AGHHHH BIKER!ALHAITHAM HAS POPPED INTO MY MIND AFTER WRITING THAT ASK AND NOW I MUST SHARE IR

Favorite Muse (Model!Uzui Tengen x Photographer!Reader) Ko-fi Request

Sooo yes another request for kimetsu no yaiba with our flamboyant Tengen Uzui.Maybe an a/o/b fic (I like how you write them) or an modern au where Tengen is a model (instagram models?) And reader is sort of his personal photographer .I dont mind if you mix the two together.

I’m sorry this took so long, I hope this finds you with some good timing since season 2 is finally out and it is Uzui in all his glory. I’d like to write more stories and blurbs with a photographer/model relationship, this one was a fun one to write. thank you so much for the support! I hope you enjoy!!!

title: Favorite Muse

pairing: Uzui Tengen/Reader

rating: slight nsfw

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I have a new shoot idea I want to try.

You glance at your phone, blinking in surprise over the top of your energy drink. You glance at the familiar contact name and look back to your current editing project—the wedding photos should be done by the end of the night if you keep on track. You’re scheduled for a few more shoots in the morning and had planned to kick back as a little reward to yourself.

You consider your options briefly. A new string of texts follow the first, and you know it’s just him trying to incite you even further for whatever crackpot idea he’s come up with this time. You know with how he is, he won’t let it drop if it’s an idea he’s especially fond of, even if it means a half-nude shoot in the middle of the god damn Antarctic because somehow—

The one and only elusive model Uzui Tengen’s photos—they always sell.

You can tell him no, suffer the consequences of having him barrage you for the next few days, suffer the even harder consequences of having one of the girls try to persuade you into doing it—you’re particularly weak to Hinatsuru’s advances—and also miss out on a chance to make some extra pocket change for what you get as Uzui Tengen’s one and only private contractor and photographer. But, what you do get in return is a peaceful, stress-free night to yourself, which is hopelessly and utterly rare and your body is rather beat and haggard after all these back-to-back shoots and especially that god damn rock climbing advertisement, you shouldn’t have done that one. 

Or, you could say yes; get paid handsomely because Tengen’s photos always sell well, get to eat Hinatsuru’s cooking because she’ll have heard you’ll be stopping by the studio and would make sure something’s ready, get to partake in the luxuries that surround the Uzui household, get Uzui off your back for about forty-eight hours max…

Your phone is still being spammed with texts. You ignore them, staring at the happy couple smearing cake onto each other’s faces. When Uzui and the girls finally get a proper wedding in place, you’d take those photos in a heartbeat. You know they’d be the kind for the record books.

Your phone lights up now with a phone call. You suddenly consider turning down the offer out of spite, nursing your energy drink with dull eyes. Your gaze does stray, however, to the pile of take-out containers sitting on your work desk. You frown at them, feeling your stomach churn at the thought of Hinatsuru’s warm porridge…

Your stomach wins. You swipe your phone, pressing it to your ear.

“Finally! What are you doing not picking up my calls at this hour?” you hear music blasting from Uzui’s side and suddenly wonder if you’ve made the wrong choice. “I know, are you getting off on my photos? You can just come and I’ll help you out. No need to play by yourself.”

“What’s this idea of yours?” you say, checking your schedule. If Uzui leaves you alone for the next two days, you can schedule a day-off after the male calendar shoot… yeah, this can work out! “If it’s the frosting idea in a different theme, I’m going to cut all ties with you—”

“You love taking my photos too much,” Uzui says, sounding bored. “I want to do something good for Valentine’s. A single theme, straight-forward, nothing crazy this time, actually.”

“The most flamboyant man on earth,” you say flatly. “And it’s nothing crazy?”

“It’ll be more than enough, baby,” Uzui says. You imagine him kicking his head back, lounging on some kind of leather couch tucked into a dazzling club somewhere or another. The man’s got too much energy, too much stamina, and you’re not really sure where he keeps it. “Less is more, you know?”

You do know. You always tell him those exact words. But for Uzui Tengen, it’s either go big or go home. That’s why his shoots always require you to clear out your schedule the day after because they’re far too arduous for you to do anything else.

“I don’t like how secretive you’re being with the whole thing,” you say, clicking to clean up another photo. “Give me something to mull over. I’ll be there after seven.”

“Six.”

“Seven.”

“Fine, but you’re staying until it’s done.”

You nod, even though he can’t see it. You get the feeling he knows anyway though because he continues, “One word theme. Think about it however you’d like, sweetheart.”

You wait, tapping a finger idly against the minimizing key. You hear the music dull in the background, wondering if he’s moving away from the source of noise. His side quiets, and all you hear is the faint rustle of fabric, and then you imagine Uzui’s phone pressed against the side of his face, maybe held up in his hand, right by his mouth—

The husky, low alto of his voice nearly catches you off guard for a second. Uzui whispers it, sweet, like honey against your ears.

“Seduction.”

Keep reading

words to use instead of

as 

while 

when,

whilst

 even as

 just as

 just when

 simultaneously as

 so long as

 at the moment that

 at the same time that at the time that

 in the act of

 in the process of 

on the point of

during the time that

 at the same time as

 during the time

 throughout the time

 in the time

 during which

 during which time

for the period that

 at the same time

 meanwhile

 at the time

 as long as

 exactly when

 at the very moment that

at the very time that after

 as soon as

 immediately when

 immediately after

instantly when once

looked

glanced 

gazed 

stared

gaped

peered

focused 

 peeped 

peeked

took a look

taken a look 

watched

considered 

saw 

seen

observed 

viewed

regarded

marked 

checked out

glimpsed 

spotted 

eyed 

took in 

taken 

in ogled

eyeballed 

beheld

beholden 

before

ahead

back

previously

since

sooner

afore

aforetime

ante

antecedently

anteriorly

before present

ere

fore

former

formerly

forward

gone

gone by

heretofore

in advance

in days of yore

in front

in old days

in the past

past

precendently

previous

up to now

smiled

beam

grin

laugh

smirk

simper

be gracious

express friendliness

express tenderness

look amused

look delighted

look happy

look pleased

touch

brush

caress

feel

handle

hit

kiss

lick

pat

reach

rub

strike

stroke

tap

abut

adjoin

border

communicate

contact

converge

dab

examine

finger

fondle

frisk

glance

graze

grope

inspect

join

line

manipulate

march

massage

meet

neighbor

osculate

palm

palpate

partake

paw

percuss

pet

probe

push

scrutinize

sip

smooth

suck

sweep

tag

taste

thumb

tickle

tip

toy

verge

be in contact

butt on

come together

feel up

impinge upon

lay a finger on

exhaled

breathe

emit

give off

let out

discharge

eject

emanate

evaporate

expel

issue

respire

steam

vaporize

nodded

acknowledge

bend

bow

greet

respond

salute

acquiesce

agree

approve

assent

passionate

ardent

dramatic

eager

eloquent

emotional

expressive

fervent

fierce

fiery

forceful

heartfelt

heated

impassioned

intense

poignant

spirited

strong

vehement

violent

zealous

affecting

animated

blazing

burning

deep

fervid

flaming

frenzied

glowing

headlong

high-powered

high-pressure

hot

hotblooded

impetuous

impulsive

inspiring

melodramatic

moving

precipitate

quickened

steamed up

stimulated

stirring

thrilling

warm

wild

but

although

however

nevertheless

on the other hand

still

though

yet

gasped

choke

snort

whoop

blow

convulse

gulp

heave

inhale

inspire

pant

puff

respire

sniffle

wheeze

catch one’s breath

fight for breath

frowned

glare

glower

grimace

pout

gloom

lower

sulk

cloud up

do a slow burn

give a dirty look

give the evil eye

knit brows

look black

look daggers

look stern

movement

act

action

change

development

evolution

exercise

flow

migration

move

operation

progress

shift

advance

agitation

alteration

swirled

boil

churn

roil

twirl

whirl

agitate

coil

crimp

crisp

curl

eddy

purl

roll

snake

surge

swoosh

whirlpool

whorl

wriggle

fruits basket ⇢ THIRD TIME’S A CHARM ft. hatori sohma

a three-step guide to hatori sohma’s heart.

wc: 3k

warnings: smoking. talks of soulmates but not really a soulmate au. f2l but you’re more like hatori’s annoyance (affectionate). he’s a simp in denial. fluff with one grain of angst. self-indulgent because i miss my seahorse bae

one: try to get into hatori sohma’s interests.

“i didn’t know you smoke.”

hatori turns to the sound of your voice and upon seeing your approaching figure, he instinctively scoots over to make room for you on the bench by the river.

“occasionally.”

“can you do that thing?” you raise your index finger to draw invisible circles in the air. “you know… smoke rings?”

“yes.” when your eyes light up, he quickly adds: “but i won’t.”

“you are not fun at all,” you tease lightheartedly.

for the first time since you sat next to hatori, you take a look at your surroundings—maybe it was the zodiac curse but despite the already bright green landscape made technicolor by the variety of flowers peppered among the trees and the glitters of sunlight on the clear blue waters, you don’t remember the sohma estate being so alive and vibrant.

bit by bit, you soak it all in before sliding your gaze over to the man beside you as he takes another drag. even with his somber expression, he still looks beautiful from behind the cigarette.

tearing your eyes away from him, you notice a pack of squares peeking out of his lab coat.

“can i try?” you ask.

hatori follows your line of sight and immediately shoves the small carton deeper into his pocket. “no.”

“why not?”

“it’s not good for you.” you open your mouth to protest but he interjects. “stop asking.”

“do one smoke ring then i’ll stop.” at your request, hatori looks at you as if his patience is wearing thin but you don’t budge. “if you never wanted to do it, you should’ve just told me you couldn’t.”

he pinches the bridge of his nose as he internally curses in frustration because you’re not wrong.

“fine,” he concedes, visibly against his will.

genuinely captivated, you keep your eyes trained on hatori’s lips, completely oblivious to the fact that his composed demeanor is now mere pretense and right underneath is a man extremely self-conscious and hyperaware of your close inspection. suddenly, his throat feels dry and his hands clammy.

he’s thankful you’re too preoccupied to notice.

forcing his thoughts away, he puffs at his cigarette and with his mouth formed into an “o”, he blows out a smoke ring. he waits until it fully takes shape in front of you before fanning it away, deliberately ignoring the awestruck gleam in your eyes.

“you have to teach me that,” you enthuse.

“i thought you said you’d stop asking.”

as a doctor, hatori is aware not only of the dangers of tobacco, but also the greater risks of secondhand smoking. and it’s his job to make sure you don’t suffer from any complication—not you in particular, he tells himself—so in spite of his cigarette still having a few drags left, he drops it to the ground and crushes it beneath his heel.

he’s just doing his job.

two: ask hatori sohma if he believes in soulmates.

shortly after sundown, swirly hints of orange and pink have begun mixing with the incoming muted shades of blue across the sky, the temperature of the wind dropping with it—rather rapidly due to the ocean breeze—but that doesn’t stop anyone from going for a swim, save for those dotted about the sand, and giving life to the seafront which only grows brighter due to the lampposts along the perimeter.

however, the oddness of your question pushes the scenery to the background as hatori searches your face for any telltale sign that you’re messing with him. you’re not.

“what brought this on?” he asks.

“just making conversation.”

“have this conversation with ayame.”

unable to count the number of times you’ve rolled your eyes at his curt replies, you’re surprised they haven’t stuck. “can you, at least, humor me?”

“no.”

typical, you think.

walking side by side along the boardwalk, you fall into silence that hatori quickly finds unbearable—which is ironic, considering he’s naturally a reserved man—so he gives in. “fine.”

something jumps in his chest when you turn to him, beaming, but he immediately shoves the feeling down before he can give it any thought.

“i don’t believe in soulmates,” hatori claims. “i think you choose the person you want to be with—or meet them through happenstance, even. but not fate.”

“so…” you drawl, a soft smile involuntarily tugging at the corners of your lips. “you spending time with me tonight—was it by choice?”

you choose the person you want to be with. hatori mentally kicks himself for letting the words roll off his tongue without a care. now you have him right where you want him.

“a coincidence,” he asserts in an attempt to shut you down, already predicting where you’re going with your ribbing. “you were alone and i happened to have some free time.”

“which you chose to spend with me,” you counter triumphantly but even the melodious laughter from your lips fails to blunt the daggers he’s now throwing your way. “okay, sorry. sorry. but assuming soulmates exist, who do you think you’d be with right now?”

“i don’t know,” he answers in one breath.

“what would you be doing right now?”

“i don’t know.”

“you’re the worst.” you huff, finally dropping the subject.

and he’s grateful because he’s lying.

he does believe in kismet.

bound by the curse for most of his life, it was as if he’d been walking on a path that was already carved in stone and waiting at the end of it was his fate with no one to share, only his for the taking—so like some sort of paradox, he refuses to acknowledge destiny altogether, even after the spiritual ties had already been cut. it’s all he’s ever known.

besides, indulging in the idea that something written in the stars could ever be within his reach—even if it was right in front of him taking after your image—is like setting himself up for heartbreak and disappointment.

and hatori sohma’s smarter than that.

three: say “i love you” to someone else.

“you’re quiet today,” hatori says.

“has shigure not annoyed you enough that you actually want me to talk?”

you know shigure hasn’t because he’s been gone for a while now, along with ayame, and hatori’s choice to stay behind is enough for you to assume his friends are up to some shenanigans he couldn’t care less about.

“you’re only half as bad as him,” hatori jokes, a small grin playing on his lips and you can’t help but smile back.

truth be told, your playful exchange can only do so much to mask your feelings until they threaten to spill out of you as soon as you open your mouth. and though you’ve surprisingly managed to keep them under control this whole time, it’s as if you’re constantly being pulled towards opposite ends of the spectrum.

hatori has his way of being within your proximity and still seem so out of reach—you’re never sure if he’s suffocatingly close or you want to be smothered by him.

but you can’t tell him that.

“i’ll just go for a walk,” you say instead.

the sudden announcement causes a look of worry to form on hatori’s face but despite the warmth blooming in your chest over his concern for you, you convince yourself it’s just the doctor in him.

of course, he cares. he cares about everyone.

“are you alright?”

“yeah, i just need some air.”

you leisurely tread the pathways of the estate, mentally counting your steps to keep your mind occupied but eventually losing track anyway as your thoughts drift back to hatori.

before you know it, you’re sat by the lakeside which you instantly recognize from the first time the sohmas took you to their family cottage for an outing.

“care to share the woes of your heart?”

the familiar lilt of ayame’s voice—and his dramatic language—soon echoes in the wind and a smile makes its way to your face, finding his theatrics somewhat comforting at a time like this.

sitting next to you, he asks again. “something on your mind?”

“it’s nothing.”

“perhaps this will lift your spirits?” he plucks a wildflower from the ground, presenting it to you. “may i?” when you give your consent, ayame delicately tucks it behind your ear, leaning slightly further as if to admire his work. “so beautiful and ethereal. truly out of this world.”

“stop.” you say, giggling as you take the flower out of your hair and lean on his shoulder. “thank you, aya. love you.”

ayame rests his head on top of yours. “i love you, too, darling.”

unbeknownst to you, hatori followed you quite shortly, unconvinced by the way you brushed off his concern. but he doesn’t expect to find you with ayame, lax and cheery as opposed to you being closed-off earlier—with him, the voice in his head adds and he wishes he could strike it off.

“can i ask you something?” hatori hears you ask his friend but it’s the familiar question which follows that has his ears perking up. “do you believe in soulmates?”

hatori’s not one to listen in on other people’s converstions so without waiting for ayame’s response, he heads back to the cottage, suddenly feeling like an intruder.

“i know that’s just your face but… why the long face?” shigure asks.

hatori groans. “shut up.”

whatever shigure is about to say dies in his throat as ayame enters through the front door alone.

“where were you?” shigure asks him, acknowledging his arrival.

“i was at the lake with y/n.”

“oh?” the former dog incarnate shoots hatori a knowing look, though he continues to address yuki’s brother. “and what were you two doing?”

“i was wandering around and found her lonesome. like a poor damsel in distress in need of a comforting shoulder so i let her take advantage of me.”

hatori winces at ayame’s ill phrasing. “did you have to say it like that?”

leaning closer, shigure whispers low enough just for hatori to hear. “maybe she needs your comforting shoulder, too.”

“i told you to shut up.”

hatori gets up to leave before shigure can get another word out—he knows shigure will get another word out. with no set destination in mind, his feet move on their own accord. soon, he’s at his usual spot by the river.

you cross his mind again. recounting the events from today, he fails to pinpoint what caused the shift in your demeanor—if he caused it. it only leads to more questions because what did he even do?

he pushes his thoughts away, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette to clear his head but when he sees you walking in his direction, he decides against it.

“why do i always find you here?” you ask as soon as you join him where he’s stood at the riverside.

“it’s peaceful.”

“i’m guessing shigure finally pushed you to your limit.”

“i spoke too soon.” his dry humor coaxes a chuckle out of you and it’s only then hatori realizes how much he missed the sound of it. “i saw you with ayame today.”

“he just stayed with me for a bit. seeing me all by myself must have been too depressing even for him.”

“are you sure you’re okay?”

“mhm,” you hum in confirmation. when hatori doesn’t pry further, you change the subject. “remember when i asked you about soulmates and you told me to ask ayame instead?”

“i remember.” and you did, he doesn’t say out loud.

“well, i did. and he does,” you tell him. “believe, i mean. he said meeting his soulmate would be a beautiful surprise—something about braving the search for the uncertain making the discovery all the more blissful.” you smile as you recall ayame’s words. you can’t fault him for his flamboyant idealism because you know he has a big heart to show for it—it’s who he is. “i know it’s ayame we’re talking about but i think it’s nice to believe in something like that.”

“do you?”

how a question so concise can hold so much weight, you don’t know. but something in the way hatori asks you feels like the load has been dropped to your chest.

i don’t believe in soulmates. to this day, you still hear hatori’s words loud and clear and it’s like your heart is going to cave in. because you do—at least, you want to believe in it.

“i don’t know... maybe?” you suppose that’s the safe answer. “maybe soulmates exist but not everybody gets to meet theirs. sounds unfair, doesn’t it?”

“you can’t let that hold you back.”

a chuckle erupts from your lips though the sound is free of humor. “i’m scared i’ll meet my ‘soulmate’,”—you air quote the word—“and they don’t feel the same way.”

“if they are what you say they are, i don’t think you should worry about it.”

“and if they’re not? i don’t know if i can handle that.”

hatori takes him time mulling his words over before settling on a response. “you can avoid it altogether but there’s nothing worse than spending your whole life thinking what could’ve been…”

you glance at his direction and catch him smiling to himself wistfully as if he’s reminiscing a fond memory. you wonder if he’s thinking about kana.

you’ve never met his ex-fiancée but from what you’ve heard, they seemed to be the epitome of fated lovers had akito not meddled. and as if the knife hadn’t been twisted enough, hatori was forced to erase kana’s memories—being the only sohma to possess that ability—to free her from the torment of her entanglement with the binds of his curse which, in turn, had become hers as well. all because she loved him sincerely.

without any recollection of her relationship with hatori, kana is now married to someone else and hatori seems to have moved on.

you look away from him, staring straight ahead and feeling ashamed because it feels so wrong to use that in your favor but…

“you think i should just go for it?” you ask hatori.

“i do.”

“even if it’s you?”

your voice comes out a whisper but the immediate hush from hatori, amplifying the tension encompassing you both tells you it’s enough to bring everything at a standstill.

the longer his silence drags on, the deeper your heart sinks. you can only wish that in its descent, it crushes the butterflies in your gut, putting an end to your foolish feelings once and for all. but you know it won’t.

just like how you’ve fallen for him, no depth is deep enough—your heart will just have to plummet endlessly. maybe time will numb you but you’re certain that one way or another, you’re always going to have love for him.

“this is the part where you tell me off,” you say in jest but it falls painfully flat.

“if i told you i feel the same way, would you start believing then?”

if it was possible for your entire system to shut down in an instant, you’re almost convinced that it already has because with your breath catching in your throat comes the pounding in your head that matches the beat of your heart hammering wildly against your chest.

you muster enough courage to finally look at hatori, almost flinching when you find him already staring at you. and with that, everything begins to fade out of focus until it’s just him—laying himself bare for the first time and yet, you’re the one who feels disarmed.

even at the zenith of your emotions, his touch still grounds you as his thumb gently swipes over the apple of your cheek. “you’re crying.”

“i’m nervous,” you sheepishly mumble.

“i think i’m the one who should be nervous. i heard you say you love ayame.”

you can never tell with the monotony in hatori’s voice so for a moment, you think he’s crushed but when you only find the affection he holds for you in his eyes, you decide to poke fun at him in your usual good-natured fashion.

“jealous?” despite the shake of his head, a smile creeps across hatori’s face. “he’s my friend, too. i do love him. and shigure. a little.”

hatori laughs—an actual laugh, you note—and closes the distance between the two of you, pulling you into his embrace as he presses a chaste kiss on your temple.

as infuriating as shigure’s teasing may be, hatori realizes it’s the little push he needed to take another leap. ever since what happened with kana, the notion of falling in love again seemed too big a risk but now standing on the edge with you, he doesn’t mind the free fall at all.

but hatori swears to die before he tells shigure. otherwise, he’ll never hear the end of it.

“i can’t believe you actually like me,” you mumble against his chest. “is it by choice or you know… ‘happenstance’?”

releasing his hold on your torso, hatori gently cradles your face in his palms, his purple eyes staring into yours so lovingly that it’s in full contrast with the words that come out of his mouth.

“i almost forgot how vexing you are.”

your smirk morphs into a full-blown grin. “you’re not answering my question.”

“figure it out yourself.” his words are muttered against your lips before he captures them with a kiss that swiftly grows in fervor, setting your nerves ablaze—and like ice to a flame, you melt into his touch.

the whole world is soon forgotten—just the two of you in motion as time freezes, giving way and lending itself generously to prolong this moment for your lover to commit to memory. perhaps this is the universe remembering what it owed him and handing it over on a silver platter.

there’s no more binding promise to tie hatori down but careful not to push his luck with jinxes, he doesn’t say anything definite. maybe it’s fate, maybe it’s coincidence, maybe it’s neither or both but one thing is for certain: hatori believes in soulmates.

how else would you have found a way to get under his skin and on his nerves then straight to his heart?

SOFT(ish) ANGST PROMPTS

“  i thought you were gone.  for good. ”

“  you left and—  i thought you weren’t coming back.  ”

“  i miss you.  i know i’m not supposed to,  but.  i just had to see you.  ”  

“  please don’t scare me like that again.  i can take a lot of things,  but not losing you.  ”

“  i can’t even take the very thought of you getting hurt.  ”

“  you could’ve gotten yourself killed! you could’ve— fuck!  you scared the shit outta me.  ” 

“  yes.  i am telling you what to do.  i’m telling you not to pull something like that again because—  ‘cause fucking hell.  i care about you.  okay? ”  

“  i found myself driving home and then.  well i was on my way here.  ‘cause i guess…you’re still my home.  ” 

“  please,  tell me why you’re upset.  tell me who did this?  ”

“  you don’t have to come over here and take care of me you know.  i can clean up my own messes.  ”

“  don’t talk.  just get the fuck over here and hold me.  ”

“  loving you is like having my heart just out in the world.  outside of my body walking around.  every time i see you hurting,  it kills me.  ”

“  i made you cry.  and i hate myself for that.  i swore i wouldn’t be one of the people who left you hurting.  ”

“  you really hurt me this time.  but i want to let go of that.  i really do want to forgive you i’m just scared you’ll hurt me again.  ”

“  i know you’re mad at me right now,  but i’m the one who’s here.  let me be here.  let me help.  you can be angry later.  ”

“  i’m here now.  i know i wasn’t before.  but i should’ve been.  and i’m not going anywhere.  i’m not gonna let that happen again.  ”

“  it’s time to come home now.  ”

“  that’s enough.  you’ve got your revenge.  let’s go.  ”

“  i know you’re hurting.  and i can’t fix that.  but i can refuse to let you hurt alone.  ”

“  i’m never letting go of you.  i missed you so fucking much.  ”

“  look at me,  you’re safe.  and you’re not alone.  and i’ll never let you be alone again.  you understand?  ”

“  i broke my promise to you once.  i’ll never do it again.  ”

“  i don’t need you to go white knighting and fix all this.  i just want you here.  with me.  that will make me feel better.  ”

“  just stay still and let me hold you.  ”

“  you don’t have to hide your tears.  let it out.  then we’ll move on,  together.  ”

“  i just.  needed to talk to you ‘cause.  somehow you always know what to say.  ”

“  don’t bury your feelings.  sadness.  hurt.  rage.  feel it.  acknowledge it so you can decide what you want to do with it.  not what it will do to you.  ”

“  i miss your smile.  and not that sad one you try to fool everyone with.  the real one.  the one you used to show me.  ”

“  come here.  i’m taking care of you tonight.  and you’re gonna let me.  ”  

1) our muses reunite after sender thought receiver was dead. 

2) our muses reunite after receiver thought sender was dead. 

3) sender shows up at receiver’s house drunk after they’ve broken up. 

4) receiver shows up at sender’s house drunk after they’ve broken up. 

5) our muses are on bad terms but reunite after one of them nearly dies. 

6) sender finds receiver crying and approaches,  clearing the tears with their hands while demanding to know what happened. 

7) receiver finds sender crying and approaches,  clearing the tears with their hands while demanding to know what happened. 

8) our muses haven’t been speaking,  but sender rushes to take care of receiver after they’ve been injured or fell ill. 

9) our muses haven’t been speaking,  but receiver rushes to take care of sender after they’ve been injured or fell ill. 

10) sender hurt receiver in some way,  which led to receiver doing something reckless and sender shows up to stop them/or deal with the aftermath. 

11) receiver hurt sender in some way,  which led to sender doing something reckless and receiver shows up to stop them/or deal with the aftermath.

12) our muses are in a fight,  but cuddle anyway because they don’t like sleeping alone. 

13) receiver wakes sender from a nightmare. 

14) sender wakes receiver from a nightmare. 

15) sender wakes up in the hospital and finds receiver at their side,  who is in the same clothes as the day they were admitted because they’ve refused to leave their side. 

16) receiver wakes up in the hospital and finds sender at their side,  who is in the same clothes as the day they were admitted because they’ve refused to leave their side. 

17) our muses are currently on the outs,  but receiver goes through something traumatic and sender pushes past their friends to get to them. 

18) our muses are currently on the outs,  but sender goes through something traumatic and receiver pushes past their friends to get to them. 

MIDNIGHT HAZE — rin itoshi.

— notes ⨾ ive been shying away from posting this for too long now. [ sensual/making out ] and heavy on the details hahahs

Rin takes note of the way you're shrinking in your seat beside him, how your arms are protectively tucked in your sides and the subtle but sharp inhales.

from his peripheral vision, he can see that you're gnawing on your bottom lip, gulping hard to swallow your sniffles because he knows you don't like to be seen crying. which is why he's not sure why he's in his living room with you beside him at 2 am watching some sappy sad movie you picked. it's been an hour already since you started your movie marathon and he could've suggested you watch a horror movie instead— but he didn't, and he thinks he regrets it now.

He sighs, pausing the movie and reaching for the box of tissues he's glad he set on the table just in case. he offers it to you, smiling a little to himself when you hesitantly take it, as if you're still not ready to accept you're crying.

“you're such a crybaby” he says. by now a few tears are falling down your cheeks, leaving a damp trail behind in their wake.

“shut up, I'm not. i don't cry often, i swear”, you whimper with the wobble of your lip, and rin laughs. it's the irony of this scenario that swells his heart. you're looking at him with narrow, glassy eyes and warm hues setting on your skin. your words are meant to be firm and legitimate, but you're voice is hushed and low.

“okay, crybaby” he teases, and you pout.

his room glows in a faded shade of honey with the paper lamp you bought him as a housewarming gift. there's nothing but the sound of his steady breathing, and your quivering one. a touch of the scent of lemongrass from the air freshener lingers in the air and rin realises he's been staring at you.

there's still a dampness sticking to your cheeks and rin wants —such a treacherous thing to do— to trace his finger along the trails. feel the smoothness and warmth of your skin. when you realise he's looking at you, embarassment blooms in shades of fuchsia, “stop staring at me like that.”

rin hums. he heard you, doesn't think much about it. and before he realises what he's doing, he's caressing the side of your face. it's a ghost of a touch at first, “staring like what?”

“like you're doing right now” you breath hitches in your throat at the tenderness of rin's caress. momentarily closing your eyes, you lean into his touch. his gaze devours you whole, it makes you want to shrink further into the couch, but at the same time— daring you to wait and see where it takes you.

when all you can hear is the loud thumps of your own heart, watching the steady rise and fall of rin's shoulders as he's gazing through the soul window of your eyes, you're painfully aware that the two of you are alone.

“can't help it,” he mumbles. “god, you're beautiful” he says.

the faint glow of moonlight strips lines of silver across the room, and rin's bathed in luminescence. you can't help but trace the sharp white cut of his collarbone and the flutter of his eyelashes, over the broad expanse of his chest and the slopes of shoulders down to the ridges of hard muscle roping the length of his forearm. you take in his light. he takes in yours.

there are too many details. too much to breathe in yet not enough at the same time. a drug-like midnight haze encompasses the room, the air in the room is electrified and frozen still. rin's fingers travel down from your cheekbones to the corner of your mouth, then brush lightly against your chin.

you can't think. can't say anything. it's like your voice is caught in your own throat. all you feel is the heaviness of the air and the brushes of rin's fingers across your skin. mind blurring with the lines of a countless ‘what ifs’ and moments you've felt the same heaviness in the air, times when the glances you steal from each other lasted longer than they should've.

you swipe your tongue across your bottom lip, and rin's eyes follow the action. his gaze rests there and your falls to his.

there's a momentary pause, as if you're caught in a trance. as if there's hesitation and doubts filling the spaces left behind your words. rin's eyes are still set on your slightly parted lips.

and then it breaks.

you feel it in the form of a shiver running down your spine when the lightning in the room reaches a breaking point, you think rin feels it too. there's a shift in his shoulders when he leans forward at the very second time melts into infinity— a magnetic pull drawing you both in.

rin's other hand supports his weight when he practically crawls on all fours and rolls forward on the leg tucked beneath him.

his lips surround yours— desperate, heated, almost obscene. it's nowhere near the gentle caress from before. teeth nipping and tugging at your bottom lip, long and languid glides of tongue against tongue. he breathes in all of your gasps and mewls, chasing after your breaths to consume you whole like he's waited forever for this very moment. breaths tangle in heated knots of passion, you're holding onto rin's arms, aware that your hands are almost shaking. this is not your first kiss. you've kissed people before. but it's your first kiss with rin and he's made you forget there was anyone ever before him.

you pull away first, breathless and hot. it's addictive— the way rin's lips chase after yours, eyes fluttering open when he can't find them. but he's still close. so, so close. forehead resting on yours and hot breaths fanning against your mouth.

his eyes are brimming with awe and glimmer, but lips swollen and sinful. the contrast is striking— awestruck eyes and moon-bruised lips.

rin falls back into the couch, calming his staggered breaths and throbbing heart.

it takes a long minute before either of you speak again.

“do you regret it?” it's a whisper that's almost raw with desperation and fear. rin's eyes are glued to you again, waiting for an answer.

“i don't. i'd never regret it. do you?” though still breathless, your voice is bold.

“regret?—” he chuckles, as if you asked a dumb question, “—you have no idea, how long I've wanted this. wanted you.” it's a declaration— of all his unconfessed feelings, all the times he'd stopped himself just short of the breaking point. “i feel like i'm about to lose my mind.”

“me too”, is all you can say. it's all you can think.

and if rin senses that, then he smiles, “why don't we try that again?”

© seimirii 2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

i hope this is what you wanted m'lady @rinnahhhh

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Story Structure Database - The Story Structure Database is an archive of books and movies, recording all their major plot points;

National Centre for Writing - FREE worksheets and writing courses. Has also paid courses;

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Crime Reads - Get inspired before writing a crime scene;

The Creative Academy for Writers - "Writers helping writers along every step of the path to publication." It's FREE and has ZOOM writing rooms;

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Save the Cat! - The blog of the most known storytelling method. You can find posts, sheets, a software (student discount - 70%), and other things;

I hope this is helpful for you!

(Also, check my blog if you want to!)

— GAME OF TRUST

banda x gn!reader

genre: friends to enemies to ?

warnings: mentions of death, killing, blood, manipulation, alcohol usage, aib stuff, barely proofread sorry lol

synopsis: Being at the Borderlands wasn’t enough, you just had to meet the person you’d told you would kill if you saw him again. Seems like the way you saw things changed during that time.

author’s note: yeah. so i’ve been writing this for days and i’m still not satisfied w it much but i wanted to post it so there you go. i might edit it but! yea!!

Three years prior to the Borderlands.

“Seriously.” you scoffed, bandaging the arm of the boy sitting in front of you. “How many times do you plan to do this, exactly?”

‘This’, referred to Banda, your close friend and unofficial roommate, coming to your apartment unannounced with injuries and blood all over him. Every time, he’d greet you with a sheepish, barely-apologetic smile and get you to let him in with an innocent tilt of his head. You’d have him sit at the counter of your bathroom so you could clean up his wounds.

It’s not that you blindly trusted him. You just couldn’t care less what he did to get injured. What bothered you, however, was—

“I don’t know. Depends on whether or not you’ll continue to take care of me when it happens.” he said, taking advantage of the short distance between the two of you to try and catch your gaze.

— Him. In general. He was a problem in itself. You were used to him, sure, but that didn’t make him flirting with you every other day any more bearable. Especially since you liked him. It was obvious to everyone including the two of you that you had always been friends who were maybe-more-than-that. But nothing ever happened, really. That was just the dynamic of your relationship.

“I’m not your personal nurse.”

“Aw.”

You indulged him and met his eyes, albeit yours were filled with a mix of annoyance and tiredness— A cocktail he seemed to like considering the smile that pulled at his lips.

“You’re so annoying. God.” you whispered, not noticing where your eyes fixated.

“And you’re staring at my lips.” he replied, teasing, “What? Want a taste?” he asked and suddenly got so close to your face you almost stumbled back. Except you didn’t. You looked at him with wide eyes and his smile widened.

Then you calmed down, scoffed, and pushed him back.

“Stop looking at me like that.” you spoke, tone low but not entirely threatening. You clicked your tongue when he only raised his eyebrows, like he didn’t get what you meant. “And stop acting innocent.”

“What about me makes you think I’m not?”

You grabbed a cotton ball of disinfectant and roughly pressed it into a cut on his cheekbone. All that did was make him wince a little and close his eye. You sighed and tossed the cotton ball away. “I don’t know. Everything?”

“Come on.” he exhaled as you grabbed a band-aid at the side. The TV in your living room was quiet, but loud enough to be heard in the beat of silence that passed.

“ — A man from Tokyo College was found dead in a residential area near the university. He died from blunt force trauma after seemingly getting into a fight. Reports say he was at a bar with friends before this. The police suspect a drunken fight with a classmate that turned sour.”

Your movements slowed to a stop.

Banda was getting drinks with some upperclassmen he didn’t like tonight. You knew it because you’d asked him why he even bothered going a few days prior. You knew it because he’d told you he wouldn’t be able to make it to your study session because of it. You’re not sure why all your senses pointed an accusatory finger towards the person you considered your best friend at this moment but you couldn’t help it.

“Sunato.”

“What is it?” he asked.

You didn’t feel your gaze move up to meet his. When you did, he was already smiling at you. You wondered if he had made it a point to intentionally stop speaking at that moment.

“Hm?” he tilted his head.

“Sunato.” you repeated, the name sounding a sour shade of uncertainty on your tongue. “What happened tonight?”

He wasn’t smiling anymore. He didn’t seem annoyed, but you couldn’t read him. The silence that followed your words was suffocating— Unbearably so. Each second of quiet staring was making your ears ring. It was deafening. You wondered if there was any sound at all. Even the TV felt like white noise at this point.

Banda stepped down from the counter.

One step forward.

One step back.

Your bathroom wasn’t the definition of big. But when your back hit the wall, Banda didn’t move more. There was a safe distance between the two of you that he didn’t seem to feel like crossing. Nevertheless in this moment, his mere presence felt overwhelming.

“Things.” he finally answered, quietly. “I pretended to drink a few shots with those third-years. Didn’t try to pretend to like them. They got annoyed and we fought.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “And?”

He took a step forward and came so close you felt all your sensed melt away for a moment. A short moment that felt as long as ever.

Then he grabbed the band-aid from between your tightening fingers and looked up at you. He smiled casually, moving back with a shrug of his shoulders. “And nothing.”

You felt like a weight was lifted from your chest, but the tension in the air didn’t dissipate entirely. Banda peeled off the plastic bits of the band-aid, before staring at himself in the mirror above your sink to carefully place it on his wound.

Then he glanced at you in the reflection. “What? Why are you stuck to the wall like this? You scared?”

You pushed yourself up instantly. “No. Why would I be?” you spoke quietly, turning away to walk outside the bathroom.

“Because you think I killed that man.”

A chill ran down your spine.

“I didn’t.” he said casually, lifting your worries a little, before plunging another knife into your chest, “Mean to, I mean.”

“Sunato.” you scoffed, turning around, only to realize he’d gotten impossibly close to you. Your voice weakened, much to tour dismay, “Stop joking around.”

“Should I?” he mused, tilting his head and searching your eyes. “I’m not joking, though.”

You shoved his shoulder and he only smiled. This didn’t feel like seeing someone you didn’t know. It just felt like he revealed a part of himself he hadn’t tried to hide, but hadn’t spoken about. Like something both painfully obvious and incredibly easy to miss. Banda was serious— He would have killed one of those people if he felt like it. And from the amount of times he’d showed up bruised and bloody at your door, a part of you that made your stomach twist told you he might’ve killed someone already.

“Leave. I won’t tell anyone.” you said, “ But if I ever see you again, I’ll kill you myself.” you spoke before you could think about it.

He didn’t argue, seemingly pleased with your response.

“If you try to kill me, be certain I’ll do the same.”

Present day.

Jack of Hearts.

You sighed audibly as you let the choker click around your neck. Getting used to playing games so much it was a routine was almost worrying. Alas.

You walked up the stairs to the guards’ room and took a long look at every person present. They all seemed to either be grouped up, having come over there with someone, or alone. You walked over to a spot with less people, and leaned against the wall of the corridor. On the other side of it, someone was staring at you.

You turned to meet their gaze. Then your eyebrows furrowed. “… The tag game?”

The boy in a white jacket chuckled. “Nice to see you again.”

You laughed a little as you turned back around. It wasn’t often you met people from previous games again. In this case, it was almost comforting. He didn’t seem all that bad.

Footsteps echoed from the stairs and your attention moved there. You stared at the staircase— People around you didn’t seem really attentive, not really caring about the last player for this game joining in. You had taken the second to last choker. So it could only be that. You figured making sure you saw every player could be useful.

Your eyes widened once you caught sight of the new person’s face. Your gazes met for a split second and you could swear you both scoffed— Although he seemed more like he was laughing.

The first round went by swiftly.

As expected, no one tried killing anyone. It was too early— Too risky. You stepped out of the cell with a deep sigh. You’d joined Urumi’s group so she wouldn’t try and turn the group of annoyingly naive followers she had against you at some point, but no part of you was pleased either. Everything about that girl screamed manipulator.

You started to wonder how many manipulative people were present in this game. Almost unfortunately, more naive ones seemed to be there— Which meant bigger groups to deal with if their leader was against you.

While the first one round went by calmly, you didn’t expect the rest to follow that rhythm. And just as expected, while everyone fell in mostly quiet conversation, the brute from the beginning of the game brought the person he’d decided to pick on to the main room with undeserved punches and kicks. You heaved a sigh at the sight.

The next few rounds were the real start of the game.

When someone told the poor guy to lie to the man who’d been beating him to know the suit on his collar, you weren’t against it. If that man was to die, it would be even better for his victim to kill him. Your only problem with this, really, was Banda Sunato staring right at you as his lips worded out the synonym of ‘kill him’ to the man. You’d chuckled dryly and he only gave you this unreadable look that made you want nothing more than wrap your hands around his neck.

Round four came around.

You were getting tired. You sighed deeply, chest heaving. You tried to focus, really. But it would’ve all been easier if you hadn’t been in the same game as him. Your hands touched the bottles of flavored drinks on the shelf in front of you. “They would taste awful warm. Couldn’t they refrigerate them?” you mumbled, complaining to yourself.

Footsteps slowed down next to you. Irritatingly familiar.

Fingers brushed against the nape of your neck briefly, sending a chill down your spine. “Your suit is Spade.” Banda’s voice whispered close to your ear, “You should be careful of who you trust.”

“Like I should trust you.” you spoke quietly, kind enough not to announce to everyone here that he was just as suspicious as they probably though. You turned to look at him and he smiled.

“Am I not trustworthy to you?” he breathed out a laugh, “That’s five years of friendship you’re ignoring.”

“Fuck off.”

“You’re sweet.” he hummed, leaving you alone nevertheless.

Years. Years without seeing him once. And this is the first conversation you have. It’s almost fitting.

You went and sat at the table the boy whose name you learned was Chishiya Shuntaro was sitting at, along with Ippei Oka. They seemed to be the most two trustworthy of the bunch.

Chishiya was frank. Blunt to a fault. This was assurance that he wouldn’t lie to you. Following the way he seemed to think from the few times you’d talk and overheard him, it didn’t line up with him to lie just to kill. Except if he was the Jack of Hearts and took his time gaining your trust.

Ippei was honest. Overly kind and unable to harm anyone. Your doubts of it being a facade faded once the girl manipulating an entire group of people— Urumi, told them to kill someone. You’d made it a point to stare at his eyes when she finally showed her true colors. There was no faking the terror in his features. Except if he was a really good actor.

You hated to admit but only one person in this entire prison had your entire trust. Ironically enough, it was also the person you told yourself you trusted the least.

You made eye contact with him across the cafeteria and he raised his eyebrows like he was asking you ‘What?’ then a smile, ‘Missed me?’.

You looked away.

Urumi was getting her group to kill someone again. A murderer or another, really. This was a prison, after all.

Round ten.

The cafeteria was probably the nicest place to be when it wasn’t suffocatingly crowded. Which it was, at the moment, despite the amount of players that had been killed already. You grabbed a box of chocolate Pocky and walked out of the cafeteria swiftly. There really was nothing good that came out of staying with people. Especially in these games.

Walking up the stairs, you tore off the packaging before grabbing a stick and holding it between your teeth.

Then someone grabbed you. They pulled you into a corner you hadn’t been paying attention to, and in a second, Banda was leaning against the wall and you were hovering over him. He leaned forward and took a bite out of the Pocky that was still in your mouth and smiled. “Thanks.”

“Really?” you scoffed, finishing the rest as you pushed yourself up, “What’s wrong with you? What do you want?”

“Your cooperation.” he said. You felt your defenses fall the moment he spoke. To be honest every time you two would exchange a few words, the same thing happened. You weakened in front of him. It was like letting him watch you crumble down into his hands without him even having to try— You hated it.

Even after all this time there was a part of you that was too attached to him. Too much to simply move on after the way you ended things. Before everything he was your best friend. He used to be. And that’s why the genuineness in his voice felt this important. Banda Sunato was a liar when he wanted to. He lied as easy as he breathed but preferred to dance around the truth. However this time, he really wanted your help.

You couldn’t see why.

“You have that guy following you around. He looks like he’d trust you even if you held a gun to his head, why are you asking me for anything?” you asked and the usual bite left your tone, unconsciously.

Banda did that thing— Searching for an answer to questions untold in your eyes. He stared and stared and all you could do was freeze in place. Then he would look right at you. Properly.

“You’re the only one I can really trust.”

“So now we’re just lying?”

He chuckled, tilting his head a little, gaze wavering. “I don’t know if you should be talking about lies. Didn’t you say you’d kill me if we saw each other again?” he looked back at you, “I’m still standing. What’s up with that?”

“You would’ve seen right through me. And killed me afterwards.” you only half-lied, “I didn’t feel like risking that.”

He raised his eyebrows. He wasn’t buying it. “I wouldn’t kill my best friend.”

“Banda.”

“Oh, we’re on last-name basis? Sorry.” he said emotionlessly, “I guess you really did mean it when you said you didn’t want to see me again. I thought you were joking.”

You made a face and he chuckled, “Come on. Turn around.”

“That’s awfully authoritative.” you mocked him. He raised his eyebrows, then pushed himself off the wall, closing the distance between the two of you just like that. You flinched a little but he only took a step to the side, then walked behind you.

“Let’s see.” he near-whispered. His fingers settled on the sides of your neck softly but enough to make your chest burn, “That’s Heart.” he said, impossibly quiet and close to you. There was something in his voice when he talked to you sometimes that you hated. It was quiet and low and touched parts of your hearts it shouldn’t. Even years ago, he always acted like this. He played around with your feelings, testing your reaction, for seemingly no reason at all.

Just for fun, you guessed.

You turned around just enough to look at him and he waited. You heaved a long sigh, before grabbing his shoulder and turning him around. He chuckled as he followed the movement, clearly amused by your behavior.

“Diamond.”

“Mm.” he hummed, spinning on his heel to turn back around, “Thank you. I’ll probably need your help in the last round.”

“Who says I’ll help you?”

“Do you genuinely have a good reason not to?”

You took a breath. And then left him.

Round thirteen. Or the last round, according to Chishiya. You were tense— Awfully so. It’s not that you feared dying. Or at the very least, not entirely. But it was more so the quiet plotting, revelations of alliances, last-minute decisions made based on instinct alone that scared you. Chishiya and Banda had both implied this round would be the last.

“Spade.” you spoke clearly. Ten seconds passed.

You tilted your head once the time was up and walked to the door, before waiting. Ten seconds more. Then you carefully and quietly opened it. You were careful to close it just as silently once you heard two familiar voices talking on the floor below you.

“So you do trust me, after all.” Banda said, stepping out of his cell. He was the one to tell you to wait. You almost regretted your decision the second you heard him claim you trusted him again.

“And you trust me.” you replied, reffering to the fact that he was clearly alive after trusting your word on his symbol. “Surprising.”

You looked over at him and saw the man he had seemingly become the ally of walk ahead of him. Banda tilted his head, “Unsurprisingly. Will you wait for me when we leave?”

You looked downstairs for a moment, seeing the suspected Jack of Hearts get cornered, and then looked back up at Banda. “Hm.” you hummed, looking around, “Should I?”

He simply shrugged before walking away, leaving you with just a smile. In a world like this one, was killing people really something to be shocked about anymore? After three years without him and more than a month in this place, were your thoughts on the matter that made you cut him off really still the same?

You scoffed. Of course not.

When the airship exploded above the prison, you stayed at the entrance to wait. And when Banda finally came, he smiled more genuinely than you’d seen him in years.

“You’re bloody.”

“Nothing new.”

“… Annoyingly so.”

jealous ratio because i really like him like that, fluff, reader is a menace

“who gave you those flowers?” 

ratio’s voice is demanding and snarky, eyes ablaze with a similar kind of disgust when you walk into your home with a bouquet in your arms. putting your keys on the counter, you greet him with your usual smile and prance over to place a kiss on his scowling expression.

which softens momentarily at the feel of your lips on his skin.

“hi, veritas,” you greet.

“welcome home, love,” he murmurs in return, smiling when looking at you, but the scowl returns when he makes eye contact with the flowers. “who gave you these?”

“aventurine did.”

the world freezes over with ratio’s silent rage and you’re the only one untouched despite being the catalyst. searching for a vase nearby, you’re more than content to let his possessiveness simmer, in fact, it’s something you are used to now.

when you manage to dig up an empty vase from a cabinet nearby, ratio’s footsteps scurry towards you.

“you’re keeping them?” he asks.

“why wouldn’t i? they’re a gift.”

“a gift? 

he’s fuming, absolutely fuming now as he watches you fret over the bouquet, trimming the ends, putting water in the bot, arranging them to look nice and lovely, all whilst your lover stared at you hawkishly. you pretend not to notice the way his eye twitches occasionally, allowing him to watch you work.

his mind must be working at a million thoughts per second, so you’ll just let him be until he can talk to you again.

“why did he give you flowers? there must be an occasion that i am unaware of.”

after finishing your final touches, you turn around with all the garbage in your hands and walk past the scholar. he follows. “to say thanks. he recently consulted me for one of his projects and the results were fruitful, so he bought me a bouquet in gratitude.” 

pink roses. last time ratio read, they were supposed to symbolise gratitude, the ideal choice to send to someone who has helped you. 

“well. if that’s the case then he owes me a planet’s worth of flowers.”

“lighten up, veritas, he was just being friendly.”

“friendly?” he all but snaps. 

“yes, friendly. is there an issue with that?” 

“that gambler being friendly implies to him being up to no good.” he attaches himself to your hip, hovering over you as you make a mug of coffee. “he is a menace, an undesirable anomaly, a type one error, i advise you keep your interactions with him limited. only one of us should need to deal with his antics so i suppose i’ll have to bite the bullet on this one, darling.”

“you are so brave, my hero. are you done? anymore talk about aventurine and i might just think you’re in love with him.” ratio splutters at your wild accusations, missing the way you smile under your breath. then, you throw your arms around the scholar and he doesn’t return the embrace, still dumbfounded. “i missed you and the first thing you do when i come home is talk about another man.”

he scoffs, lifting you up onto the kitchen counter. there, he rests his hands on either sides of the counter beside you. “your mouth is twice as foul as his.”

“and yet you still love me.”

“marginally.”

“you!”

tomorrow, you return home to a luxurious bouquet of red roses sitting on the kitchen island.

i'm writing this as a pregame to the diluc fic i have in the works.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

That subtle shift in expression (widening eyes, brows lifting, slacking jaw, hands raising) when they realize they’re about to get hurt. Their muscles tense, and their posture curls away defensively, as if by looking away they could somehow shield themself.

Maybe they’re in the calm few seconds before an explosion. Maybe they’re staring down the barrel of a gun. Maybe supernatural forces are involved. Regardless, they’re about to face excrutiating pain, and they know it.

Bonus: Standing their ground anyway, to protect a loved one.

LULLABY

about a late night konbini run with nagi makes him reflect on how much he loves you

ft. nagi + f!reader

you’d done the impossible: lure nagi seishiro out of bed.

the sound of your text notifications wakes him, and he blearily reads over your requests for him to take you to the konbini down the street, dotted with doe-eyed emojis. getting up in the middle of the night was such a pain, but so was being without you. when you greet him outside with a sweet smile, wearing the hoodie he left at your house last weekend, he thinks that getting up was worth it.

the sleeves are long enough to nearly cover your fingers, cuffs rubbing against his skin as you hold his hand, swinging your arms lazily in between your two bodies. the buzz of cicadas and the scuff of his shoes against the sidewalk as he drags his feet are the only sounds until you let out a little yawn.

“are you sleepy?” he glances at you as you bump into his body, head resting against his arm.

“mhm,” you nuzzle closer into the fabric of his shirt. “you’re rubbing off on me.”

he wouldn’t mind that. he imagines what it would be like to fall asleep next to you in the familiar comfort of his room, and how your hair might look when you first wake up. would you let him kiss you awake, or would he have to brush his teeth first?

“what are you thinking about?” you look up at him, arm threading around his own.

“you.” he says, always so honest. something flutters in his stomach when you give him that smile he loves so much, leaning up to kiss his cheek. he uses the position to pull you closer to his side, letting you lead him through the sliding glass doors of the store.

nagi trails behind you as you grab a bottle of his favorite lemon tea, following you to the back of the store. he rests his chin on top of your head as you decide what you want, hands slipping into the pockets of your hoodie to hug you closer to his chest. the lights hurt his eyes, lingering sleepiness only encouraging them to fall closed.

even when you wiggle out of his grasp to go to the register, he keeps himself comfortable, hand sneaking into yours and leaning against your side. he doesn’t mind the cashier’s lingering gaze when he nuzzles into your hair, stuck to your side as you leave the store.

“wanna eat here? walking’s such a bother.” he squeezes your hand. he isn’t ready for you to leave him yet. you hum a reply, sitting down on the edge of the sidewalk.

he lets out a sigh as he sits down next to you, close enough for his thigh to brush yours. he pulls his phone out of his pocket, opening up his game as you grab half of your fruit sando from its plastic wrapper, whipped cream and strawberries between soft, squishy bread. he opens his mouth, and you hold it up for him to take a bite.

you take yours next, looking around as you chew. a stray, fuzzy dandelion catches your eye, and you pluck it from the crevices of the concrete, holding it up next to his face.

“it looks like you!” you smile, ruffling his hair.

he blinks at it from the corner of his eye, trying not to shiver when your fingers skim his cheeks as you tuck the stem behind his ear, leaning your head against his shoulder.

the soft breeze caressing his skin and your warm, comforting presence is like a personal lullaby, gently weighing down his eyes and guiding him closer to sleep.

he looks down at you and thinks he couldn’t have been met with a prettier sight. your long eyelashes flutter against your cheeks, squished cutely from where they rest against his shoulder. the light from the store’s sign glows against your skin, and he can smell your sweet shampoo from how close you are. your flyaways tickle his neck, and he itches to smooth them down with his fingers.

you’ve been in the opposite position so many times before, and he wonders if your heart beats just as fast as his is right now when he’s the one laying on you. maybe one day, he’d get to see you like this in the golden light of morning, shining through his blinds, rather than in the dim moonlight, with concrete digging into his ass uncomfortably.

he blinks when his phone vibrates; he was so distracted by you, he died. he swipes the game closed to rest his head on top of yours, intertwining his fingers with your own, pulling them onto his lap.

maybe he can convince you to spend the night with him and finally get the answers to all of his questions. 

he sighs as he thinks of how much of a pain it’s going to be to walk home, even more sleepy now than he was before. you hold up the last bite of your sandwich to his mouth, and his lips brush against your fingertips as he takes it.

he whines when your warm body leaves his side to stand up. contact with you was addicting; he couldn’t get enough, and if he could, he’d never be without it. you start to gather your wrappers, looking at him expectantly when he doesn’t move. 

“carry me?” he raises his arms to you. “it’s only fair. you made me come all the way out here.” 

“did you forget you’re 190 centimeters, sei?” you grab one of the large hands outstretched to you to pull him up, his body practically limp as you help him to his feet. as soon as he’s standing, he drapes his entire body across yours, hands cradling your waist.

“seishiro,” you whine out his full name, and he hides his face in your neck. “nagi.” he kisses below your ear, nose grazing your jaw.

“i don’t know who that is,” he mumbles, and he feels the goosebumps raise on your skin against his lips. “only know sei.”

“sei,” you reach up to rub his head. your tone drips in sugary sweetness, and he laps every word up. “please get off of me so we can walk home?”

“don’t wanna.”

you sigh, hand falling out of his hair. “fine. guess i won’t be able to sleep over then. we’ll be stuck here all night.”

you feel the drag of his eyelashes against your neck as he opens his eyes. “really?”

when he straightens his back, he’s met with your pretty smile, just for him, and he knows it’s the last thing he wants to see before he falls asleep tonight, and the first thing he wants to see when he wakes up tomorrow.

he slides his hand into yours once more, energy renewed as he pulls you toward his apartment. he slips your intertwined fingers into his pocket, warming you up as the nighttime chill covers the two of you. his eyes are lidded, limbs heavy, but he pushes forward. the walk home wouldn’t be too bothersome if he had you with him, especially if at the end, he’d be snuggled next to you in bed.

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