that he’s doing well is a rarity; he only ever hears it from you. While it’s enough, he wishes his family did the same. “You’re a great guy.”

A knot tightens in his throat, and all he can manage to mumble without breaking is a quiet: “Thanks—“, He won’t fight your mother’s words.

“You should come over for the holidays… we spend a week on the coast. My parents had a great house there, and it’s lovely,” breaks in your father, “Everyone would love to see both of you there…”

Everyone is nodding, excitement filling the air. You probably had the best memories in that beach house. But Carmy’s eyes are glued on the table, his fingers absently tracing patterns on the back of your hand.

As the invitations hang in the air, an uneasy tension settles between you both — shouldn’t you respond to that should you?

The weight of the offer, the promise of belonging, and the haunting fear of judgment gnaw at his thoughts. And he’s spiraling again.

Your mother, in hopes of comforting him, takes his hand. “Oh, yeah, child, we’re a bit messy but nothing too bad… you’ll like it,” She’s nonchalant about it; she doesn’t want to pressure him. But the oldest of her daughters had to interrupt her. “—Baby sister loves it! You’re going to love it there too.”

Carmy smiled and gave them a quick nod. Your father makes an “ok” with his hand, and your lovely boyfriend stops being under the spotlight.

In the car back home, under the low-volume radio, he sighs, his voice tinged with resignation. “I wish I could just… step into your world without feeling like I’m going to mess it all up”. His words carry the weight of his insecurities, the years of feeling out of place and never fitting in.

You reach for his hand, squeezing it gently, your silent support a comforting gesture amidst his internal turmoil. “Carmy, they want you there because of who you are, not who you think you should be.”

His eyes leave the way for a second to meet yours. You catch a mixture of yearning and gloom reflected in them. “I know, but… what if I can’t be what they want me to be?”

The ache in your chest matches the one in his voice. You can hear how he’s fighting within himself, the desire to be loved and accepted warring against his self-doubt. He was raised to feel like that. “Carmy, you don’t have to pretend. You don’t have to be perfect. They’ll accept you for who you are, flaws and all. I mean — they invited you over. They don’t do that often. My mother loved you!” It sounds a bit more gleeful than you expected. All because you’re excited he’s welcomed into the family.

He lets out a bitter chuckle, his shoulders slumping. “You say that, but it’s not that simple for me.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air, erasing your smile. And he regrets them the instant you recoil in your seat, even though it’s an unconscious action.

A second passes, and for him, it’s like minutes are splitting you, carrying you away from him. He doesn’t know what to say; he’s resigned, waiting for the consequences.

Again, it was a nasty point of view from his mind. You reposition yourself on the seat before speaking. “Carmy, we’ve been through a lot together. We’ve seen each other changing and for good. And I’ve always been there for you, if you still need space, time… it’s fine. We’ll find a way out, yes?”

He parks the car, and then his eyes search for yours. He longs to be better, to know better. For him, the restaurant, his family—for Sugar, for you.

“I don’t think I deserve you.”

A sad smile touches your lips. “Just because you’re going through a hard time doesn’t mean you’re less worthy. I loved you in New York, and I love you like this. Your past and present emotions and thoughts don’t get a say in what you deserve or not, especially when we’re talking about nice things.”

“But I’m—“

“—Carmy! You won’t make me change my opinion” Your tone is softer than severe — you’ll never be severe.

And he’ll never be unloved.

“Did you realize you didn’t bring the pepto?”

a/n: Shitty ending, I KNOW I’m sorry… If I keep writing, I am going to end nowhere, so it has to end like this JDKKW. Hope you enjoyed <3. Reblogs/comments/likes are very appreciated <3

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[mikanotes]

HEART TO HEART

seo yul x gn!reader | 4.3k words

genre: mutual pining, soulmates au

warnings: mentions of death, injuries, and hypothermia. made up stuff for the sake of my little soulmate au and a lot of confusing explanations sorry! might be ooc i haven’t watched aos in a while. not fully proofread

synopsis: A careless mishap with a dangerous artifact leads Yul to unknowingly lose half of his soul, and unknowingly attempt to get it back.

author’s note: in my seo yul era again

There is so many sounds around Daeho. People talking, the sound of each syllable that leaves their lips, the sound of each breath they exhale, the sound of laughter echoing around walls and steps all around the city. There is nature, the wind passing through the leaves of each tree, the sound of water droplets falling along a waterfall, birds’ wings moving and stray cats jumping on roofs.

There is so many sounds around Daeho, yet you feel as if you cannot really hear any of them.

There’s a tornado around you— A storm. It is made of every sound and feeling and it swirls around but you cannot feel. It is like watching the world breaking apart but seeing it from another place.

Where are you really?

Your name echoes around you.

The sound of a voice, warm and familiar. Home. Yes, this must be home. The voice that holds you gently, brings you to peace and helps you stay alive.

“Come back.”

Seo Yul.

“You’re finally here!” Choyeon nearly cries, hurrying over to join her friends. Jang Uk, Seo Yul, and Park Danggu. She sighs and frantically looks around, as if checking if anyone could be watching, before leading them inside with a pull to Danggu’s hand.

“What happened? The maid said it was urgent.” Uk says calmly, clearly confused. Choyeon seems restless. Yul doesn’t want to think of the worst, because it could really be something that isn’t at all urgent. But there’s this slight hint of genuine fear in the girl’s eyes that makes him do it, think of the worst, even if for just a second.

“There’s… Something happened, they’re unconscious, and…” her words are clear but too fast to make sense and all that he catches is your name and the word unconscious. “It’s because I’m clumsy and all, but I really didn’t mean for this to happen—”

“Slow down.” Uk laughs in slight shock, “Unconscious?”

“What exactly happened?” Danggu steps in. The girl looks at him with arched eyebrows and upset painted all over her expression before she finally sighs and turns away.

“It’ll be easier if you see.” she says, then walks towards a more secluded part of the gardens near Songrim. It’s near a small lake and close to a large, abandoned study room. There’s bushes and flowers all around and it’s enough to make for a beautiful spot to get alone time. Or hide something.

Choyeon pushes the large doors open. The room really is abandoned. There’s old desks and chairs stacked at the sides and some of the windows have been left ajar. Yul coughs because of the dust the second he steps inside, before waving his hand around in the air and squinting. But then everyone stops in their tracks, so he looks at the center of the room and his eyes widen.

This might really be urgent.

“… What happened?” Yul finally speaks up for the first time since his arrival. He was fine with his friends asking questions because they were the same he had in mind— But the scene in front of him urges him to talk.

You’re standing up straight in the middle of the room, the fabric of your clothing flowing in every direction despite the clear lack of wind inside the room, your eyes are closed and you don’t look anywhere close to awake. The place is at a fairly normal temperature, but it’s like a storm has formed specifically around you, much colder than the rest. A striking red ribbon is held tightly between your fingers.

You seem so… Calm. Yul feels a discomforting chill running down his spine.

Choyeon sighs quietly, biting on her bottom lip while thinking. The silence that follows Yul’s question stretches out for a long while, everyone clearly trying to make sense of the sight in front of them. It seems clear the girl who knows anything about it is hesitant to speak. Yul moves a bit closer to her. “Choyeon. It’s okay.” he says softly. He tries to sound reassuring. She looks up at him and shakes her head. He frowns a little. “Jin Choyeon.”

“We can’t help if we don’t know how they ended up like this. Please get on with it.” Uk complains, though everyone present knows his tone is a bit more worried than it is irritated.

“They held the Soulmates’ Fabric.”

Yul tilts his head a little, puzzled. “Soulmates’…?”

“Fabric.” she repeats, then sighs. “It’s… To summarize it, it’s an artifact from the Jinyowon— The fallen lovers’ spirits possess it. People used this to check if their lover was their soulmate or not before a wedding. Two parties hold it, it’s… It’s a ribbon, and if they’re soulmates it will show the fabric of fate linking their pinkies.”

Yul glances at your hand and figures that’s the red ribbon in your hand. Such a small thing— It looks as if he could wrap it around his wrist maybe twice, like a bracelet. Cursed artifacts really are just anything.

Uk chimes in. “And if they’re not?”

“Nothing. The spirits just laugh in their faces.”

“And if only one person holds it?” Yul asks. Choyeon looks at him and gulps, before glancing away.

“Their soul is trapped in there.”

“And why… Did you even have this? Simple curiosity.” Danggu asks. Choyeon shrugs a bit dramatically and turns away. The man blinks a few times before his eyes widen in realization. He points his finger towards his own chest, “Us?!”

“Well, yes.”

Yul feels his patience wearing thin and closes his eyes to calm it. He looks at Choyeon, “How did they end up holding it?”

“It flew away from my grasp, they just tried grabbing it for me..” she says, holding up her hands— Covered by silk gloves, protecting her in a way you visibly weren’t blessed with. “The doors to this place were wide open so we ended up here.”

Yul glances at you and sighs. Something tells him solving this won’t be easy.

“How do we get their soul back in here?” Uk asks, pointing towards your body with his thumb.

Choyeon sighs, again. It’s clear she’d hoped to avoid this since her friends arrived, despite knowing she would have to say it if this was to be solved.

“Their soulmate needs to hold the other end of the fabric.”

“You’re kidding…”

“This could take ages.”

“I know!”

Yul can practically see how cold the storm around you is. He can practically feel the threat of death attached to your body, missing its soul. A vessel without a soul is bad news. Without its soul, the body does not take long to… Heavens, no. He takes a step closer to you and lets his friends’ arguing become background noise for a moment. You’re eerily still.

“Is it safe to move them?” he asks.

“I think, but the problem is more so actually managing to do it.” Choyeon replies, “The storm is stronger than you might think.”

Yul tries, anyway. He takes a step forward and moves his hands to hold you. His skin feels like it’s freezing the moment they enter the storm surrounding your figure, and it gets about ten times worse when he manages to grab ahold of your arms. The very fact that you’re enduring this makes him feel like he might lose his mind if they don’t find a way to stop it. He grinds his teeth and tries to pull, ignoring his friends telling him to quit it as well as the burning that the cold cuts him with, and keeps at it for at least thirty more seconds before he’s forced to stumble back.

This is bad, he thinks. He’d hoped your body wouldn’t be too affected by the cold because of its unnatural nature, but upon closer look, a lot of signs indicate you’re more than affected. Freezing much faster than a person ever should have been. Truly just a body with no soul.

Uk looks at him, hand firmly holding his shoulder after shoving him away from you. “You won’t have a hand to hold the fabric with, if you keep this up.” he says sternly. Yul glares a little and moves away from his hand.

“That would be a futile effort. I figure I’d only be trapping my soul, too.”

“I mean, would you?” Danggu asks, brows furrowing. The question is directed at Choyeon, now, who should clearly have more extensive knowledge on the whole thing, “Did the people who use this have to hold it at the exact same time or else one of them got trapped? That seems… Inconvenient.”

Choyeon shakes her head lightly and walks over to a table in the room. There, a large and old book about artifacts and customs sits on the surface. “There’s something they would recite. Like a… A spell. Or a poem, I think? I was too panicked to read all this, but… I think that’s what protected their souls from being taken if they weren’t linked to each other.” she explains, frantically going through the book. “But Yul is right. Since their soul is already trapped, him holding the fabric would only work if they’re sure to be soulmates.”

“Well, might as well try.” Uk scoffs, “Besides, who could it be if not Yul?”

The latter looks down and scoffs. His friends’ teasing on his very obvious fondness for you would usually not have much effect on him besides giving him mild embarrassment, but today it feels a bit different. The words sound sour to him in these circumstances.

“This might be life or death.” he says quietly, and repeats it louder when Danggu asks what he said. He looks up, “At this rate, their temperature will only continue to drop. They’ll be dead and frozen in less than a few hours.”

Choyeon makes a sound of discontentment and concern before speaking, “Isn’t that too precise?”

“Master Heo taught me enough to know this much. We all know this.”

An overbearing silence follows that statement. It’s hard to claim the teachings of Daeho’s best physician are wrong, and Yul is right, and it makes it all the more difficult to process. You are hanging in the air in the middle of a freezing storm and their chances of saving you are incredibly slim. Their hope is quick to slip away.

There has to be a way. Your soulmate could be worlds away, for all they know. Yul would be willing to set out on a quest to find whoever it could be and drag them back here if it came down to it, however he doesn’t have the privilege of having so much time. So, “Is there another solution?” he asks, gaze focused on Choyeon. 

He must look somewhat different because the girl’s eyes widen for a moment and she looks towards Uk. “Well,” she looks back at him, “Breaking almost any artifact would render it incapable of executing their usual magic, which means this one too… Probably.”

“We can’t base ourselves off a ‘probably’.”

“I— Just look in the stupid grimoire, then!”

So he does. He walks over to the book and lets Choyeon move aside before pressing his hands down over the edges of the pages. Soulmates’ Fabric, cursed souls, history, spell recital, remedies… There are only two pages on this artifact, which means all their solutions had to be hidden somewhere there. 

Or that there is not a solution.

“Why did our elders have to be so damn dramatic?” Uk sighs in annoyance, and conversation ensues behind Yul. He doesn’t bother keeping up with anything that’s said.

“Trust was especially important at the time.”

“Yeah? For their image and reputation?”

“Can’t be all too different from right now, then.”

The story of the Soulmates’ Fabric claims two souls reside in that ribbon, lovers who were doomed to never be together yet perished at each other’s side. Impossible to get this ribbon off their wrists, even in death— They cursed it, whether they meant to or not, and the piece of fabric could only be taken once their bodies had entirely vanished.

It then became a custom to see if the spirits approved, or rather, if they could confirm if lovers were meant to be before they could marry. One of the spirits known to be kind, and gentle with their approach— The other much angrier, still understandably bitter over their fate. It’s said if two are soulmates, the kinder one will tie the ribbon around their fingers. If not, the cruel one will mock them. However, the method growing to be seen as too much of a risk, the ribbon was sealed in the Jinyowon for years to follow.

Yul’s gaze moves around the page, looking over words about the way the custom used to go, the way people saved themselves, but he struggles to even find a single sentence about a situation similar to yours. He focuses on a specific part, which sounds a lot like a poem, though it isn’t the one he saw earlier to recite before the ritual.

If one foolish enough to be trapped all on their own,

Mind numbed by the illusions of the Eye of the Storm,

Only their lover may find a way to wake their heart,

Or curse themselves with our wrath dare they injure us a cut.

To the abyss and away from their love they will depart,

With us shall never part.

“Curse themself if they dare injure them with a cut?…” he mumbles to himself, eyebrows creasing in confusion. He takes a deep breath and rereads it ten times, then looks back at the story of the souls. It is said they couldn’t remove the ribbon from the lovers’ tied wrists even after their death. Lovers fated to be apart, tying themselves to die together if they can’t live together. Then…? His eyes widen in realization.

“I’ll hold it.” he says suddenly, turning around. The group startles and looks at him. “I’ll hold the fabric right now, but I need you to do something in case it goes awry.”

Danggu nods hurriedly. “Good, anything, because they’re freezing over here.” the blonde says, moving his hand away from your arm and clutching it with his other. It’s red from the cold.

Yul swallows thickly then takes a short breath. “If it goes wrong, I need one of you guys to cut the fabric with my swords.”

“What?”

He continues, “I think if someone cuts the fabric they’ll be cursed by the spirits, but it will free the one that’s trapped.” he explains calmly, and sees Uk scoffing in disbelief as he listens. “So if it comes down to it, cut it. With my swords. Make it known I’m the one willing to be cursed.”

“What happened to ‘we can’t go off a probably’?” Uk mimics, air-quoting him, “You only said you think. Not that you’re sure. And what if it curses us anyways?”

“You’re right. Making the situation worse isn’t something I’m willing to risk.” Yul says dismissively, unsheathing the swords at his sides. “I can cut it myself right now.”

A hurried chorus of ‘no!’s follows that statement and Danggu jogs up to his side.

“Okay, let’s just… talk first.” he says, and glances at you for a second before adding, “Fast.”

“What is there to talk about?” Yul asks.

“Well, what— What’s the deal with the curse? What does it entail? Why would it happen?” Choyeon questions, “I mean, it makes sense a spirit would want to curse the one who breaks their artifact, but what’s their reasoning?”

“It’s the only thing that kept them together. In death, when they couldn’t be together in life.” Yul says, “It’s nothing short of cruel to cut it. But it… is a way to solve this.”

“And what if you’re soulmates?” Uk asks, crossing his arms, “What if it could be solved much more easily?”

“And if we’re not?” Yul counters, expression hardening, “I don’t want to risk it.”

“We would be risking much, much more if we lose both of you to a ribbon.” Danggu argues.

“I’m sorry,” Yul starts, fingers tightening around one of his swords, “But you are not changing my mind on this. Try as you might.”

“Yul…”

The second sword drops to the floor as he lets it go and he uses the distraction of the sound to take the few steps needed to get to you again. Otherwise he knows Uk will stop him.

He steels himself for the incoming pain and grabs the fabric in your hand before he can overthink it more. He holds it tightly and hisses at the cold, but tries to pull to bring your arm higher. You’re like a statue. It’s almost impossible to get you to move at all. Frozen. The storm is beginning to surround him, a slow but sure sign of his soul being pulled somewhere away from his body— Though he has no way to know if it’s to the abyss of the fabric’s realm or simply to meet yours. He cannot afford to wait and see.

The cold rushes through his own blood the longer he remains there, and he’s sure that the cursed souls are too close to him to risk staying still any longer. 

He had planned to immediately strike his sword against the artifact the moment he would get a tight enough hold of it, but now that he’s there, it proves to be much more difficult than he’d anticipated. His body feels heavy and his heartbeat is so loud in his ears that he cannot hear his friends’ yelling.

No, this isn’t my heartbeat, he realizes, mine is hurting my chest from how fast it’s going.

It’s yours. You’re still alive.

He feels as if his fingers may be turning numb, and worse, his mind as well. If this keeps up, his stupid plan will have been for nothing and Danggu will be right. Losing both you and him. He doesn’t care about anyone losing him, but it cannot be for nothing. So he focuses, and he finds any bit of strength left in him. With a yell, he swings down his sword just as the words “I’m sorry” attempt to leave his lips. Pointless apologies to souls long gone.

It cuts right through the red piece of silk.

Clang. His hand goes limp and his sword falls.

He sees you fall to the ground before he feels his own body do the same. His head hits the wooden floor, hard, and he feels like he’s lost his breath for a few long seconds. He’s spent— He swears he doesn’t have any strength left in him at all, otherwise, he would have crawled to you to make sure you’re not frozen and dead. His arm is extended on the floor, his end of the ribbon in his hand, and the other in yours still. His sword is somewhere else in the room but he doesn’t know where.

He blinks slowly, trying his very best to stay awake, but it becomes incredibly difficult. The pain and exhaustion are begging him to succumb to sleep but he cannot allow it yet. He can vaguely make out words of worries from his friends, but everything sounds far away. He tries to move, but all he can do is tighten his fingers around the small piece of ribbon. A thought crosses his mind as he looks at it, something that makes him feel even more confused than the fall already did.

Other than the cold in his veins, that is slowly fading away, Yul cannot feel anything close to a curse on him.

Is it not immediate? Why has he not heard the resentful screams of anger of separated lovers? Why is he merely battling his way to staying awake and not out of a fate worse than death? Was the curse a mere myth, or the true struggle a test of strength and will?

Through a half-open and hazy gaze, Yul swears he sees something odd happening. The red silk ribbon, cut cleanly in the middle, beginning to reconstruct all on its own. Fabric made out of air, slowly growing longer from both ends of the torn bits until they inevitably meet again in the middle.

And a translucent red ribbon, like a vision of sorts, tying around both yours and his pinky fingers.

The individuals will, if truly soulmates, see the ribbon tying around their pinkies. The book must’ve been right, but severely missing information. It really is doing just that, but there was nothing written about it fixing itself after getting cut. Then again, there wasn’t a tale of anyone ever trying before.

Yul breathes out something close to a laugh just before he loses grip of his consciousness and passes out, unsure of where he will be when he wakes up— If he ever does. Whatever happens, as long as you’re alive, it will have been worth it.

When he opens his eyes, at first, he’s in a dark space and laying down. He hears whispers and feels energies threatening enough to make him reach for his swords— But he finds he cannot move.

“Was there ever a curse to begin with? Tales this old are riddled with truths and details lost to time.” a voice says, and it seems to echo— Like two people are speaking, “What do you believe?”

— I don’t know.

“You were merely getting the missing half of your soul back. Who would curse you for such a thing?” the voice (voices?) laugh, “It seems clear they would’ve done the same, too.”

When he opens his eyes, the second time, it’s for real and he’s gasping for air. I was spared, he thinks. He sits up hurriedly and looks around, his head spinning so much at the sudden movement that he threatens to fall from the table he’s on. 

Table?

“Please do not move so quickly!”

He breathes heavily and looks around through half-lidded eyes. He’s at Sejukwon. He looks to the side and sees you on the second table in the room. You’re sitting already as a nurse fixes up an incense of sorts, and your eyes are trained on him— Wide and surprised. “Yul!” you exclaim, “What in the world?”

He just stares at you for a bit, lips parted without a single word coming out. “Are you okay?” he asks. There’s clear signs all around him that he really woke up, this time around, and that this is reality. But part of him wants to hear you to be sure. 

“You…” you sigh, closing your eyes for a moment. Then you give him a look of disbelief that makes it clear the others have told you about what he did to get you back— and that this really is for real. He feels his mouth tugging into a smile and his body relaxes again. 

“One could argue you’re worse than I am, you fool.” you scoff, “I’m… Well, I almost died of hypothermia, alright. That’s a feat. But I survived.” you deadpan, eyebrows furrowed, “However you have a concussion.”

He wouldn’t have it any other way. “Good.” he says.

“Not good, are you insane?”

He finds himself laughing at that and slowly lays back down, because he seriously thinks he might fall over if he doesn’t. He doesn’t mind the worried look the nurse gives him as she leaves when he continues to laugh, either. He’ll say it’s because of the concussion. He’s just relieved.

“Oh, so you really are insane.” you scoff.

A silence follows. He looks at you. You’re staring at him with a look of relief, which makes him wonder how much you worried while he was out. It’s past sunset already, so the room is slowly losing its light. Things are quiet around Sejukwon— They always are so the patients aren’t disturbed, but even more so when it’s later in the day. There’s no more worries.

Only thoughts about what happened means for you.

He calls your name and you hum. “Did they tell you?” he asks quietly, almost whispering, “The others.”

“About your heroic tales of saving?“ you half-joke, “Yes. They did, before leaving because it got late. Thank you.” this time, your voice loses its sarcasm halfway. Your expression is much too genuine for those thanks to sound anything but, anyways. He laughs.

“I meant the ribbon. What it meant.”

“We’re soulmates.”

Yul has to make an effort to breathe. You say it so easily, like it’s such a natural thing. And it… is. You are literally meant to be, it could not be anything more natural. In a way, it could make sense you would be so casual about it. But he also feels like he might be close to fainting all over again from how much these words make his head spin, so he can’t entirely agree that it does.

“Yes.” he pauses, to breathe, “That.”

“You don’t sound happy.”

“Please don’t tease me.”

You laugh slightly and get up from where you were sitting. You walk over to him and stand at his side. He stares up at you and smiles. “I’m happy.” he says, “I’m happier than I probably should be considering the circumstances.”

“Good. Me too.” you say, then your expression grows more serious. “I’m sorry you had to suffer this much to bring me back.”

“It’s okay.”

“I know it is. That’s your problem, Yul.”

“It is, isn’t it?” he chuckles, “Unfortunate that our souls are linked. I’ll try not to inconvenience you more than necessary, but I can’t do much about that.”

“Your nature of putting your life on the line for someone you care about, you mean?” you scoff, “I’ve been used to it, anyways. But the way you say this makes it all sound very official.”

Here comes his worst fear. An exaggeration? Maybe. Not entirely. He’s spent years at your side, and well over half of them pining after you. And though it was apparently evident to anyone that saw you two that the feelings were reciprocated, saying anything about them was terrifying. But now you’re soulmates. Or rather, you’ve always been. It doesn’t actually change anything. 

But it does give him the guts to actually ask. This is as much courage as he’ll ever get, anyways. So he sits up and stays quiet for a moment, then turns to look at you.

“Would you like to be with me?”

[fev3rish]

HAII this has been stuck in my head, but I just can’t even believe this

 ami wakita x fem singer reader

Where reader is just flirting with her the entire time with this song, I need it please PLSSS

HOT TO GO ! ami wakita x fem!singer!reader

ami has been neglecting you, so you decide to take matters into your own hands.

warnings. unproofread, ami possibly being ooc? i dunno!! imagine that i held her at gunpoint to say and think everything that was narrated, idiots in love ??🙏😭, freakishly corny, i love ami wakita

notes. hi baby! thank you for being my lovely first request<3 i hope you enjoy this! i didn’t hit the exact mark, but i hope it suffices. also, lowercase is intended + i LOVE chiho and ami so i snuck a bit of them in💋

you wake up alone staring at your ceiling.

you tried not to care, but it hurt your feelings. ami was a busy woman and an even busier journalist—she had interviews scheduled nearly every week, and when she didn’t have one, she had press conferences to attend. you tried to get in touch with her,  to text. all you got in response? at most, you got an “i’m sorry, I’m really busy these days:(“—at worst? she left you on read.

 you knew ami didn’t mean to; the little apology fruit baskets that made their way to your doorstep were proof of that. it still made you pouty, though! your favorite girl ever, wasn’t able to spend time with you. you still had time to call her, and when you did call her, her eyes were glued to her laptop but you knew she was listening! you knew she was listening, with how she so (impossibly gracefully) gasped at the right moments, and how she had asked you questions to keep your conversation going when you seemed to be losing spirit. you knew she wasn’t trying to neglect you, but then again, so what if she was? you weren’t even lovers. 

not yet.

you’ve had your eyes set on her for a long, long time. her pretty face is the subject of many of your dreams, and her smile is your sun at this point. you sit up in bed, staring at particularly nothing—it’s a rare free day today. you have no interviews to go to, no gigs scheduled, no fan meetings, nothing to do at all… it’s nine, and the radio’s on. chappell roan plays—her newest hit. hot to go wasn’t typically your style, but it did resonate with you a lot—you even considered covering it, maybe it’d get the message across? you do have a live gig next week, one of your biggest ones yet. maybe she’d tune in?

you squeeze your eyes shut, wishing on some imaginary star—praying to whoever was above, to whoever pulled the strings. 

if she’s meant to be with you, she’ll tune in at half past three. if she’s meant to be with you, she’ll watch your performance on live television, & maybe, just maybe, she’ll send you a text.

ami wakita’s jaw is on the floor.

chiho sits next to her, looking at her mother and then at you, ‘auntie’, through the screen. you’re jumping around in your pretty little outfit, and ami knows that she’ll probably hear your complaints about how bad your feet hurt from a mile away with how you’re running in those freakishly high gogo boots. the crowd’s eyes follow you as you segue into the next verse of the song you’re covering, & ami’s eyes just get a little bit wider.

i wake up alone staring at my ceiling…

ami knew this was about her, but she didn’t know she had been neglecting you that much. it shouldn’t have bothered her, you weren’t her lover. 

i try not to care but it hurts my feelings!

but she also wouldn’t mind if you were.

you point to the camera infront of you, and ami feels chills go up her spine at how striking your eyes are. “you don’t have to stare, come here, get with it!” you sing, and ami feels her cheeks heat up. she watches as you stomp your foot down onto the stage, and your voice comes out frustrated.

no one’s touched me there in a damn hot minute!

ami chokes, and hopes that chiho who has busied herself with her ultraman figures—making them dance to the tune—didn’t hear that. 

and baby, don’t you like this beat?

she does, it’s jolly, and it fits you so well. you’re glowing; you’re so beautiful.

i made it so you’d sleep with me!

she chuckles, even though everything in her is screaming that she could, and that she would—and that she wants to. she wonders how she didn’t realize it before, it was so obvious. the chemistry you two had was so good, and she didn’t feel it before but she does now. what better time than now to accept that you’re a really pretty girl, and she really, really likes you? maybe she was a bit late, but it is better late than never!

it’s like a 199 degrees—

when you’re doing it with me!

your eyes sparkle as you practically plead to the camera, hoping that she’s watching. “do it with me!” you point to the camera once more, wildly smiling. the audience seems shocked by your audacity but nevertheless they seem to enjoy. that’s good, you live to serve.

h-o-t-t-o-g-o…

snap, and clap and touch your toes,

raise your hands, now body roll,

dance it out, you’re hot to go! 

you guide the audience through the steps, laughing as some try and fail to keep up but persist through it all—and you wonder if ami is trying to follow you, too. you know chiho is, chiho is definitely nailing it right now. 

h-o-t-t-o-g-o…

snap and clap and touch your toes,

raise your hands, now body roll,

h-o-t-t-o-g-o!

ami is struggling but she’s doing something for sure, and as she tries to body roll—dancing along with chiho and her ultraman figure, she laughs. you really did know how to get a party going.

the chorus comes and you’re bathed in light, you’re dancing all around and even the cameraman is dwindling a bit, trying to dance himself. that was your effect on people, ami thought, at first sight—people just wanted to follow you. the bridge comes, and she stands, awaiting your next lines and completely ready to have a dance-off with chiho if the girl tries to challenge her mother.

what’s it take to get your number?

well, you already have hers…

what’s it take to bring you home?!

if it’s you? not that much, actually.

hurry up, it’s time for supper,

order up, i’m hot to go!

she can tell. you’ve sent the message quite well.

what’s it take to get your number?

you’ve always been so persistent, ami thinks—but she could never really resist you, especially when you pranced around on stage so prettily.

hurry up, it’s getting cold!

she opens up your chats together, and realizes that the last text you sent her, one she shamefully forgot to respond to, was literally just today. and she left you on read. she cringes in embarrassment.

hurry up, it’s time for supper!

order up, i’m hot to go!

and there it is—the crowd follows your moves as you finish the song, and ami looks at the message you sent, the one she left unanswered, and decides that she doesn’t want to send you a text. she wants to see you right now.

chiho watches her mother rush to get ready to “meet auntie”—and she holds her ultraman mask out to her as a suggestion to really complete the look. ami’s eyes soften, and she ruffles her hair before leaving her in the care of grandma. she mentions having unfinished business, and that’s all her own mother hears before she’s out the door. 

you should not have run around so much.

your feet are killing you. you limp into the nearest bench behind the stage, ready to call an uber or something to get you home. you were famous, but not famous enough to have a whole chauffeur. you’re one second away from dialing when a familiar face makes its way into your point of view; ami.

you nearly jump out of your skin.

“hi—“ you start, but you can’t say anything else because damn, are you nervous. ami was so pretty. you were going a bit crazy.

“hello,” she replies, curt—elegant, but curt. she’s so pretty, oh god, oh god, oh god—“i’m here to take you.” she continues, a knowing smile on her face. your embarrassment is evident. “take— take me?” you ask; it’s a way to confirm, to clarify that this is really about to go where you hope it’s going. ami tilts her head and her smile only gets wider, she holds out a hand and you take it. she says three words, and they confirm everything. you have most definitely, without question, won.

“hot to go.”

[rainystarshower]

Helloo, can I request priest! Dan Feng x fem! Demon reader? Where Dan Feng is devoted to his God but ends up being in love towards reader, a demon. But he would never admit his true feelings and was in denial, and that denial led him to go the church to ask for forgiveness from his God like "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned" and just blamed reader for making him fall in love, thinking she puts a spell on him or something. He was concentrating but then reader shows up behind him to annoy him as usual (you can come up with the scenario yourself, but if you can, please make reader have a teasing/flirting side since she's a demon)

‘Lovely Sinner’

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chara : Dan Feng

cw : fluff, preist!dan feng, demon!fem reader, mentions of HCQ, modern-ish AU?, mentions of make-up, incorrect displays of Christianity (I’m Muslim lol...), ooohhh a flirtatious reader hehehehehe... Possible OOC with the lovely Dan Feng

a/n : HCQ MENTIONED EVERYBODY STAY CALM... I had 0 expectations when I started this, I HEAVILY doubted myself so try to bear with me here......... Also sorry that this is late!! Been losing motivation recently...

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‘That’s wrong.’ Dan Feng, laying on his bed, thought to himself. Over and over again, thinking about how wrong it is... How wrong it is, that — he, Dan Feng, a priest, has fallen in love with a demon? A demon of all creatures?! He’s a priest, a well respected one at that! You just appeared in his life out of nowhere, and decided to cling yourself onto Dan Feng. For what? He did nothing to deserve it — right?!

Oh but how his heart fluttered everytime he had thought about you. He was in denial, for so, sooooooo long! Now he’s here, laying in his bed as his heart almost leaps out of his throat at the constant thought of holding you! It drives him insane!!

“That’s it. It must’ve been a spell!” He says, getting up from his bed with determination. He needs to go to church, he needs to pray and ask his father above for forgiveness. That was the only logical explanation Dan Feng could think of — of course you casted a spell on him! Surely if he asks God for forgiveness, the spell will be lifted — no?

...

“Heading to church?” Yingxing asked, watching as Dan Feng was heading out. “Yes, I’ll be back as soon as possible.” His voice shaked. He couldn’t let anybody know about his greatest sin. No, not at all. After all, being in love with a demon is a far more grave sin than any other.

“Dan Feng!” You call out to him as he’s about to pray. He decides to ignore you, not even attempting to bat an eye towards you. Which, agitates you, so you call out again. Again, he ignores. He’s too focused on his prayer. He has to ask his father in heaven for forgiveness! He must!

So you stand in front of him, looking directly at his face and interrupt his prayer by slightly pushing him to the side. “You interrupted my prayer.” He scowls at you. You merely scoff in response. “Well, you were ignoring me and my good looks! I had to do something about it.” Your tail peeked out, wagging a little in joy he finally placed some attention to you. Dan Feng caught notice of your tail, and felt a bit flushed. ‘How adorable’ He thought.

And there, oh how the realization hit... You? Adorable? Blasphemy! You’re a demon! Dan Feng is devoted to his God, finding a demon such as yourself adorable is a sin, a tremendous one!

You caught him, a bit flushed, to which you took the opportunity to tease him for it. “Oh? Am I really that irresistible that you can’t help but blush?” You lean closer to him, smirk on your face, his breathing subconsciously stopping. “No, not at all. You never will be.” He refuted. What a blant lie...

You chuckle, causing his heart to skip a beat. “You and your blasted spell...” he mutters under his breath, inescapable to your ears. “Spell? What spell?” You sat yourself besides him, leaning a bit back, using your hands for support.

He stares at you, a bit perplexed. “The spell you casted on me... The one that makes my heart yearn for you.” Yearn for you? This was the first you’ve heard of this... “you’re a demon. You’re capable of such things! You caused my fantasies!” he tried defending himself.

“a spell...? Fantasies...???” you ponder to yourself. Your mind concentrated on wondering ‘what the hell is this guy talking about...?’ he stares at you in anticipation, hoping you would realize and undo whatever spell you casted upon him.

“explain your symptoms — fantasies in more detail.” you ask. In response, he obliges and starts to talk about his symptoms. The symptoms of where he wants to run his fingers through your hair, watch you put on make-up and occasionally help you, hold you as you drift off to sleep in his arms, let you do his hair in whatever style you want — all of it.

You could feel your heart thumping more and more as he continued talking about his ‘symptoms and fantasies’. Your train of thoughts was running wild, until he broke it with one simple sentence. “the spell that caused me to fall in love with you.” he admitted, looking you directly in the eyes which the moonlight was reflecting on. Hell, he looked so pretty...

You forget to speak. Dan Feng, looking down, thinks to himself. Just as you’re about to say something, he cuts it off with a quick kiss. He’s fallen in love, he can’t deny it. “It’s not a spell, is it?” Dan Feng asks you, pulling you closer to him, watching your face slightly blush before you let a grin break free. “Nope, you’re just a dummy in love” you tease. Instead of him getting upset, he grins back — kissing you once again in the church, moonlight falling upon the two of you. “Gorgeous woman, you are, aren’t you?” he surprisingly teases back. Your response being: “a thousand men could die to have me”

———————————

His grin, unfaltering as he kisses your cheek. “yet I am that one alive man, which managed to have you”

HOLY SHIT WHAT WAS THAT?????????????????????????????

[speedingkamori]

Jealousy | Scout x Reader

Warnings: once again just a short little story to get back in the swing of things.. not proof read/edited, a bit angsty, GN! Reader, characters might be a little OOC it’s been awhile ._.

Scout never considered himself to be the jealous type- I mean? Why would he? He was handsome, funny and clever… but things changed when it didn’t seem like you thought that.

You we’re different, he’d never felt like this about anyone before. He was head over heels and watching the way you fawned over the other mercs drove him crazy.

You two were close, so he was always there when you’d smile so sweetly at Medic and say “thanks doc! You’re the best! I can always count on you!”

The way you’d compliment Heavy’s muscles, having him lift you up of the ground or feeling up his arms. It felt like you had something to say about everyone on the team, everyone except him.

It all came ahead when the two of you we’re hanging out with Sniper, watching him shoot a few targets just to waste time. The two of you were talking quietly amongst yourselves when you looked over, watching as he knocked down a target that was so far away you could barely see it.

Much to Scouts displeasure your attention shifted.

“Woah! That was amazing!” You exclaimed. You placed your hand on Snipers forearm. “You’re a real good shot! I’m impressed!”

Scouts face immediately dropped, his brows furrowing as he glared daggers at the two of you. Sniper chuckled softly, waving away the compliment.

“Nah, it was nothin’… anybody could hit that.” He shrugged, a light blush dusting his cheek that Scout was uncomfortably aware of.

“You’re kidding! I certainly couldn’t…” you shake your head.

“Why don’t you give it a go?” Sniper gestures to the gun. You seem hesitant at first before laughing nervously and slowly taking the gun into your hands. Snipers hand finds it’s way to your hip as he adjusts your positioning, speaking directly into your ear to give you advice.

Scout lost it, he’d never been so angry and hurt before. He immediately scoffed and left, slamming the door on his way out. It didn’t take you long to trail after him. You called out his name but it fell on def ears, only until you were close enough to grab onto his arm did he finally turn around to face you.

“Where are you going? I thought we were having fun…” you say quietly.

You found it hard to look into his eyes when he was this furious. He clenched his fist but didn’t yank his arm away from you, something about your touch calmed him even now.

“Fun? Sorry I don’t really think it’s ‘fun’ to sit around and watch you two get cozy with each other…” he spat. He watched as your face fell. You sputtered, trying to think of what to say but the only thing you could buster was a meek.

“Sorry…”

He laughed, rolling his eyes. “No, no. Don’t be. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for! You’ve made it pretty clear I’m not the one you want! I’m sorry for thinkin’ I had a chance!” He looked away, a few tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “I’ll just go runnin’ back to Miss Pauling with my tail between my legs…”

“Scout, please just listen.” You beg, your grip on his arm tightening.

“I’m tired of listenin’…” he tried his best to steady himself, his breathing becoming uneven and he kept his face turned away from you. “Because the only thing I ever hear when I do is ‘Engie you’re so sweet! Wow Spy you’re so cool!”

If the situation weren’t so tense you probably would’ve laughed at his impression of you, his voice cracking as he tried to pitch it up. There was a long uncomfortable silence between the two of you before you finally found the courage to speak up.

“Scout… I think you’re the coolest.”

“What?” He looked back at you, blinking a few times like he heard you wrong.

“I think you’re cool… and funny.” You sighed. “You always make me laugh, and you’re always there when I need you.”

He cracked a small smile, it was bitter sweet hearing you say everything he wanted to now when there was a threat of losing him.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better…” he let out a small laugh, shaking his head. Despite all the hurt it was nearly impossible to stay mad at you.

“No I really mean it… and I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.” You step a bit closer, giving his arm a gentle squeeze in an attempt to reassure him.

“Why are you tellin’ me all this now?” He asked, his expression souring again.

“Because I’m realizing now how bad I messed up.” You sighed, your gaze falling on the floor. “I thought, if I made you jealous… you’d finally make a move.”

Scout was a bit taken aback, he thought being subtle was what girls liked- that’s what spy had told him anyway. Although, the more he thought about it, it made more sense. To avoid making you uncomfortable he had been avoiding you quite a bit.

He began to laugh, the absurdity of the your misunderstanding settling in. He reached his free arm around you, gently scratching the back of your neck.

“Well, it definitely worked.” He said quietly. “I really didn’t like seein’ you getting so close to the other guys…”

You couldn’t help but laugh with him as you blinked away the rest of your negative feelings.

“I know, I’m sorry I put you through all that…” you smiled sheepishly. Scout snorted, leaning down to talk into your ear. Now that he was certain about your feelings he was planning on laying it on pretty thick.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, doll… although, how ‘bout you make it up to me over dinner?”