Wound Dressings (Yandere Idol!Xiao/Reader)
Wound Dressings (Yandere Idol!Xiao/Reader)
a/n: happy lantern rite, everyone!!! here's xiao, hope anyone that wants to pull for him gets him <3 (CW: yandere, implied ptsd, mild violence, scaramouche is fricking foul as hell.)
unreliable synopsis: As the producer of 5wirl's beloved rapper, you found yourself stuck between Xiao and the nefarious fashion stylist/designer- Scaramouche-'s wars.
Alice's note: Producer Starlight, we need to talk. Right now. The CEO is waiting.
Yandere Idol Match-Up Masterlist
------
“Xiao, your face, it's burnt–”
“Don’t.” Xiao huffed. “Don’t come any closer. I’m fine.”
Anyone can tell 5wirl's rapper has a hard time getting close to people and you find that rather tragic. It’s a shame that Xiao chose to be distant when you find his rap music enthralling like no other, and you can tell he pours his soul into each lyric he writes. He sings desperately as though it's his last strip of breath left with voice cracks so raw and heartbreaking. While Venti sounds theatrical and clear, his will always be raspy and hauntingly unique. Every project he’s involved with sheds light on his authenticity, and you yearned for an opportunity to have him talk to you just as honestly.
However, you paid more heed to his need for emotional distance, not wanting to be nosy in this instance. You concentrated on advancing his career without meddling in his personal affairs, staying strictly business. It was not your place to know more and be some uneducated therapist.
At least, you had faith that you could maintain that belief until you noticed his sloppy bandaged cheek. Xiao stumbled forward, his hair untidy. You clenched your jaw. You grasped for his arm, feeling somewhat enraged. Instead of reacting, he simply awaited your inevitable worry.
“Who did this to you, Xiao?” You whispered angrily.
“A firework accident,” Xiao grunted. “My cousin can vouch for me. Yesterday’s lantern rite. Do not worry about me.”
“Is that so…”
You can’t muster the courage to question ADDICKTZ's Mister Zhongli, and that’s precisely why you know Xiao’s hiding a secret. Lying between his molars was not something he could do without a hitch.
Especially not to someone as observant as you.
“Does this have something to do with the stylist?”
While you technically shouldn’t risk your neck for a theory…
… It's better to route the problem immediately.
Xiao shamelessly ignored your question. In any case, you already knew the answer. This was just for confirmation’s sake. He would have stayed as stoic as always had you two been in a space that was any less secluded than the backrooms. No fan was aware of how much Xiao detested 5wirl's main stylist because none of his musings were made public.
Scaramouche, “The Wanderer.”
He’s a big name with a larger-than-life ego. Giving credit where it is due, Scaramouche is a fantastic model, but a patient stylist? He was not. He has an incurable habit of pushing everyone’s buttons that it's almost impressive. You've seen the way he yanked and pulled 5wirl like ragdolls, the only exception was Kazuha and Venti, but the latter to a lesser extent.
To no one’s surprise, Xiao does not like him.
Just a week ago, you've watched him perform “Fallen Leaves” uncomfortably on a Mondstadt Television (MTV) award show. An untrained eye is unlikely to notice how little footwork he displayed considering his constricted jeans. After the song ended, Xiao irritably loosened his belt and rolled his eyes. He didn't bow like the rest of 5wirl, instead, he left immediately without a word— that was something the fans certainly did not miss. To the common stan, it was "hot", to the wiser folks, it was a sign that something was amiss.
—
“He did it on purpose. The Wanderer wanted to prove a point,” these were the only words Xiao told you with bated breaths as he wrenched the buttons off his suffocating attire, popping and dropping them to the ground. He has little consideration for who might enter his room— not when he couldn’t breathe— not when he trusts that you’ll guard the door.
Once his chest was out and he could inhale with ease, a small smile was sighted adorning his face. He favored you with a victorious grin.
“And he failed.”
You’ve known that whenever he’s down, he tends to focus more on his skills. Thus you mistakenly thought this was just a matter of work. You didn’t realize at the time that he was fighting for something else.
It was a gorgeous smile. A rare eye candy enticing enough to make you wish he considered you a companion. But the frown that followed as you heard Scaramouche screeching outside erased whatever joy you felt as you stumbled to lock the door.
You scowled.
“Did he really fail when he still has you wrapped around his fingers?”
Xiao didn't answer. Instead, he pried your hand off and unlocked the door.
“As long as it’s not you, it doesn’t matter how far he takes his tantrums.”
—
You believe otherwise.
That incident stirred a cold war between Xiao and 5wirl’s lead stylist. Scaramouche used to just pepper vulgar phrases but now it appears in every other sentence. None of the fans knew thanks to the AKASHA Device Policy System of disabling screenshots on employee devices. What happens in Teyvat Productions, stays in Teyvat Productions. Scaramouche would have been fired from the company with a hollow public apology from the CEO if they had known even a glimpse of the snark he spews at every 5wirl employee.
”Did he do this?”
You cupped his cheek. Xiao didn't wince from the pain. It's all due to his extended Military Service training, you're sure of it. Thankfully, it doesn't look too bad. Curable, most definitely, but it doesn't change the fact someone attempted to hurt your employer.
“It’s… This is my burden to carry. It has nothing to do with you—”
“But I’m here for you, Xiao. You know I have a strong sixth sense, and something is wrong. You can tell me anything.”
Xiao leaned onto your palm, putting a hand above yours. He felt his chest tighten, but his face did not mark his anguish.
He may not show it visibly, but your touch broke him. On the souls of all his friends and the lives of his family, he can swear with every fiber of his being that this is as honest as he could be.
“He doesn't understand that I lost everything.” He did not look at you, but his sudden grip begged you to stay.
“–that I felt EVERYTHING.”
You stiffened, your spine shook at how concise but oddly oppressive those words were. His words were nothing to write home about, but the way his husky voice and slight growl loomed after a moment of silence was unforgettable.
Instinctively, you knew what this was about.
Bosacius.
You didn't want to pry so you knew little about him other than he accidentally died when he and Xiao were reservists. There is a mandatory Liyue and Inazuman law that stipulates that men must serve their country for about a year or two, no idol is exempted from that. According to speculations and a few hints in the lyrics Xiao composed, the idol likely watched his friend cover up a faulty grenade to save everyone in the vicinity. You did attempt to console him once, but Xiao is adamant that such comments would be an insult to Bosacius' Heroics. He “accepted” his death long before you became his producer. His soul is likely in a better place.
See where this is headed? It's not rocket science. Put “Scaramouche” and “fireworks” together and you’d get something foul. That damn multi-talented designer did something and now Xiao’s uncharacteristically more emotive.
Scaramouche likely used fireworks to reignite Xiao’s trauma.
Perhaps this line of thinking is uncouth, but this would serve as a great opening to finally get to know the person you work for on a deeper level. But for Scaramouche to unearth those memories for the sake of arguing… What a petty man.
“He wanted to “share” something that’s mine to protect,” Xiao muttered. "He insisted that giving them up to him will be a way to absolve my sins. But… I…”
He grunted.
“I don’t want to share them.” Xiao sneered. "Having them around is the last joy I have."
You feel as though the thing or person they’re fighting over is someone related to 5wirl, but you were too tired to listen to your muted intuition.
“Who is “them”?” You asked. “Would you be willing to tell me?”
He shook his head.
“I… can’t.”
“I see, that’s okay. It takes time to open up— Xiao?”
Xiao remained silent. He quickly seized the water bottle you were holding and chugged it down. As Xiao drank, you both moved in the direction of the fans while giving him your famous mask to cover the burn. His followers don't need to be aware of this.
But damn it. You’re tired of this back-and-forth pettiness.
You’ll have to step in.
——
However, your colleagues do not favor that idea.
“Are you certain you wanna approach him?” Venti’s producer frowned. “Knowing Scaramouche’s past… instability, I’m not sure if that’s the brightest idea you’ve come up with.”
It usually takes a long time for you to naturally get close to others but after careful observation, you've deduced that none of your fellow producers were unsavory people. In truth, they were simple to read, particularly Venti and Heizou's producers. As a result, you already knew this was going to happen; you just want to let them know out of respect.
“We never know unless we try,” Heizou’s producer spoke up, somewhat optimistic but with a twinge of demur. “You’re too depressed. Who knows? Maybe you can persuade him to stop. You’re Scara’s favorite, after all.”
Favorite is a bit of a stretch, but that man does tolerate your presence.
Kazuha’s producer chortled, “that kind of hypothetical is next to impossible.”
Heizou’s producer hummed the bridge to 5wirl’s song “Sweet Dream.” You knew your coworker didn't want to prove them right, but the lyrics to that song referred to failed plans– and that's enough information for you to infer that even they think deep down that the idea was stupid.
You closed your eyes. It truly wasn't your best plan— it's straight up walking to the lion’s den, but you have to try….
“… (Y/n)? Hello?”
You blinked. Ah, you've zoned out again.
“It's better than nothing,” you said. “I can't just let everyone here be constantly berated by that narcissist.”
“Even his assistant can be a pain in the neck too, you know?” Venti’s producer chimed in. “Ya better hope you're not dealing with both of them once you get there. You might start a house fire or something.”
There's no point in this conversation. Sighing, you reached for your bag, ready to leave.
“Hmm? Now, where are you going, my ge qin'ai de?”
Baizhu— 5wirl’s creative director— stood, leaning by the door frame. Based on his lax demeanor, you assumed he had just recently taken his medicine. The rest of the producers laughed awkwardly, not knowing whether they should let him in on your plans or not. He usually accepts all forms of communion, no matter how chaotic or personal it is. But this instance urged everyone that omitting some truths was the best option.
“(Y/n)’s on their way to buy some fabric,” Venti’s producer lied. “Scaramouche had been such a pain in the neck lately so, eh, we decided to be more proactive to avoid his stupid wrath.”
“Ahhh, I see! How lovely.” Baizhu laughed, but just as you were about to walk past him, he weakly grasped your arm.
"Far be it from me to pry into my producers’ personal affairs, but once you get there,” he bent down and whispered to your ear.
“Tell that charlatan and his assistant that this will be the last time they hurt one of my kids, understood?”
As you looked up at the creative director's snake eyes, a chill went up your spine. He didn't express it as a threat; rather, he said it as a certain truth. It seemed as though Director Baizhu was determined that this was Scaramouche's final transgression. You made a mental note of that.
Director Baizhu must’ve known something that you didn't.
“Yes, Director.”
“Wonderful,” Baizhu smiled, but his gaze looked distant.
“Be sure to buy wound dressings along the way.”
——
“No way. Nu-uh.”
“Please, I seriously need to talk to him—”
“Do you wanna get stabbed? Just trust me, bro, he doesn’t want to see anyone right now. He’s too busy dressing up that haunted doll of his.” Scaramouche’s assistant trembled burlesquely, putting more pressure on the door that separates you two. “Like, he’s so unhinged right now that– high-key? Working at KFC ain't sounding so bad.”
His assistant sighed, rolling their eyes. They appeared different compared to when you last saw them. Their hair’s significantly shorter and their fingers are red from sewing– and if your eyes weren't fooling you, they're a bit burnt…?
You squinted.
“Those marks… He overworked you last night, right? Forced you to use lighters to cut threads over scissors, didn’t he?”
They glared. Struck a nerve there.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Maybe I am just reaching for straws here–” you admitted rather plainly. “But that doesn't change the fact that you don't like your boss, and I don't like him enough that I drove all the way to confront him. What say you to letting me give him a piece of my mind?”
That seemed to work. At least, for a second.
“No… No, I seriously can't.” His assistant shook their head, with more conviction this time. “I don't want a repeat of last time.”
“(Y/n), you’re here as well.”
You both turned to look behind you.
A man wearing a mask and sunglasses— clearly Xiao— stood just a breath away from touching your shoulder. You jolted.
How didn’t you notice that he was right behind you?
“Oh, he’s here too…” the assistant said. They didn’t sound particularly hostile when addressing Xiao. “Sir, you can’t just enter if it isn't urgent.”
“But it is urgent,” You lied. “Just let us in or at least have me go inside alone—”
Xiao gently squeezed your shoulder. The mulish look in his visage beckoned you that he didn't like that idea. You didn’t have time to question what he’s doing here. His opaque stubbornness made you completely forget that he was holding you longer than he usually does.
Time and time again, he’ll remind you that he didn’t want you near Scaramouche.
“Oh my God— bitch. How many times do I have to fucking— HE'S NOT ENTERTAINING GUESTS.” The assistant growled. “Please, just listen to me. I'm honestly saving you both the trouble of talking to that edgelord.”
“Please, this seriously wouldn't take long–”
“Are you deaf or just stupid? What part of not entertaining guests did you not understand?”
Speak of the devil.
The pretentious prick arrived– him and his damn ostentatiously designed hat. He shared your gaze immediately and you swore his face lit up. It was as if he was waiting for you for quite some time now, but you’re not confident in that hunch.
“Ah, it's you.”
You cleared your throat. “Good evening, sir Wanderer–”
He smirked.
“Long time no see, starlight,” Scaramouche said. “Your dog here sure kept dragging us apart from each other.”
Xiao raised an eyebrow. It was the first time he had heard someone call you by that nickname, and while it doesn’t show in his features, he was rather unnerved at how you casually let him call you by such an endearing nickname.
This only matters because Scaramouche rarely addresses anyone beneath him with respect, much less affection.
Xiao glared at him.
Scaramouche continued, “here to give me an answer?”
“No.” You didn't waste a second. “The answer is no. I don't want to be your model.”
Xiao’s eyes widened. He immediately shielded you, but Scara merely tilted his head to maintain his gaze.
“Model?” Xiao spat coldly. “So that’s the card you're playing, Kunikuzushi.”
Scaramouche’s grin widened, “move your head away, insect.”
He doesn’t deserve to see you.
Without much thought, you bit your lip. You weren’t expecting much of a reaction if you told Xiao that Scaramouche wanted to hire you before. He tried scouting you months before he started harassing Xiao. Telling him about it slipped past your mind.
Scaramouche frowned, his eyes gauging his assistant’s reaction, “still, what a shame… With your face, you would've been a fine addition to my runway, Mx. (Y/n).”
“… Huh, so you do know my name.”
“Course I do. Xiao follows anyone who says (Y/n) around like a damn shit-for-brains dog. I’m not stupid enough to miss his owner’s name.”
Xiao made a sound you couldn't quite describe. It bordered on both a whimper and a threat.
You scrunched at the title, “that’s not true.”
“Then that only speaks volumes to how good of a stalker he is,” He clapped. "Bravo, I'm impressed. For once."
Scaramouche scoffed yet there was a genuine smile on his face. Swiftly, he approached you and had his assistant not held Xiao back, the famous designer wouldn’t have had the opportunity to grab your hand and gently kiss it out of nowhere.
You felt absolutely nothing from this gesture. Instead, you unconsciously fixed your eyes on Xiao.
And he’s most certainly pissed.
“You deserve to be working for me instead, puppet,” he muttered. “Honestly, I can’t see why you’re working for him— he's barely aesthetically pleasing. A lower-rate beauty. Do you even give a damn about your skin-care routine, worm? You look like shit. Go back to the fucking military. Muscles are required there, but looks? Not expected.”
Out of the blue, the designer gently cupped your face– your faces now an inch apart as he fixes stray strands of your hair. Strangely enough, you can't feel his breath. His face may be close, but his attention did not belong to you. You can tell from a mile away you’re being used.
As to what you’re being used for? You can’t tell.
Suddenly, Scaramouche’s assistant cleared their throat.
“Hey starlight, can you come outside with me for a sec?” They said.
The assistant held up their phone. You heard Xiao shakily exhale as you pulled away from the stylist.
“Director Baizhu’s calling.”
—-
“Director? Is something the matter?”
“Ah yes, did you buy the wound dressings?”
You did your best to hide your scoff.
Seriously, right now?
“Yes, right now.”
Oh. You didn’t mean to say that out loud.
Scaramouche’s assistant— whom you were borrowing a phone from— laughed softly, bemused. They led you to The Wanderer’s garden for some “privacy”, and yet their ears seemed cleaner than most. You didn’t mind them listening to some "tea." It’s better than being alone in unfamiliar territory.
“Trust me, dear. You’ll need it later.” Baizhu’s laughter echoed.
…
“What do you mean by that, sir?”
“Answer me first, did you buy some?”
“No.”
“Poor choice. You’ll never know when there’s an emergency that calls for it.”
Your eyebrows furrowed.
Something is off.
Baizhu sighed, “nevermind. So, how was your shopping trip? What fabric have you brought, send me the hex code.”
“Sir.”
“Yes, qin'ai de?”
“You called because you wanted to distract me, didn’t you?”
…
You were hoping that you wouldn’t hear his laughter from the other line.
“Oh, Xiao. I’ve tried.”
Slowly, you hung up and lowered the phone down to your thigh.
No… It can’t be.
You started sprinting back to where you came from.
“H-Hey, wait! You still have my phone!—”
You need to go.
NOW.
You already knew what was happening, but at that moment you slipped out a prayer to any Archon that might listen.
Please… Please don’t be right…
—-
… But then again, when has your sixth sense ever failed you?
Xiao’s stony expression crumbled and his more livid countenance shone through. You were too far to cinch his right arm from throwing a punch in the designer’s direction–
But he managed to surprise you by using his left fist instead.
“You will sooner die than lay a hand on them— not even their fucking hair.”
“Y-You—!!!”
Scaramouche was already littered with bruises when you got there, his hanfu torn and his hate discarded and stomped on with abandon.
You trembled at the sight, knees nearly buckling down.
You were too late.
They both appeared unaware of your ghostly presence behind. In a single fast motion, you witnessed your beloved idol punch Scaramouche in the ribs. You winced as a crack reverberated throughout the room before Scaramouche inhaled sharply. The thing that most alarmed you, though, was the sound of Xiao's curt yet stern chuckle, which was a dead giveaway that he wasn't going to stop until the designer was rendered immobilized. Scaramouche made an effort to stand up from the ground using his fist as support, but Xiao quickly grabbed him by the collar like a mother cat would a difficult child.
“Weak,” Xiao spoke. “Why did you even dare to provoke me when you can barely defend yourself? You’re not worthy of calling (Y/n) by any other name.”
“Y-You fucking jealous dumbass. Your career is over once I’m through with you!” Scaramouche coughed up, blood spitting out from his mouth and onto Xiao’s clenched hand. “You fucking worm— I could just release the CCTV recordings and—”
“You won’t be able to retrieve any recordings,” Xiao said in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone.
He dropped Scaramouche and knelt to his level.
You wanted to scream. You wanted to beg Xiao to stop.
But you can’t recognize him, and the words died in your throat.
“You won’t find a single clip.”
Scaramouche’s face softened into a look of dismissive defeat. However, his stony yet smug expression resurfaced.
“Ah, so Tighnari’s in on this too,” Scaramouche laughed, slowly devolving into a mildly hysterical fit. “Of course, of course! You already have Baizhu’s go signal so it’s not surprising you got that genius’ approval too. Only natural that a weak person like you have so many accomplices to back up your obsession—”
“And you?”
“H-hah. And what?”
Xiao dragged him closer.
“Where are YOUR friends, Kunikuzushi?”
…
Xiao breathed in, closing his eyes.
“I am not like you. I am not an easy target simply because I often act alone.”
In a stroke of luck, Scaramouche turned his gaze away— and saw you at the door instead.
Positively mortified.
“D-Don’t—” Scaramouche coughed. “—talk big… H-Ha… Look behind you, insect.”
Once he did, Xiao stiffened.
No, no, no— why are you here?
… Why did you get back inside?
That wasn’t part of the plan— didn’t Baizhu call you?
“(Y-Y/n), I…”
You weren’t supposed to see this.
He took a step forward, you instinctively took two steps back. You cursed yourself internally for letting your fear get the best of you when you knew that despite Scaramouche’s broken nose and bloody lips, it was Xiao who needed your help the most.
His heart dropped.
“Producer, this is…”
His throat dried up.
Why is it so draining for him to open himself up to you?
“D-Did you see that, starlight?” Scaramouche droned. Even when he's losing blood, his silver tongue quips a retort.
“Did you see the monster you were working for?”
“Xiao” pivoted his heels, frowning even now as the mutilated man lost consciousness below him. You could barely recognize Scaramouche from all that blood. “Xiao” took a step closer to you. You couldn't move. Your feet were rooted to your spot.
Fortunately, he moved on auto-pilot, grabbing you by the arm and carefully swerving past Scaramouche’s assistant to head outside.
He didn’t give you a chance to ponder over Scaramouche’s words.
For a moment, neither of you said a thing as you stood at the front gate. It felt like an eternity before you mustered the courage to speak up.
“… You’re bleeding.”
Why aren't you comforting his hand? Please hold his hand gently. Please hold him.
Another voice screamed inside his head, one that sounded similar to Scaramouche.
Can't you see that expression on their face? That's fear. That's betrayal. The person you love thinks you're a monster, Xiao.
“... I bought some wound dressings. They’re inside my car.”
—
“Be sure to buy wound dressings along the way.”
—
Instead of feeling relief, you shivered at how convenient it was for him to keep some in his vehicle. Director Baizhu’s mind echoed in your head almost like an apparition.
In other words: this was premeditated.
And you don’t know what to make of that information.
“(Y/n).”
“Y-Yes?”
You zoned out that you didn’t realize you were already in front of “Xiao”’s car, still holding the assistant’s phone.
He squeezed your hand lightly.
“Don’t leave me.”
His voice cracked.
“Please.”
After a moment of brief silence, you gave him a hesitant frown.
… Your intuition tells you that no matter what you answer, the outcome won’t change.
You squeezed his hand back. If you didn’t, Archons know he would’ve fallen apart.
“I’m staying.”
In a sense, you think you finally understood Xiao better. It’s just as he said yesterday: he lost everything and he felt everything. This overprotective and downright possessive nature must’ve stemmed from what had happened when he was a reservist. He can’t bear to lose another person. While it may sound nice to know he does think of you as someone important, you wish you realized this about him sooner.
Xiao has a crush on you.
He smiled.
It was a gorgeous smile. A rare eye candy enticing enough to make you glad he considered you a companion.
… But why do you feel terrified?
“Thank you. Allow me to protect you from him— from anyone from now on. Just call out my name.”
You could only fake a laugh in response.
‘Xiao, what an awful liar you are. Lying between your molars was still not something you could do without a hitch.
So do not speak as if you haven't been doing that since the very beginning.’
ANSYTEA: Thank you for joining the 1k idol event, starlight anon!!!!
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sakura. nirei. kiryu. togame. ume. pt. 1
You ask him innocently. Of course, being the good partner that he is, he leans in to inspect. But then you meet him in the middle in for a quick peck on the lips. How would he react?
𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF, semi-suggestive stuff so proceed with caution, GN!Reader! (as always if I do miss something, please don't hesitate to let me know!), THE DARKSIDE OF THE SUN THAT IS NIREI AKIHIKO PLEASE BE WARNED, Togame is a lovesick fuck (and we love that), language (it's me), UME IS ADORABLE AJSDKJASKD SOMEONE HOLD ME THE FUCK BACK!!!!!
𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀.
"wh--!!! H-hey! You can't just do that!"
✦ your boyfriend whisper screams at you, face already red as a tomato (it never fails to amaze you how quickly he blushes so deeply), hand gripping yours softly but firmly in place just in case you might do something else. You can't help but giggle at how much he's freaking out. It's adorable.
✦ Absolutely, absolutely, at loss for words. If anything, he's just sputtering. Bicolored eyes staring at you with furrowed brows and you can just TELL he's planning about doing something in retaliation. He is. Just you wait.
✦ Gotta pray you both are in public because once he gets you alone? UH OH. He's pouncing on you, pinning you down onto the nearest surface to press a lingering kiss on your lips, tongue darting out to trace the seam of it. OOOOoOOoo You're gonna get it now.
"..you're gonna pay for that."
𝐍𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐈.
"!!!!! b-b-bunny!!"
✦ much like Sakura, your man is an absolute sputtering mess. But you can tell he's trying his damn best to keep it together. If this were any other time, he could have been prepared for this, y'know?! Please warn him next time oh my god he might end up collapsing from sheer shock.
✦ You pat his back soothingly, leaning in to press more kisses on his reddened cheeks to whisper apologies and soft giggles into his skin. You can feel him smiling. Thank goodness! He lets out a cute little satisfied sigh and you smile against his cheek, pressing even more kisses into it. little did you know....
✦ Oh but before you feel like he's gotten over it, he's gathered enough nerves to let his fingers search for yours, threading his between them, another slightly trembling hand cups your cheek and you can feel his breath fanning against your lips. Swallowing dryly, he lets out a shaky breath. His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he leans in closer, heavy lidded eyes staring you down as he blurts out,
"...can I check again just in case? Please?"
𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐔.
"you're so bad."
✦ you can hear him purring almost, skilled fingers now wrapped around your waist, caressing and kneading your flesh. Before he tries anything else, he looks into your eyes, looking for assurance that he's doing the right thing, reading into it correctly. YOUR MAN KNOWS BOUNDARIES AND YOUR LIMITS HE WON'T DO ANYTHING UNTOWARD AND UNSAVORY TOWARDS YOU UNLESS YOU ASK HIM TO OH MY FUCKING GOOASDIHASD--
✦ you kind of feel like he saw through your silly little prank though by how he let out an affectionate little huff when you asked him. Of course he knows you don't have any dirt on your face. He couldn't keep his eyes off you even if he tried to. He'd wipe the dirt away before you even felt something, really. (Plus you may or may not have forgotten he pulled this prank on you before...)
✦ But once you give him the go ahead with you leaning into his touch, he takes that as a sign. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek before taking your hand in his to press butterfly kisses onto your knuckles. Oh the jealousy the onlookers must feel right now.
"It's getting kinda late out, no? Wanna head home, love?"
𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄.
"oho? Wanna try doing that again f'me, dolly?"
✦ OF COURSE HE ASKS YOU TO DO IT AGAIN. You don't, of course. But that doesn't mean that'd wipe the smirk off of your man's lips. If anything, he's gone bolder. You've awoken the beast, baby. He's glancing at your lips then back into your eyes with those damn emerald greens of his OIUUUhhuUHGhh!!!!!!!!! He doesn't care who's looking or where you both are right now. He's way too in love with you to even give two shits about who's looking lmao what're they gonna do????? STOP HIM FROM LOVING ON HIS BABY???? FUCK OUTTA HERE.
✦ he lets out a hum, leaning into you more to tease you a little more. How dare you pull away to match his teasing just as he's inching closer to you? How dare you deny your man the pleasure of kissing you?!!!! A large hand reaches behind you, relaxing at the small of your back to secure you closer to him. You swear you hear your heart beating out of your chest. No matter how long you've been together, he never fails to fluster you. (Of course his heart is beating just as loudly, just as fast.)
✦ You (and everybody else that dare look at you both right now, to be honest) can tell how much he's absolutely, UNABASHEDLY in love with you by how he's looking at you right now (or any time for that matter). Always keeping him on his toes with your spontaneity, he decides to respond in kind. Tracing his thumb across your lower lip, he can't help but speak just loud enough for you to hear,
"Do I got any dirt on my face?"
𝐔𝐌𝐄.
"..! Honey...! Haha! C'mon. Behave yourself. lemme check."
✦ IS COMPLETELY UNAWARE THAT WAS YOUR ENTIRE SCHTICK. YOU REALLY DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING ON YOUR FACE BUT GOD DAMN IT WITH THE WAY HE'S LOOKING AT YOU IT MAKES YOU WISH YOU HAD MORE THAN JUST SMUDGE OF DIRT ON IT RIGHT NOW PLEASEPLAEPASLEPELA---(is dragged off the stage, microphone dropped on the floor, trail of tears snail behind me as I'm being dragged out)
✦ genuinely wants to help. Is kind of worried you're just sat there staring up at him with his hands cupping your cheeks to hold you still, giving your pretty features a once twice thrice over to see if you got any dirt on you. Eventually you have to confess that it was a prank :(((( he only chuckles, peppering kisses on your face until the both of you are giggling messes. His strong arms are around your waist now, holding you securely against him. The giggles die down as you look into each other's eyes. You could just melt right then and there. He'd follow suit of course.
✦ With an affectionate sigh, he traces his fingers along your cheeks, your jaw, your neck. Featherlike and gentle. He leans in to kiss you--God he never fails to make every kiss feel like the first time. Your heart is beating out of your chest as he pulls away with a smile. Chasing your lips for another chaste kiss, he chuckles,
"if you wanted a kissy kiss, you could have told me, y'know?"
a/n: NIREI DEBUT NIREI DEBBBUUUUUUTTTT!!!!!!!! I know for a fact Nirei's got a secret little ⟡𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓬𝔂⟡ side to him. I just know it. That damn notebook knows too much. He's gotta have something juicy--learned something juicy from it too. Also the fact that he's working so closely with Suo...... I...... I just know...... That they--he.. uh...... ////// (pulls the microphone cord off forcefully and walks off stage, slamming the door behind me you can hear my muffled screams through the hardwood.)
My cuties 😭♡
Requested by: @ijustloveshingekinokyojin Would you do "if they fall in love with me what they do?" Pls do Sakura and hayato suo 🙏
Hayato is slowly growing on me, he looks so majestic in the anime, don't tell Jo
What they do when they are in love - Haruka Sakura, Hayato Suou
Their behaviour couldn't be more opposite in terms of this request :P
Haruka Sakura
This awkward boy would be so scared and lost when he realized he had a crush on you.
Somehow he would start noticing you more and more and try to avoid you thinking the feeling would pass but oh how wrong he was. With time passing even if he saw you rarely, his feelings stayed with him and it came to him blushing even at the thought of you making his "friends" (classmates) and older students question if he was feeling sick.
Saying that hiding his feelings from you and other Bofurin members was hard, would be an understatement, as whenever you were mentioned his eyes would unconsciously move to the person talking trying to gather what they said.
Haruka would take note of everything you did, and even if he was trying not to be close to you, if you encountered some problem he'd be the first one to help you. Although later on, he would be saying how much of a bother it was. Nevertheless, he would do it again, if such help was needed.
He would also share anything he received from the townsfolk with you thinking you wouldn't notice he did it only with you. With that, he'd probably say things like "I don't like it so you can have it." or "I can see you staring at it, just take it."
Hayato Suou
He's the opposite of Sakura, being the more confident one in his feelings and showing it although not so openly that you could see it immediately. He'd make you work for it. It being "knowing the true nature of his feelings".
His teasing words would reach your ears more often than his friends. But when they would catch notice of it and tried to pick on you themselves he'd be glaring at them making them stop immediately. He'd get really protective of you in that sense.
It may or may not be connected to him thinking of himself as the only one who could make you annoyed because he liked that after teasing you, you only thought about him.
He would make you, with your consent, visit him during his training so you can see how cool he looks because he knows you like to watch him, he'd even try to make you join him so you can be closer and watch even more carefully.
Hayato would do a lot of things to make you understand he has feelings for you and during the process he would treat it like a game trying to see how far he could show you he cared before you noticed it.
Tags: @misticbullet
ᥫ᭡. 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫
⤷ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠.: yandere dragon!dan heng x reader
⤷ 𝐭𝐰.: yandere behavior, possessiveness, obsessiveness, isolation/imprisonment, slight blood/gore
⤷ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬.: dan heng has his draconian transformation aboard the express with you to watch over him. his desire for you had finally made him snap, and, now, there was no escape from your mate.
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊
whenever trailblazing wore you out, you could count on dan heng to make sure nothing strayed too much out of order.
his constant watchfulness over you, march, and the trailblazer was nothing if not helpful and convenient should anything ever go awry, which it has, too many times in the past, but in your downtime on the express, you just wanted to be away from his scrutinizing, assessing gaze. you also didn’t want to be a burden on anyone, another person to worry for, and the thought of spending some time by yourself, without the presence of the other crew members, drew a sigh of relief from you.
you had promised yourself moments of rest after the stellaron mission in belobog, no matter how fleeting. with kafka and the stellaron hunters getting involved and sending the express crew to the xianzhou, you wanted to savor every moment you could in solidarity before you had to aid welt, march, and the trailblazer in their mission to seal the destructive core.
what you hadn’t expected, however, were the muffled sounds of pain coming from past march’s room and straight from the archives, where dan heng’s voice had echoed out in agony.
it hadn’t been long after the express was docked, and you rushed out of your room to make sure that your companion was unharmed.
after skidding to a halt at the doorway of dan heng’s makeshift room, you hurried past the open door, where himeko was bent over dan heng’s silently whimpering form, looking concerned.
when she noticed your entrance, her eyes flitted to you and she nodded, motioning for you to come over. you obliged, suspense and adrenaline racking in your system as you hunched over dan heng.
you’d thought that your eyes had deceived you when you had run through the door, but it seemed that the flash of green was indeed an extension of dan heng.
what you had glimpsed before when you were rushing in was a tail, whose fluffy tip was now pattering against the floor in obvious distress. what you hadn’t seen before, however, were his horns.
also a green hue, they extended upwards proudly, akin to branches of coral. they still seemed to be growing, as noted by his light breaths and whimpers of pain as you thought you imagined them coming up to be a little higher every time you blinked.
immediately you took charge, knowing that he would need a more comfortable place to be situated in, and you didn’t think that intruding on himeko’s space would please her all that much.
“i’ll take him back to my room,” you informed her, not realizing that you were too shaken by this whole ordeal until you heard your voice waver.
she gave you a nod of affirmation and, before you knew it, dan heng was on the edge of your bed and you were out of breath from helping himeko carry his deadweight. you tried pushing him to the middle of the bed for maximum comfort, and to minimize the risk of him falling off, but gave up when he didn’t budge and, instead, made the bedsheet wrinkle.
sighing, you turned back to him for a moment to check that everything in your room was orderly and that the door was closed after lugging him inside, which it was, but then a sudden weight came crashing down on you and you collapsed with a choked shout of surprise.
on top of you was the body of human, yet devoid of warmth, like a reptile. the pants and low growls resonating in your ear were most definitely human—the voice of an irreplaceable person in your life.
“d-dan heng!?” you exclaimed, trying to push yourself up, already in a plank and ready shake him off and book it for the door, but his weight and power pressed you down until you were flat against the ground, panting for air.
“you’re mine,” dan heng whispered, his voice husky and low and his breath hit against your ear. your breath caught in your throat at his proximity, and your struggles renewed as you pushed your back upward to try and shove him off.
a swift, unexpected bite to your throat ceased your struggling, and you lay limp on the floor at the pain that blossomed. the weight on your back was lifted off of you for a moment, but you couldn’t escape with your senses hyper-focused on the wound on the most sensitive part of your body.
dan heng was staring intently at your back, his objective dark, and, you couldn’t see it, but you could feel the desire emanating from his possessive, lustful gaze. your skin crawled with gooseflesh, and you gulped slightly, as unnoticeably as you could manage.
he dipped downward sharply soon after though, absentmindedly lapping at the blood streaming down your neck before it could reach the ground. it was too precious to waste, you were too delectable to pass up.
dan heng had thought that his feelings would be hidden from you forever, the desire to lock you away from the universe and have you safe from harm’s way. unfortunately, the life of a trailblazer was seldom easy, and you met life’s challenges with courage, even when your qualms and fears had a grip on your heart.
he always went out of his way to make that your life wasn’t being threatened, even when it seemed impossible. he was your shield, his cold, unyielding personality your preservation.
he needed to make sure that you had placed your trust in him fully, first and foremost and no one else.
if he was immovable, then what was there to threaten you? what was there to deny him from what he had kept himself from for so long? he craved you, ached for you, longed for you, but never showed an ounce of it through his words or actions, for fear of your rejection, of society’s caution around his amplified desire for you, strong enough to harbor hatred and murderous intent for anybody who so looked at you the wrong way. looked at you at all, even.
now though, he was finally discarding those frivolous thoughts of his concealment of desire for you, his draconian side emerging. after all, it was only normal to want your lover in every way, right?
his present, human, morally ambiguous but restrained side was miles away, the tsunamis of desire crashing into oceans of want and possessiveness making him realize that he wanted this so badly that he would die if he was without you for another moment. even blinking was made scarce, absorbing your ethereal, once ephemeral, form in to fully appreciate you in ways he couldn’t before.
his stone-cold, deadpan exterior had finally given way to his true self, more open to expressing his love and devotion for you, as the dragon in him coiled with the need to make sure that you were his forever.
so why were you struggling? couldn’t you tell that you were his mate? his to love and cherish forever? even if you didn’t think you loved him now, there was no way that he’d let you go, not when the both of you were finally alone, together, and safe.
carefully, gently, absurdly for the situation he had just subjected you to, he lifted you up in a bridal carry and you couldn’t tell if you wanted to curl into his strong embrace, or shimmy away from your captor.
once he settled on your bed, he bunched the covers up around you and him until you were both insulated and he could retain the warmth that you gave him. he had made sure you were comfortable, drawing the blankets up around you first and foremost and leaning over your form quite inquisitively, drinking in the most vulnerable side of you he had never gotten to appreciate properly and feeling a strange welling of wholesomeness in his heart at your figure, dwarfed by him and his twisted love for you.
after getting settled down, you couldn’t help but close your eyes sleepily, unsure as to why you were feeling so exhausted that your body would let your guard down around the beast that had possessed your friend. you would contemplate why you were allowing him such proximity, but your mind was too scrambled to discern if he was a threat or not, and it seemed as though your body had decided for you as you were his mate.
a hand from out of the blue descended upon your head and sharp nails massaged your scalp deeply, comfortingly, lovingly. they were careful not to draw blood or scratch you too hard, and your eyelids grew heavier still, and your ears gradually rose a barrier between you and the outside world, content in the embrace of someone you knew.
the wound in your neck hadn’t bothered you for a moment now, and you had half a mind to wonder why when a low croon came from above you. it seemed as though he was still watching you, with another hand descending to rub your cheek soothingly. the solace of his presence was unbearable for your rationality, and you let go all train of thought to give into him.
dan heng watched with satisfaction as you drifted off into slumber, pride welling in his chest at the level of trust you still had for him, even after his slightly unorthodox display of dominance.
after making sure that you were truly sleeping, deep inside the crevices of your mind and dreaming of him, no doubt, he lowered himself down into a space next to you, where he was able to hold you with your back to him and his arms wrapped tightly, possessively around your waist and pulled you as close to him as he possibly could.
a few seconds later though, he opted to drag his arms up higher until he was just right below your chest so that he could make way for his tail, which dipped under you and then coiled upwards to wrap around you, doubly secure and safely tucked in by his side.
although your blood had supplemented him some energy to get by for a little after his grueling transformation into a dragon, he was more than content with the prospect of regaining his full strength by resting by your side, knowing that nothing could ever take you away from him.
and afterwards, when his power was at its full glory, he’d prove to you that you’d never need to leave his side. ever.
and even if you insisted, tried clawing your way out of his embrace, tried to escape into a world with dangers lurking around every corner, ready to take you away from him, there was no way he would ever lose you, no way you would ever lose him.
your mate.
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊
the bit you wrote about sakura and how he would stick out his hand and it being "a silent and nervous plea for you to come and hold his hand" had me AWWWWWWING.
THATS SO FREAKING CUTE I CANTTT, love how you write him :)))
original post here! sfw, 700 word count.
my beautiful nonnie you are so sweet and i love u for sending this ask so i wrote this lil blurb for you ! <3 thank you :>
"huh? sakura?"
he wishes he never chose to stick his hand out the second he turns around to meet your gaze, heart thumping wildly against his chest when he sees the way you’ve tilted your head a bit, innocent eyes staring into his as you wait for an explanation. “what are you doin-”
“f-forget it!” his words stumble out of his mouth before you finish your sentence, palms clammy as he shoves them deep inside his pockets, pace quickening as he turns and walks away.
it was unlike him to do something like that in the first place. you’ve always been the one to initiate things like this, never failing to bring a furious blush to his face with each act of affection you shower him with. he doesn’t know what came over him in that moment… or how you were even supposed to understand his silent plea in the first place, but he’s confident that he wouldn’t be able to handle the dizzying heat in his head getting any worse than it already was now.
“wait!” your voice cuts through the air, and he finds himself slowing down his pace for you before he even realizes it. with how close your footsteps sound, he knows he doesn’t have enough time to fight this persistent blush. he can feel the heat continue to spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears at the thought of you holding him—
“…you okay? sakura?”
the sound of your voice pulls him out his thoughts, and it takes him a second, a couple more blinks to realize that you’re now directly in front of him, face inches away from his to inspect his expression with a curious hum.
there’s a strangled noise of surprise from him before he’s jerking back violently, sleeve coming to hide the bottom half of his face as he gasps. when did you get so close? he pushes his nose against his forearm, seeking some sort of comfort from his makeshift shield. a part of him hopes it’s enough to mask the embarrassment written all over his face, but deep down, he knows that it’s pointless with you.
“you did that because you wanted me to hold your hand, right? sorry, i didn’t get it at first…” you continue with a giggle, and he only manages a weak nod, words stuck in his throat as he forces himself to remember to breathe.
“i—” he tries to speak, but his voice catches in his throat again. it seems to be enough of a confirmation for you though, because you stick your hand out with a cheerful smile. “it’s okay. give me your hand, sakura. let’s go.”
his breath hitches in his throat when he hesitantly takes his hands out from the bottoms of his pockets, laying it lightly on yours. the feeling of your fingers interlacing with his right after has his stomach turning inside out, and he tears his gaze from you when he catches a quick glimpse of the soft smile you’re giving him.
the walk home by your side is painful, to say the least. his mind is stuck on how nice your hands feel against his, and he’s just trying to walk straight at this point. each step is more of a challenge than the last, stiff and forced— and he thinks it’s because his mind has been consumed by the thoughts of you and the overwhelming emotions swirling inside him.
he feels so warm.
“hey, sakura…?” your voice breaks the silence, and he stiffens at the subtle change in your tone, his mind beginning to race right away. was he too harsh earlier? did he push you away? his heart sinks at the thought. he just wants to be closer to you, to be someone who can reciprocate the affection you shower him with so easily, but he struggles to let his guard down.
“..what?” he blurts out, words tinged with hesitation. his heart pounds loudly against his chest as he waits for your next words, unsure of what to expect.
“did you want a kiss too while we’re at it?” the smile he’s so familiar with returns to your face, and the world seems to stop as he processes your question.
𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌
nonnie asked: lately i noticed many writers writing about reader kissing character's face while wearing lipstick and therefore covering them in it and i found it so cute and then started to imagine your om!ocs and the modern au guys (…) being covered in lipstick kisses too […]
pairings: my genshin modern au guys (xiao :: scara :: aether :: kazuha :: heizou :: venti :: childe :: diluc :: kaeya), my obey me ocs (dantalion :: valefar :: stolas), my twst oc (cheron) x gn! reader
warnings: these lipsticks are not smudge-proof
a/n: as said i might write a full thing for one character when i have the chance but considering i have 13 characters here and i can only think of so many scenarios, i’m writing a few paragraphs each for now ^^;
original ask
modern au || dantalion || valefar || stolas || cheron
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐀𝐔
𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎 Piercer/ Tattoo Artist
It had been a busy week in which you hadn’t seen much of each other, so when you finally made it to Friday evening, you were overjoyed to see your boyfriend again. Needless to say, when the door swung shut, the first thing you did was flutter some well-earned kisses across his face, not even bothering to take your make-up off. So when Xiao spotted his reflection in the mirror, the flush on his cheeks wasn’t the only rose colour decorating his beautiful complexion. While you watched his blush darken, he couldn’t meet your eyes in the mirror and you giggled to yourself as you watched them snap to you when you pulled the neckline of his shirt out of the way and planted a final kiss on the base of his neck.
𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀 Piercer/ Tattoo Artist
It was your day off, so for once you weren’t out of the house before Scara, instead getting ready at the same time as him. You made him his usual morning coffee to go after he slept over, since he straight up refused to drink anyone else’s, and kissed him goodbye. Not long after he arrived at the piercing studio, notifications started blowing up your phone and you skimmed the furious string of texts, laughing to yourself. Apparently, Xiao hadn’t said anything about the smudge on the corner of his lips, leaving Heizou and Venti to have a field day when they came in, teasing him relentlessly even after he wiped it off. As for the accusation that you did it on purpose, who was to say…
𝐀𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 Piercer/ Tattoo Artist
“Do you still need the make up remover?” Aether asked from outside your bathroom door. You’d both just gotten back from an outing with the others from the piercing shop, staying longer than you initially intended. But that was what always happened. Venti could be very convincing and the group was too much fun to leave early. “I’m done, but I didn’t notice you wearing any makeup earlier,” you admitted, opening the door to let your boyfriend in. “Well I wasn’t,” Aether sheepishly laughed, rubbing the base of his neck. And then you saw it. Faint traces of colour decorating his temple, cheek, the corner of his mouth and even the parts of his neck and chest not covered by his shirt. A shade that very closely resembled the lipstick you applied before going out. “You might be a bit of an affectionate drunk.” “Oh my— I’m so sorry, Aether,” you apologised, quickly searching around for some cotton pads and wiping the lipstick off his chest, trying not to linger on the thought too much. “Don’t worry, I thought it was cute,” he assured you, his warm smile seemingly lighting up the room. As you leaned in to clean his face, he took the opportunity to steal a quick kiss from you as well. “You should wear it more often, it looked very pretty on you.”
𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀 Piercer/ Tattoo Artist
Kazuha had come over for lunch, as he often did, taking a break from his coworkers between the plants, sketching if the time allowed for it. When you both had to return to work, you pressed a sweet kiss against his cheek and then rushed to help a customer. And while neither one of you noticed the colour dusting his cheek, the others sure did and wasted no time pointing it out, though all their teasing comments seemed to bounce right off of him. He wiped the stain away before any customers came in, laughing off how he hadn’t noticed at all. “Of course you wouldn’t notice,” Heizou agreed, a knowing air about him. “After all, you’re way too busy making heart eyes at your florist to even think about looking anywhere else for a second.”
𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔 Piercer/ Tattoo Artist
“Hey honey, could you help me with something real quick?” You called your boyfriend over as you finished applying a new shade of lipstick you bought. As Heizou strolled up to where you were standing, you turned towards him with a smile. “What do you think? Do you like it?” “The colour looks beautiful on you,” he easily replied, sending you a flirtatious wink. “Though I’m not sure if it’s really the colour or just you being gorgeous that’s causing it. Now what did you need help with?” Wrapping one arm around his neck, you pulled him in for a kiss, making sure to firmly plant your lips against his. If your boyfriend was surprised at all, he masked it well, easily melting into the kiss. As you pulled away a little breathlessly, you grinned. “Just wanted to see if it’s really smudge-proof, though I guess it failed in that regard.” You traced a finger around the faint trace of colour on his lips as Heizou took the tube from you and applied the lipstick with pinpoint precision. Turning to you, his olive eyes were gleaming with mischief as he chuckled. “I think we should run a few more tests, just to be sure.”
𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈 Piercer/ Tattoo Artist
“This one’s for the song you wrote for me and this one’s for bringing me my favourite coffee without me asking,” you mused, studying your boyfriend’s face covered in pink-hued gloss marks. Somehow a kiss to the temple had ended with you caging Venti against the couch, fluttering a dozen kisses all over the skin you could reach. “Ehe, what can I say, I’m just the best boyfriend ever,” he giggled, tracing his fingers down the contours of your face in return. Then, something in his expression changed and you prepared yourself to shut down whatever idea he was about to propose next. “Maybe I should think about getting one of them tattooed? On my shoulder or so?” “Don’t you dare.”
𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄 Idol
Ever since you had caught a lot of heat from Childe’s manager for accidentally letting your boyfriend leave with a mark decorating his collarbones, you were very cautious of leaving any visible stains on him, even if it was just makeup. Still, you found ways to work around this little inconvenience. There was one time you signed off a little post-it note you left on the fridge for him, wishing him good luck for a performance, with a lipstick stain. After seeing his reaction of childish glee, it became a staple in your relationship. Then again, whenever Childe came home from work with his makeup still on, he never failed to press a big, fat, lip gloss stained kiss on your cheek, chuckling like the menace he is when you make a show of wiping it off.
𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂 Club Owner/ Bartender
Diluc had seen his fair share of shameless make outs during his time at the Angel’s Share and normally he just turned his head the other way, not sure why people would enjoy slobbering all over each other. Well, that was until he met you anyway. Though he’d like to think he was more composed than the intoxicated people at his club, whenever you pressed your lips against his, he thought he might get drunk off of you. He swallowed hard when you pulled away, mind still trying to process what was happening as his eyes tracked the movement of your own kiss-swollen lips, not hasty to wipe away the traces of you against his skin.
𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀 Model
Kaeya actually revelled in it whenever you leave any type of mark on him, as long as it didn’t lead to a scolding from his manager. Whether it was something more durable like a hickey or something easily wiped off like a lipstick stain, Kaeya always looked very smug about it afterwards. After all, the marks were a testimony to the events that transpired previously, and what could he say, Kaeya enjoyed those very much. Even more so considering he knew his way around a makeup bag, confidently picking out shades that looked gorgeous on you and even more gorgeous when they were smudged around the corner of your lips and over his skin. In his opinion, every photo of the aftermath was more stunning than any of his cover shoots.
𝐎𝐛𝐞𝐲 𝐌𝐞! 𝐎𝐂𝐬
𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 Majolish Owner/ Devil Style Chief Editor
You walked in on Dantalion getting ready, his attention that was previously on his reflection in the vanity mirror flickering to you when you entered. His plush lips, curled into a loving smile, are painted in a flattering shade of red and your gaze was trained on them as you came to stand in front of him. “Are you trying a new shade? It suits you well.” “I am. I’m glad you like it,” he hummed, tilting his head in contemplation. “I wonder…” Cupping your cheek in his palm, the demon leaned towards you and you instinctively closed your eyes as his soft lips pressed against yours with purpose. As always his kisses made a part of your brain short circuit and you blinked at him dazedly for a moment after you parted. There was a satisfied gleam in his bright eyes as he wiped at your bottom lip with his thumb, studying the red stain he left. “As expected, it’s an even lovelier colour on you, my flower.”
𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐀𝐑 Casino Owner
“Little lamb, come here for a second.” Valefar was no stranger to finding your lipstick smudges at the rim of his drinks or wiping smudges of colour and gloss from his cheek before leaving for the casino after you gave him a kiss goodbye. He didn’t mind, found it cute even, but as he regarded the pink stain on the collar of his white dress shirt in the lounge’s mirror, he knew it won’t come off with a quick swipe of his thumb. It wasn’t a big deal, he kept spare shirts in his office, but Val wouldn’t pass on the opportunity to fluster you. “Care to explain yourself?” You were halfway through stuttering out a sheepish apology when Valefar backed you against his desk, keeping you pinned to him with a hand on your back. Intense amber eyes keep contact with yours as he leaned down to suck a noticeable hickey on the same spot his collar would be, knowing your clothes barely wouldn’t be able to hide it. “Debts should be repaid, wouldn’t you agree?”
𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐒 Popular Streamer
It was a pleasant day in the Devildom, as pleasant as it could be in a realm without the sun anyway, pulling the two of you out into town. While strolling from apparel stores to gaming shops, you passed a café you frequented and decided to stop by for some refreshments. As you pointed around various shop displays, you had the sinking feeling that your drink emptied faster than usual. And when you spotted the colourful stain that had transferred from your straw to your boyfriend’s lips, you caught the culprit red- handed (or rather red-lipped). When confronted he merely chuckled playfully before swooping in to steal a kiss on top of your drink, staining them with more of your lipstick and thereby destroying the evidence. (His straw also became more colourful as he offered you his drink as compensation.)
𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐂
𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍 Prince of Hell
When Vil gifted you a set of lipsticks and glosses from a campaign he was part of and had no need for, you accepted them gratefully. You just finished sorting through all the shades and trying out a pretty shade of red, when there was a knock on your door and Cheron sauntered into your room. “There you are,” he grinned, charming without even having to try, before pulling you close and stealing the air from your lungs with a kiss. For someone who claimed to not be interested in ferrying more souls to hell, he sure seemed intent on trying to kill you. “What’s this you got there? Vil’s new collab?” “Right you are,” you paused, peering around him to the lipstick tube in your hand and chuckling as you read the shade name. Pressing another kiss right onto the middle of his cheek as payback for his usual schemes, you took in the red matching the colour on the corner of his lips. “Don’t you think it’s a beautiful colour, Cherry? It does match your hair and eyes. Maybe I should start calling you that.” There was a dangerous glint in his crimson eyes, clearly aware of the red staining his face, as he swiped his thumb under your bottom lip where the lipstick left a smudge as well. “You have a lot of nerve marking the Prince of Hell.” His grin showed off the points of his fangs more clearly now, clearly amused at your little stunt, taking a step forward and walking you backwards towards the edge of your bed. “That’s fine. If you can handle the consequences, that is.”
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A Linnet on a Bough [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]
Title: A Linnet on a Bough [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]
Synopsis: Isolation takes its toll, and you begin to sleepwalk out of the gilded manor Scaramouche has procured for you. Commissioned piece.
Word count: 3300ish
notes: yandere, married reader, sleepwalking, isolation, unhealthy/controlling behavior
![A Linnet On A Bough [Yandere Scaramouche X Reader]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6e86b484484eb43430e2bde94810d042/a7d6adbf5c58be7f-f3/s500x750/44e25c7cecf02965375625a7b333eb1e45811f47.jpg)
Being the spouse of a Harbringer is no simple matter, and you are no simple spouse.
If you had married someone from your village, your life would be simple. You would do what your parents had done, and their parents had done, and their parents had done. Cooking and mending and minding the children, and living out your days without ever venturing very far, except on rare occasions that would be something you would treasure forever.
You would grow old within the confines of the village and die surrounded by your children, who would bury you near your own parents and go on to live out their lives much as you had done.
But you didn’t marry someone from your village, and your life is not so simple. Instead, you were wed to Scaramouche. Sometimes it doesn’t seem real, even now, and you pinch yourself to make sure you’re not nursing some long standing fever-dream.
Who would have thought? Certainly not you. Sometimes you wonder if even he expected to ever make such a match. But he told you that he intended to marry you, and let the words hang in the air, to be caught or cut down with your decision.
You said yes. Really, you couldn’t say no… but part of you wanted it. Yes, you can admit that much. It was flattering, and isn’t it nice to be flattered? Especially when you were nobody. Just someone who trudged to the town well to fetch water for your elderly parents, someone who helped a stranger (Scaramouche, it turns out, was not the helpless waif you’d assumed) and got a husband for their troubles.
So, no, life is not simple. Both in the figurative and literal meaning of the word.
And now, wife of a Harbringer as you are, you have grown acquainted with--and acquainted is the only term for it, for you could never say you were accustomed to any of it--certain luxuries. Food, to your liking, whenever you would like it. Sometimes it is even brought to you out of season, the greatest luxury of all. Clothing made with rich materials; ribbons, jewels, the softest of slippers to adorn your feet. Servants and pampering the likes of which you had only heard about in your old life.
But there is one luxury that you are routinely denied, no matter how much you pout your lips, no matter how prettily you ask, no matter how many tears blur your vision and wet your eyelashes: the outside world.
You’re not meant to go outside, Scaramouche had told you, the first time it became clear that you were not going to waltz out of the stately manor he’d brought you to for the wedding in order to take in the scenery.
And so… you don’t go outside anymore. Not in the traditional sense. You rest in covered litters with the windows tacked shut and he’s not above smacking your hand if you try to lift up the corners to catch a glimpse of whatever (or whoever) waits outside. Of course, when he’s not accompanying you, your pitiful looks sometimes convince one of the guards to let you keep one flap untouched so that you can take a peek.
But seeing flashes of the world you used to live in are not the same as truly being within it. The ghost of a breeze against your half-hidden face is not the same as basking in the sunshine. Hearing the sounds of life from a village as you’re carried through it is not the same as stopping at a market stall to buy a treat, asking someone how their day is going, and absorbing the hustle and bustle of everyone around you.
There is no substitute for living out in the world.
You just don’t know how to convince Scaramouche of that fact.
--
There is a fine line between gratitude and ingratitude, between obedience and surliness, and Scaramouche finds that you walk it all too well.
It doesn’t matter how much he takes away; how much he removes the temptation by tacking up screens or keeping you within interior apartments, free from all the noise and sights and smells of the outside. You still want to go outside. Something about it calls to you, pulling on your sleeves, no matter what he does.
He loves to hear your voice, nightingale that you are, but sometimes he is so gravely tempted to press a finger to your lips and tell you to hush.
No matter how much he tries to occupy your mind with something different. Better. Himself, most often (for you should be grateful for that) but things that no one else could say he gave them. Gifts. Trinkets. Things that suited your interests, which he knew very well, because he hangs onto every word that comes from your mouth.
Even the ones that drive him mad.
At least until you learn to stop saying things that grate his ears and the space where his heart should be.
The pleadings that come so softly and sweetly--but if that was all, he could manage. It’s the way that you weave your thoughts into every conversation like a pattern in a tapestry--remarking on the weather conditions in regions that the two of you might be traveling in, asking if the retinue had encountered certain flora or animals during the journey. You want to know about the world; you want to be in the world.
Little things, little threads, connecting you to a world that isn’t exclusively him… why has nothing successfully cut them from your grasping fingers?
--
“They only blossom under certain conditions, you know.” Your voice is soft and lilting, carrying on the one-sided conversation over a shared table of delicate foods. You take bites in between your verbal fascination with the local flora, a subject you’re all too keen to share with him. “The flowers are said to be so lovely that people have wept at the sight of them. And the fragrance…” You sigh a little, and pick a piece of fruit to nibble on. “There’s nothing like it. Or so I’m told.”
A pause. You glance at him, eyelashes practically fluttering, then look back at your dishes.
“And… I’ve never seen one in person,” you add as you reach for another helping of fruit. “I wonder what they’re like.”
Do you think he doesn’t know what you’re trying to do? Looking at him so sweetly, asking how he finds the food, interspersing dinner with notions of flowers blooming right outside the borrowed manor the two of you have been living in for this current assignment.
But he won’t give in. He won’t be manipulated, not even by you.
Still… that doesn’t mean he can’t try to fulfill this hunger of yours. Much like filling a better, a taste should be enough to keep you from grumbling.
Within the week, he has some unlucky Fatui tasked with the mission of cutting a fresh bouquet of the very flowers that you were waxing on about so prettily. And you wake up one morning to find them on the nightstand next to your bed, set in a clear vase.
He thinks that you’ll smile, and thank him, and if all goes well, he won’t have to hear any more not-so-subtle hints about your desire to go outside.
But you don’t smile and fling yourself at his feet, thanking him for such a thoughtful, fine gift. You don’t tell him that this is all you need--the flowers he gifts you, the clothes he has painstakingly crafted to suit our form and above all, him.
Instead your hand goes to your mouth, covering the smallest of gasps.
And, well, he thinks--you’re surprised. That’s all. That’s to be expected., if anything. You did often complain about the monotony of your days, so a little surprise was bound to get a reaction from you.
But instead of breaking into a grin and thanking him, your hand reaches out to touch the delicate blossoms. Like they’re going to break. More than that--like there’s something wrong.
“How much prettier they would be in nature…” Your lips curve downward, a soft frown that feels aimed right at him. “I’m sorry that you cut them…”
“What is it?” And if there is a snap in his voice, you surely couldn’t blame him. You are so difficult to please, and hiding the fact that he wants to please you at all is a tiring chore all on its own. You exhaust him as much as you fill him.
Sometimes, you make him want to scream.
He’ll take out his pent-up irritation on someone else. Irritation that is not at you, but with you. Yet not with you as well. It’s all a jumbled mess that he doesn’t want to untangle, and he won’t. He’ll shove it down deep into some cavernous hole, perhaps the one that exists inside of him no matter how hard he tries, and move on with his day.
If only you would stop looking at those flowers like they were broken glass.
--
You’re gone. The space that you occupy (the left half of the shared bed, all wrapped in blankets and often clutching a pillow instead of him, a trait he does not find endearing but does not wish to push on) is empty, bereft of anything but cool rumpled sheets.
There’s fear, at first. Fear that something has happened. Someone has taken you. Perhaps it was Her… perhaps She, of all the unholy things, has slithered past his defenses and snatched you up just to snap another piece from his broken patchwork body.
It doesn’t have to be Her, though. He has many enemies. And enemies will target your weakest point, and you, you, you. You are exactly that to him.
So there is fear, yes, that you have been snatched away and perhaps you are already dead, and they took you not for blackmail but for some kind of revenge. To see him wither.
But then he retrieves the lantern from the dresser and lights it, the warm glow illuminating the silent, heavy room. He can feel his breath quickening, his chest tightening, and he doesn’t know why or what to do with any of it.
It only gets worse when he realizes that there is no sign of forced entry. No broken door-locks, no sprinkles of glass on the rugs, no drops of blood on the windowsill to mark where you might have been dragged through.
The fear ebbs away, replaced by a sour, sickly feeling of betrayal.
You’ve left him. After all he’s given you. All he’s done for you.
Yes, he’s taken away your freedom, but you didn’t have the capacity to understand why that was not something to begrudge him for. Freedom was not for delicate things that needed to be kept alive, protected, harbored from the rest of the world.
He clutches the lantern in one hand and storms out of the room, still wearing his night-clothes. The hallways are dim, barely light by small windows that let in a trickle of moonlight. He listens.
You couldn’t have gone far, and you’d better hope he catches you himself before morning, because if he has to engage a search party on your behalf, no one (least of all the Fatui stationed with him) will be enjoying it.
He dismisses one of the guards who spots him. He doesn’t want them involved, not yet. He pushes out one of the side doors and begins to walk the perimeter of the grounds. You might have gone off into the forest, or perhaps you went down the paved path, hoping to find a traveler who might help you.
He is about to decide which option to take when he hears something from behind him, near a half-broken brick enclosure that had seen better days. Were you hiding in there? Trying to trick him? He couldn’t put it past you.
He braces himself, feeling something thrum through him that made him want to turn away and rush forward all at once, and walks through the open gate of the enclosure.
And… you’re there.
Sitting in the midst of a garden, some untended thing that was left here by the previous tenants, before it was abandoned and absorbed into the network of buildings useful to the Fatui. And to him, for keeping you in one secure location for months on end.
It was wild and overgrown, and some of the rocks creating the garden path were moss-covered. It’s a wonder you didn’t slip on them, he thinks, and there’s a flash of fear mingled with his irritation. How could you do something as stupid as sneak outside at night, in the dark, and walk into some unknown, overgrown eyesore?
You haven’t heard his footsteps, evidently, because you go on standing. You’re swaying a little, and your hands brush the flowers. He can hear you talking to yourself, something low and sweet. He can’t see your face but it’s easy enough to imagine that you’re smiling.
“What are you doing?” There was an attempt, in his mind, to keep his voice level. But it quakes anyway, with fury and irritation and that still-sour worry that you betrayed him in the night.
He waits. You don’t turn around. He thought that, when you heard his voice, you were going to jump like a scared little animal and apologize and try to smooth things over with your teary lashes and pouting lips.
But you don’t turn around. And when you answer him, it’s not a word, really. It’s mumbling. Low. Almost a groan.
He’s had enough. He walks forward until he can grip your upper arm, and moves to turn you around. But you don’t pout or jerk away or tell him that you just wanted to go outside. You’re looking straight at him but he can tell right away that you don’t truly see him at all.
You’re… asleep.
Standing up, eyes blinking rapidly as if in the throes of some waking dream, in the middle of a garden.
But asleep, all the same.
He presses his lips together. You were a nuisance. Truly. He should leave you here, let you wake up in the morning cold and shivering and covered in slick green moss.
Instead, he lifts you up. You flail a little, arms jerking this way and that, but it’s easy enough to grip you close and carry you bridal-style back down the hallway (the Fatui stationed in the hall is wise enough to say absolutely nothing as he sees him returning) and continues until he can lay you gently down onto your side of the bed.
You gasp, then, perhaps half-waking. But it’s eased enough when your hands instinctively grab your pillow and curl up with it.
Before heading back into bed, he grabs a fire poker and slides it through the handles of your bedroom doorway. You wouldn’t be getting out, not in your sleep, anyway.
His dreams that night are fitful.
--
The first thing you realize upon awakening is that you’d really rather go back to sleep, because your dream was lovely. You were in a garden, fragrant and lovely. There was cool fresh air on your face and grass under your toes and sounds, real sounds. Birds and insects buzzing and everything that is forever kept on the other side of walls and windows now.
Over breakfast, you smile, and serve your husband his dishes before you tuck into your own. And is it wrong that you want to tell him about your dream? Is it wrong that you hope it will make him finally let you go outside, even just for a little while?
“I had a lovely dream last night,” you say, smiling with what you hope is sweetness and not desperation. “I was in a garden…”
You don’t see the goosebumps that run up his arms at your words.
--
You sleepwalk the next night. And the next. And the next. He doesn’t know how you manage to get the bar off the door every time, how you evade the guards, how you don’t wake him up… but you do.
Always going to the same place, the damned garden, with its stubborn flowers and broken paths.
Well. If one vase of flowers is not enough to keep you satisfied (and more importantly, inside) perhaps he needs to take it a few steps further.
He gifts you more flowers. Bundles of them, baskets of them, stuffed into vases and pots and cracked pans his underlings found in the kitchen storage room.
And while the rooms of the manor are soon a garden, filled with cloying blossoms and greenery that brings its fair share of insects lurking about, it doesn’t make you stop talking about the world that you’re supposedly “missing” out there.
Not just the flowers, but the animals. The people. The markets.
The life, teeming with every little thing, good and bad, that makes up this world.
Most disturbingly of all: The sleepwalking continues.
What more can he give you without giving you the freedom that would break him apart?
--
It’s not that the sound of a bird in the morning is unusual. It’s just that they are normally muffled, as there are no trees near the window of the bedroom.
But the chirping that you hear now is so close that it might as well be in your ear. Groggy, rubbing away the dust of sleep in your eyes, you sit up…
And find that there is a silver bird cage sitting on top of your dresser, next to a wilting vase of flowers from a few days before.
It’s a pretty thing. Small and yellow. A pretty thing in a pretty cage. Another gift from your husband, after the mountains of flowers, the wreaths of blooming vines, the meals, the clothes, the comfort…
--
He can never get used to waking up without you beside him. No matter how many times he easily finds you and brings you back, mumbling and bleary, there is always those terrible, agonizing moments of panic when he thinks: you’ve left him.
But you’re not alone in the garden.
You’re holding the cage, clutching it to your chest. He wonders what will happen if your sleeping muscles dream of something else; will you drop the cage and let it clatter to the ground? Will the delicate bird inside be jostled so terribly that it dies? And what would he do, then, to ensure that this doesn’t make you even less satisfied with your isolated life?
But you don’t drop it. One thing he has learned from watching you sleepwalk is that you are surprisingly nimble about it.
He watches, lips pressed into a frown, as you slowly lower the cage to one of the formerly ornate pedestal tables in the garden. It must have been pretty once. Now, it’s mossy and gray and damp.
It doesn’t surprise him, what you do next. Your fingers, shaking but surprisingly deft, undo the latch on the door and swing it open. The bird inside hops around for a few moments, tilting its head to and fro, before it launches itself into the air and flies away.
You mumble something, sweet and slurry. A farewell, perhaps. Who knows what really goes on in your pretty head when you sleep?
And it’s his cue to take you back inside. You still fight, just a little, when he picks you up. Flail your arms and legs, until he’s held you tight enough that your muscles seem to accept the hold and relax.
He looks down at your bleary, half-awake face. Your eyes tend to close when he carries you. Perhaps your body knows that it’s okay to let them rest, now that someone else is carrying you. Holding you. Protecting you.
A pity that your mind couldn’t understand that fact.
Sometimes he considers chaining you up at night. It would be the most practical solution. It might even ease his fears every time he wakes to find you gone, and he’s forced to track you down to this nighttime garden that no one else would bother entering.
But there’s something in him, hard and sick, that wonders. If he chains you up, he might just free you in his sleep, like you’ve freed the bird in the cage.
It’s easier to pretend you aren’t his prisoner when your chains are invisible, after all.
are you jealous?
synopsis: he gets jealous when he sees you with his friend
character/s: sakura, suo, kiryu
warning/s: none!
sakura:
sakura was new to emotions, that was pretty much clear to anyone who knows him or has even heard of him. but one thing he was sure of was that he’s very fond of you and he likes being around you.
when sakura asked you to be his, you were shocked but the bright blush that coated his face was pretty much an indicator that his feelings were genuine. and if people were to ask him, he thinks that he’s doing the best he can as a boyfriend.
so why the hell were you spending time with suo? there was nothing wrong with hanging out with suo, but why is it always in your free time and why wasn’t he allowed to come?
sakura shouldn’t feel jealous, you’ve never given him a reason to be, and he can’t demand that you stay away from him because suo was the one who convinced sakura to confess to you in the first place, plus you were suo’s close friend before sakura was your boyfriend.
you and suo don’t even do anything that could spark jealousy but sakura couldn’t help it, okay? he’s trying his best.
but his best wasn’t good enough for now as he sees you and suo smiling at each other while giving each other a hug.
“what the hell is going on here?” sakura couldn’t help the tone in his voice. he wasn’t mad, but his emotions were on a haywire.
“oh, haruka!” damn. don’t smile at him like that because he’d forget why he’s feeling conflicted in the first place.
“hayato and i were just—” “why were you two together and why are you sweaty? what happened?” sakura asked in an accusatory tone, you took a step back, a bit surprised at the tone that your boyfriend was using on you.
“oh? sakura-kun, are you jealous?” suo cuts you off before you could even respond with an easy smile on his face, succeeding in ticking off your boyfriend.
“you bastard, do you want to go at it?” sakura asks, raising his sleeves and cracking his neck, looking ready to beat the daylights out of his friend.
“now, now, sakura-kun, fighting in front of your lover is a big no-no.” suo clicks his tongue playfully as he shakes his head. you can see a vein pop out of your boyfriend’s forehead before he lunges. only to be stopped by you who mimicked suo’s technique.
“what the fuc—” “i asked suo to train me in self defense.” you said sheepishly, “i didn’t want to keep relying on you when i’m in danger.” you continue.
“i know you help the town enough so i didn’t want to add to that.” sakura visibly softens as your words sink in.
“i’ll leave it to the two of you.” suo smiles and nods before he walks away, leaving you and your boyfriend alone.
“i’m sorry… i should’ve said something.” you said.
sakura’s cheeks explode in a blush as he turns his head away and clicks his tongue. “no, it’s— i mean— damn it!” sakura struggled to find the words to say before he huffs, and tries to meet your eyes.
“you’re my girlfriend. of course i’m gonna wanna protect you.” now it was your turn to be flustered. “you don’t need to worry about holding your own. i’m here to protect you— and furin!” sakura adds the last bit and you couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle.
“you should’ve just told me. i would’ve trained you instead of him.”
“i’ll keep that in mind.” you say before you moved closer and pecked him on the cheek, sakura froze but relaxed after a split second as he felt your soft lips on his face.
“come on, i’ll treat you to some omurice, consider it a late lunch!” you say, pulling him towards the direction of pothos.
sakura couldn’t help but soften at your touch, his face still a bright red as he lets you lead him to the direction of the cafe.
suo:
suo was always level headed, calm, composed and sometimes a bit cheeky, and he always seemed to have a hold on his emotions. everyone and their moms knew that.
so there weren’t any alarm bells ringing when suo approached you with a smile on his face and his hands behind his back. you smiled once you saw him.
“hayato, hi!” you beamed and his smile got wider. cute. he thinks as he places a hand on your head affectionately.
“would you like to accompany me to get coffee after the day?” suo asks, you gave him an apologetic smile before you shook your head. “ah, sorry, nirei and i have plans.”
ah. yes, nirei, again.
“hayato, are you okay?” oh. suo didn’t even notice that his hand turned into a fist.
“of course i am, love.” suo says, “you’ve been hanging out a lot with nirei, is everything okay?” suo asks as calmly as possible, you nod, giving him a small smile but suo can see right through it.
“yep, peachy! i promise i’ll go on a date with you tomorrow, though.” you reassure him but suo still couldn’t help the frown that appeared on his face but nonetheless, he gives you a small nod before he lets you walk away from him.
suo sighs before he busies himself with his daily patrol.
he was halfway through patrolling when he saw you outside a cafe but you weren’t alone, nirei was beside you and he was showing you his notebook. suo couldn’t help it as his usual smile twitched in annoyance at how close you seemed to be.
so with light footsteps, he headed towards the two of you and made his presence known.
“good afternoon.” if suo wasn’t fixated on the fact that the two of you were closely huddled and reading the notebook, he would’ve let out a chuckle with how quick the two of you jumped away like startled cats.
“hayato!” “suo-san!” the two of you looked at him almost guiltily and nirei, not wanting any kind of misunderstanding, started explaining at a rapid pace.
“this isn’t what it looks like! i know it seems like we’re up to no good but i swear it isn’t! (y/n)-chan just wanted to know more about you so she asked to meet up and read through my notes but the information i have is outdated and—” “nirei.” the blonde shuts up after hearing suo cut him off.
“sakura-kun needs help with painting the walls behind washijo-san’s store.” nirei stood abruptly before he nodded and set off, not before waving at you, leaving his notebook behind.
you sat there with your eyes wide, face warm at getting caught reading info about your boyfriend.
suo only smiles as he sits in the seat nirei once occupied, “so–” “don’t even start, hayato.” you say, feeling embarrassed.
suo gives you a reassuring smile. “nothing to be embarrassed about, my love.” suo says as he takes nirei’s notebook and flips to his page, humming in acknowledgement.
“you could’ve asked me all this, you know that, right?” “you wouldn’t have answered me properly, hayato. don’t even lie.” you huff and suo let out a mirthful chuckle.
“it’s adorable to see you fall for my words, love.” suo says and you couldn’t help but smack his arm, your face warming up at his teasing.
“how about this,” suo compromises, “you can ask anything and i’ll answer.” he smiled at the way your head perked up and nodded at his statement.
“ask away, my love.”
suo still didn’t answer your questions seriously.
kiryu :
“kiryu, you said we’d do something today!” you whine as you sat on his bed, kiryu only hums as his thumbs press on the screen of his phone. “later, baby. i need to beat the boss, this level is so annoying.” kiryu whines back, adjusting his position on the bed.
you huff, knowing that kiryu wouldn’t be paying attention to you in the next half hour because he was too locked in his game.
you clicked your tongue, pulling up your phone to see your messages only to end up scrolling through your social media feed out of boredom.
your head perks up once you hear the doorbell to kiryu’s house ring, kiryu hums, not taking his eyes off the phone, “(y/n)-chan can you go get that for me, please?” he pouts and you oblige, finding his expression to be adorable.
you weren’t expecting taiga to be the one behind the door and it seemed like he wasn’t expecting you to be here either.
“oh, (y/n), hello! how are ya?” you parrot back the pleasantries, letting him inside and that was when you noticed that he brought his dumbbells to kiryu’s house.
“what ‘chu got there?” you couldn’t help but be curious, taiga looks at where your eyes were and lets out a chuckle, flexing his arms.
“i asked kiryu if i could come over and have him help with my workout and he said yes.” that did not sound like kiryu.
“oh, i didn’t know you two had plans.” “it’s fine (y/n), it was sudden and kiryu agreed for me to come by after classes so here i am!”
“was kiryu playing with his phone when he agreed?” taiga looked confused. “i didn’t notice but now that ‘ya mentioned it, i think he was.” you nod. biting back a sigh.
kiryu probably had no idea that taiga was here.
“i’ll go get kiryu for you.” “thanks, (y/n)! ‘ppreciate it!” you trudge to kiryu’s room and see that he hasn’t moved from his spot.
“did you know you invited taiga here?” kiryu’s eyebrows furrowed at your statement. “eh? tsuge-chan’s here? why?”
“he said you were gonna help him with his workout.” kiryu pauses his game and you almost wanted to throw his phone across the room because it could’ve been paused??
“eh, that sounds so much like a hassle.” kiryu pouts, “and i’m so close to beating this game, can’t he come back tomorrow?”
“no, baby, he’s already here and that would be rude.” kiryu huffs before he smiles at you like he has a brilliant idea.
“can you help tsuge-chan out for m–“ “no.” “please, (y/n)-chan. i promise i’ll buy you something you really like!” it took a few more convincing from the pink haired male before you finally relented.
“fine.” kiryu grins at your surrender. “thank you baby, i love chu!” he says out cutely and you almost want to smack him with a pillow.
you go back to where taiga was expecting kiryu before you give him an apologetic look. “ah, sorry! kiryu is currently busy but i can help you out if you’d like?” taiga looks unsure at first.
“are ya sure, (y/n)? i don’t wanna push you or anythin’” you force a nod, “yeah, i’m sure.”
—
when kiryu finishes the game, he isn't even aware that a lot of time has passed. he turns off his phone, raising his arms and moaning out as he stretches the kinks that accumulated from his unmoving position.
he realizes that taiga must’ve been still in the house as he hears laughter from the living room. he trudges over to where he hears the source of the sound and the doorframe almost broke with the force he exerted as he watches the scene before him.
you, his lovely girlfriend, was in taiga’s arm as he squats.
“you’re so strong, taiga! i didn’t know you could do this.” kiryu’s brow twitched with annoyance.
“‘yer not even heavy, (y/n), don’t worry about it!” taiga says as he squats you again and again.
“what’s going on here?” kiryu asks, as clipped smile on his face as taiga sets you down
“ah, kiryu! thanks for lending (y/n) to help out!” kiryu only hums as a response.
“tsuge-chan, isn't it getting late?” kiryu asks and taiga’s eyes flit towards the wall clock before he gasps out loud.
“i have to make my pre-dinner protein shake, i forgot! ‘yer such a lifesaver, kiryu!” taiga quickly says his goodbye and runs out the door, his dumbbells doing nothing to hinder his pace.
you turn back at him, who was now glaring at the door before his green eyes turn to look at you.
“really?” you asked, arms crossing against your chest. kiryu steps closer to you and his nose scrunches. you smelled too much like taiga, how long was he squatting you.
“tsuge-chan was being too comfy with you.”
“well, he was being respectful the entire time so there was no problem.” you clarified and kiryu only pouts.
“plus,” you continued. “i wanted to see if taiga was really strong and the rumors are true!” you gush and kiryu feels his brow twitch with jealousy.
“he carried me like it was nothing!” the next thing you knew, your usually gentle and graceful boyfriend lifted you into his arms as if you weighed nothing and squatted you thrice.
“if you wanted to be carried, you should’ve just told me, (y/n)-chan!” kiryu smiles and pecks your cheek. “no need to praise tsuge-chan like that.”
“mitsuki, are you jealous?” “you’re being ridiculous, (y/n)-chan”
he definitely was.
note/s: i have no idea why kiryu's was so long... i blacked out and it just happened..
fallen | ft. first year trio
synopsis. when they realize that they've fallen for you
tags. fluff , sakura / suo / nirei x gn!reader (separate)
— sakura realizes that he has fallen for you when he starts to think about you more often than usual, it was only a little at first, like your smiles and laughs but now full-on pictures/scenes pop up on his mind when thinking of you. for instance, he was going to bed but when he closes his eyes, the scene of you tending to his little cuts and bruises after a fight, suddenly appear on his mind. not only that, whenever your around his heartbeat races and his cheeks warm up, he also feels like he needs to run away — away from you.
he told his friends about this and they kept teasing him that he's really fallen head over heels for you, he denied these allegations but it definitely bothered him the whole day.
has he really for you? are you really the cause of these weird things he's feeling right now? while he was too focused thinking about these, you call to him by his first name “haruka!” making him almost jump out from his chair. his name has never sounded that good coming from someone, you sounded so happy when you said it too. he's flustered about this but gives you permission to keep calling by his first name, only you. your giggling with happiness as he said that, making him think that he really has fallen head over heels for you.
— suo has always been a on guard but he finds himself uncharacteristically letting his guard down around you. he was worried that he was getting too soft, or maybe it was because you're comfortable around, or that he's catching feelings for you? he's not sure. but these questions were answered when you both find each other at opposite sides of the pedestrian lane, the light was still green so you two just look at each other. you waved your arms while yelling his name, “suoo !!! ”, you had the biggest smile on your face and suo thinks that you're the most beautiful person in the world. he waves back with a soft smile on his face, ignoring the slight blush that forms on his cheeks. the idea of falling for you doesn't seem too bad.
— nirei realizes that he have fallen for you when you manage to remember everything he says, even the tiniest detail. it may look insignificant to others but it means a lot to nirei, he's always talking and most of the time — people tend to forget the things he says. but you on the other hand, remember everything about him, which can only mean that you pay attention and listen attentively to him.
you were chatting with nirei at the pothos café when you mentioned that you wanted to go thrifting at this store nirei mentioned, he was surprised that you remembered that because he only mentioned this once — and it was three months ago too. at this moment, nirei realizes that he has fallen for you. he gets excited about the idea of a thrift date so he happily accepts your offer to have him by your side.
n. got inspired while listening to 'fallen' by lola amour !! (*ˊᗜˋ*) i love the song, especially the cozy cove version !!! <3 had a tough time writing for suo bcus i don't really get him :( hope it's still enjoyable tho!
t. does this count bcus haruka's here, @kyoghurts?（´∇｀''）
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