“oikawa tooru, you are the worst,” you said as you walked past him and stood at the bridge. you plopped your hands against the railing and stared at the night sky.
“a while back, you said that we are pretty much the same,” he said with a ghostly smile plastered on his lips. “that means you are equally worse.”
you ignored him as you avoided eye contact. “if i am the worst, you would not have agreed to go out and have dinner with me. or even drink with me.” you sighed at the way your mind is racing on the thoughts and emotions you have of him.
you felt his presence beside you, and you turned to see him leaning against the railing mimicking your actions. you stayed silent not knowing what to do or say, but you know that this is what you have always imagined and wanted. he also stayed quiet for a few minutes, feeling the cool breeze of the city.
“i am going to be worse tonight,” he suddenly interjected, and you were confused. he leaned closer and you slowly leaned back, heart beating faster than ever. “i have to be honest with you.”
taking a deep breath, you gained back your composure. “okay, go ahead.”
“okay,” he sighed as he also took a deep breath. “i like you. i actually do. i’m so glad that we met and talked, because ever since then i have never stopped thinking about you.”
you stared at him at his confession, blaming the alcohol for making or cheeks brighter than ever. thank goodness this was at night with only a dim streetlamp illuminating the two of you.
“why did you wait until we were drinking for you to say this?” you questioned, heart still racing. “you could have said it to me when we were sober.” so that we can make sure that you actually have feelings for me too.
he let out a laugh as he turned his head to look at the sky. “i used to be so confident in things like this, but again, knowing how similar we are i don’t know what would have happened.”
turning his head back at you, he showed a genuine smile accompanied by the flush on his cheeks. “say, if we were to hang out with no alcohol next time, will you go?”
“yes, you can repeat that dialogue when you’re sober too.” you said with a laugh, smiling at how lucky you are to find someone who would understand you.
“ew, sober me would never let me get my guard down.” he said, laughing as he looked at you. “but yes, i’ll repeat whatever i said better when i’m sober.”
please some reader confessing to Gumshoe, maybe they've been hinting at their feelings and he just doesn't get the hints, or doesn't think that they'd like him so the reader has to tell him directly?
Steeling yourself with determination, you give yourself a self-affirming nod and ball your hands into fists. Enough hinting and subtle flirting! You’re going to tell him your feelings in a way that he has no choice but to understand today. You just have to trust that this won’t ruin your friendship if he doesn’t feel the same, the two of you are too close for that.
You’ve got this!
At least, you feel that way until Dick comes jogging up to the bench you’re sitting at, right on time. Although given how flushed he looks, you suspect he ran all the way from the parking lot to your usual meeting spot that day.
It makes your heart flutter in your chest and the reminder of the intensity of your feelings for him makes your nerves falter.
He sits down beside you, placing his hands on his knees. “So, what did you want to talk about, pal?”
“I, um, have something to tell you,” you say, only to realize how charged that phrase can be. “B-But it’s nothing bad or anything!”
His shoulders relax at that and he gives you a soft smile. “All right then, pal. I’m all ears!”
(Well, here goes nothing…!)
“I… like you. A lot.”
Dick purses his lips, eyes darting around as if he’s trying to solve an especially difficult math problem. “I like you a lot, too?”
“…N-No, I mean, I really care about you.”
“Yeah, and I really care about you too, pal.”
Your eyes slide shut and you take a deep breath in, trying to calm yourself from just how terrible you were at this whole ‘direct’ thing. When you open them again, you give him your best smile, although you feel as if
“No, Dick, I mean that I like you as something other than a friend.” You see that he’s still looking confused, or maybe it’s disbelieving? Either way, it’s not helping your nerves and you look down at your lap. “I-I like you, romantically. And I’d, um, like to date you? If you feel the same?”
The wind gently rustles the leaves in the nearby tree as the silence stretches between the two of you. It isn’t until you hear a light sniffling mingling with the sounds of the park that you look over to him. He’s wiping away the tears with the back of his arm and the sight of him crying.
You rest a hand on his knee, giving it what you hope is a comforting squeeze. “Dick? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I-I’d like that a lot, pal. Because I like you that way, too. I just didn’t”—he winces as he rubs the back of his neck, dropping his gaze away from you as he starts to mumble—”I didn’t think that you’d… with… me being me and all.”
You’re quick to pull him into a bear hug, simultaneously relieved at his reciprocation but also heartbroken over the fact that he thinks so little of himself.
“Of course I do! You’re the best person I know. I always have so much fun with you, nobody makes me laugh like you can. You’re smart, you always beat me at chess and impress me with your tinkering ability. You’re hard working and caring and just… I appreciate you so much.” Your cheeks flush a bit as you pull away and avert your gaze to a nearby lamppost as you force yourself to be even more direct. “And besides, I-I, um, find you very attractive…?”
He just stares at you in disbelief, you can feel those adorable eyes of his focused on you. The cool breeze feels pleasant on your flushed skin. You’re about to turn back to him to see how he’s handling your deluge of earnest compliments, when he hops onto his feet. You snap your face up to look at him and while his eyes may be just a bit watery, there’s a broad, genuine grin on his face.
“Thank you…” The words are so soft that they knock your breath right out of your lungs. However, his usual exuberance quickly returns as he offers his hand to you. “But come on! Let’s go to that nicer noodle shop for our date. On me, too, pal! Been saving up to treat you and this seems like the right time.”
You stare up at him, blinking a few times as you process his request… and the fact that he’d been setting aside money from his paychecks to feed you instead of the other way around. But the more pressing issue’s the whole ‘date tonight’ bit.
“Wait. R-Right now!?”
“Sure thing!” He pauses and that familiar hesitant expression crosses his face as he scratches his cheek. “U-Unless you have something else to do tonight, of course.”
Letting out a laugh, you place your hand in his. “There’s nothing else I’d rather do tonight.”
He beams down at you as he helps you off the bench and the two of you walk hand-in-hand back down to his jalopy. You can’t wipe the smile off your face as you intertwine your fingers with his, glad to finally be close with him in the way you wanted.
Can I get a Confession scenario with Miles Edgeworth?
…there are so many possibilities with him, pal. Too many. I did a fairly neutral and introspective one this time, but if you want one with an angst flavor or a super fluffy one, I can do those, too!This is over 1k words and thus qualifies as a one-shot by this blog’s standards, hope y’all enjoy it! ^^
Miles Edgeworth throws the Persian cyclamens and roses (he hates that he knows that much) perched in the vase a withering glare as rain streaks down the window behind it. How does it come so easily to others? To express their emotions so openly and to be comfortable with it—to be vulnerable. It’s still so foreign to him.
Unnecessary obstacles, the antithesis of logic… that’s all emotions seemed to be to him for so long. Utterly worthless.
Worthless.
The echoed memories taste acrid on his tongue as he cringes, but that’s the past. Albeit a not-so-distant past that you’d been privy to catching the end of, one that he’s not entirely proud of. Back then, he’d viewed these feelings he harbors toward you as a most unwanted distraction, the thought disturbs him but it’s not surprising.
He never thought he’d have a genuine interest in dating and it’d taken him some time to come to terms with the fact that he did, indeed,. Yet it’s still hard for him to conceptualize that someone would want to be with him romantically, especially someone who’d witnessed the man he once was. Especially you.
In his desperation, he’d recently talked at length with the detective about it. Perhaps he should follow Gumshoe’s advice for once, he admittedly knows more about this subject matter… although his success rate isn’t entirely courage-inspiring.
Still, the thought of making such a confession sends an unsettling shiver down his spine. What if you don’t feel the same? Would he ruin your friendship? He doesn’t have many friends and your feelings are of great import to him, the last thing he wants to do was chase you away finally. It’s an unbearable thought. Yet he cannot deny his affections, nor is it fair of him to keep the truth of his feelings for you a secret.
With a sigh, he gets up and makes himself some tea, switching his train of thought. It’s a rare slow day for him, allowing for spending too much time with his thoughts like this.
He settles back down at his desk with his tea and thoughts, returning to thinking about the particulars of how he should go about telling you for the umpteenth time. He finishes his cup when there’s a knock on his office door and, sure enough, it’s you who enters a moment later. Of course. That’s always his luck, isn’t it? But he supposes that now is as good as a time as any, perfection is unattainable and… he’s been thinking over this for long enough.
“Ah, excellent timing… there’s actually something with which I’d like to discuss with you. Posthaste, if possible.”
You quirk a brow at him in curiosity as you cross the room to stand in front of his desk, glad that you were just there to stop by and say ‘hi’ after a busy day. “Oh? As Prosecutor Edgeworth… or as Miles?”
“…As friends.”
You cross your arms over your chest at the last word, he notices but is unsure of what to make of it. “All right then, Miles, it is. What’s on your mind?”
He mirrors your body language, finger tapping away at the crook of his elbow as he thinks, brow furrowing more than usual. The quiet thrumming of rain on the glass is soothing, but he can hardly hear it over the thumping of his heart in his ears.
“… I have a confession I’d like to make.”
“A confession, hm?” He hears the curious lilt in your tone, but keeps his eyes shut. It’s easier that way.
“Indeed,” he says with a nod, lip pressing into a firm line as he tries to think, channeling his air of courtroom confidence. “You and I… we’ve become quite close over the years. I know I may not say it enough, but… I do consider you to be a dear friend. Which—”
He makes the mistake of cracking open his eyes to look at you. You’re staring at him, confusion written clear as day on your face, waiting for whatever. He’d like to know, too.
“Ngh… which means… that my feelings on this issue are unnecessarily complicated.” It takes everything in him to not look away from you, this is much harder than he thought it would be. The room feels inordinately hot, but perhaps that’s just his face. “Ergo, why I’ve taken so long in deliberating whether or not I should disclose this, but I’ve decided that the truth is too important to remain quiet about.”
You’re listening patiently and hanging onto his every word, looking as on edge as he feels. He’s not sure whether or not that’s a good or a bad sign quite yet and he instead focuses his attention next on keeping his voice even as he presses onward.
“I’m… very fond of you. Perhaps, one might even say that I fancy you. However, I completely understand if you do not reciprocate these feelings and would prefer to be friends. I have no intention of bringing this subject up again in the future if my feelings are unreciprocated, I respect you and our friendship too much for that. Still, if by some chance you do feel the same, I’d be delighted to take you to my favorite French restaurant for dinner this Saturday.”
He forces himself to quit since he’s gotten his message across, knowing that he’s rambling more than absolutely necessary. However, he doesn’t want to take any chances of a misunderstanding building up between the two of you, you’re too important to him for that.
His eyes flicker between yours as he anxiously awaits your response, hands clasped together on his desk to keep them from visibly trembling. Miles knows that his face is likely looking more like the color of his suit than he’d care to admit, but… you’ll be the judge of whether or not his confession his permissible.
It’s not romantic, but neither is he. Yet you fell for him, regardless. And it’s just… so Miles. You have to bring a hand up to prevent yourself from letting out a laugh, you’d been flirting with him (really, ‘at him’) for longer than you’d care to admit… but evidently it hadn’t been enough to get through that thick skull of his. As such, his confession comes as a surprise, but a most welcome one. It just takes you a few moments to gather your wits enough to find your tongue.
“O-Of course I’d be delighted, because I fancy you, too! Have for some time now, actually.” Your genuine smile grows into one of teasing mischief. “But we can always have a night in and watch some Steel Samurai instead, if you’d prefer?”
His cheeks manage to grow even hotter as he looks away, finger going wild as he takes the bait, as he usually does. “No!” It’s a bit too forceful and he clears his throat as he leans back in his chair and forces himself to look back to you. “N-No, I must insist on a proper dinner out.”
You laugh, freely in your delight, as you only nod in confirmation to his request. It’s a sound that gives him pause as he stares up at you in awe, dedicating it to memory. With anyone else he would’ve been at least mildly agitated, but with you…?
He’s happy; relieved, even, and he can’t wipe the genuine smile that breaks out across his face. Just thankful that he’s become a man worthy of your affections on this path he’s forged for himself… and now, hopefully, he’d have you by his side.
He makes a mental note to thank Detective Gumshoe later, but for now he has a date to plan together with you.
May I have a Simon Blackquill declaring to a fem!Detective while they were eorking toghether on a case? Thank you very much ❤️❤️❤️ I love your blog!!
Hell yea you can, pal! Thank you!!! Did something a bit different for this one. :-)feat. Detective!Reader and Pre UR-1!Simon. Still playing around with that characterization for him, so I wanted some practice!
You nudged the door to his office open, stepping inside with your armful of goodies, a cup of coffee for him (with just a dash of cream and sugar) and a cup with your beverage of choice as well, along with some doughnuts that you think he might like.
Still, you were just thankful to be out of the storm that was raging outside. If you hadn’t been planning on pulling a long night (and spending it with him) perhaps you wouldn’t have bothered.
Simon was bent over his desk, rubbing his chin as he seemed to be having a stare down of sorts with the crime scene photos. There was still something critical missing from your case and he suspected it had something to do with the unusual blood splatters. You had everything, of course, but it was just a matter of connecting the dots at that point.
“You know, glaring at the crime scene photos isn’t going to scare any new information out of them…”
“Hmph. It can’t hurt to try, but good evening to you, too,” he said, not even bothering to look up at you. A rarity for him, he must’ve been seriously engrossed.
You rolled your eyes and set the coffee cup down beside him before you took your seat at the opposite side of his desk and placed the doughnuts squarely between the two of you. He broke his focus to pick up the cup and spare a glance at the doughnuts. Success!
“Ah, thank you.” He gave you a small polite nod before he took a sip, a ghost of a smile formed on his lips as he finally looked toward you. “Hmph, it seems as if you know me too well.”
You flashed him a cheeky smile, unable to resist the opportunity to flirt. “Oh? I’d say that I don’t know you well enough, Prosecutor Blackquill. I just have your order down pat by now… but I’d certainly like to get to know you better.”
Knowing his order came with the territory of being his usual detective partner, of course. You were almost always assigned to his cases nowadays after he’d requested you enough.
Thunder echoed in the distance, boisterous and unrestrained, in direct contrast with the look of delicate regard that he gave you. You’d noticed him give you that look on a semi-regular basis lately, as if there was something weighing heavily on his mind.
“Is that so?” A subtle smirk broke out across his usually reserved countenance. “Well, once this case is closed, perhaps you and could perhaps… go out to get some dinner at the Whet Soba?”
You blinked a few times, not entirely comprehending what he just asked you.
“…As a date,” he clarified, eyes not quite meeting yours. “In case I haven’t made it obvious, I... fancy you.”
“W-Wait, what…! Really?!” you asked, face flushing with warmth as you sat up straighter in your seat… maybe a bit too enthusiastic, judging by the grin you felt spread across your lips.
“Heh, I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t mean it, Detective.”
“Then, yes! I’d love to, because... I like you, too.” A pause before you moved to roll up your sleeves, ready to get to work to make that date come all the sooner. “Let’s get right to it!”
“…You know that this bloody case is going to be closed after the trial, right?” His eyes were crinkled as he spoke, amused by your sudden fervor.
You pouted a bit at the reminder and slumped back in your chair, rubbing the back of your neck apprehensively. “Oh, yeah, of course… but still!”
Simon let out a light rumble of a chuckle before he handed you the case file. “Well, with that attitude… how about you start by reviewing the autopsy report as I continue to analyze these photos.”
“Back to business already, eh?” With a disappointed sigh you took it from him and got back to work as the storm continued to rage outside. Yet you couldn’t quite wipe the smile off your face as you did so… and neither could he.
Definitely the most best coffee and doughnuts you’d ever bought in your life, that’s for sure.
hi im Soft and i need a Good Ending after that pure angst nahyuta request from a while back,,, PLEASE can i get a followup to that pls?? hopefully where nahyuta apologizes for acting the way he did, bc he had to? because he cares????? becaUSE HE LOVES THEM????????? ok u take it wherever u want but i NEED a conclusion to that one, thanks, love u -❤
love u too, pal, i tried to spoil you with this just a little so I hope you enjoy it!!! ❤Continuation of this scenario! feat. Defiant Dragon!Reader. SoJ Spoilers!
The air that passes into his lungs feel crisper as he walks through the verdant palace gardens to clear his mind. His steps feeling simultaneously lighter and heavier than they had in years now that everything has been laid bare, he instinctively flexes his right hand.
His heart mourns the loss of his father, of course, but it’s the yoke of guilt that still presses down heavily on his shoulders. Because he knows his father wants him to be happy and he’d be delighted that he’s free once more, able to finally be with his mother, sister, and adoptive brother.
But not you, at least… not yet.
He cannot stop replaying the sound you made when the guns of Ga’ran’s henchmen had been pointed at him. He hadn’t dared turn around, not willing to risk exposing your connection and put you in danger by exposing your identity. He’d taken great care up until that point to ignore you, immediately having recognized your disguise. How could he forget after you’d confessed your feelings to him a year ago in the very same one?
Ah, those feelings. The very same that weigh upon him to this very day, because he still carries his for you. He knows that he must reveal the truth to you, finally. You deserve as much, along with a heartfelt apology. Even if you no longer feel the same… as he’d tried so hard to insure.
Yet he can’t help but wonder if he’d failed on that count, daring to hope like some feeble-minded fool that you could return his feelings still—after all the years the two of you have shared together.
Nahyuta stops to admire an elegant red butterfly and offer a hand out to it. It flitters onto his finger when he hears familiar footsteps tread on the stone behind him.
It seems like the reveal will happen sooner than he’d anticipated.
“Still sneaking into the palace, I see.” He glances over his shoulder toward you, unable to prevent the fondness that seeps into his voice.
He’s quick to notice that your stance is guarded, perhaps a touch bit nervous? Your eyes don’t quite meet his and while there’s a smile on your face, he knows you too well to not pick up on the pained look in your eyes. This is clearly hard for you and he knows all too well why.
“Yes, well… you haven’t exactly made it easy to congratulate you. This is the first time you’ve been alone all day.”
“Congratulate me?” He quirks a brow with an otherwise neutral expression, politely choosing to not inquire over the fact that you’ve seemingly been stalking him. He’s not as surprised by that as he probably should be.
“On your freedom. I…I knew that you wouldn’t betray Dhurke like that.”
Your words hang in the breeze for a few moments and he only blinks at you, long eyelashes fluttering from surprise. As the two of you stare at one another, he notices a blush spread across your cheeks… likely mirroring his own if the warmth blooming across his own face is any indication.
“You still think so highly of me,” he says, more to himself than to you as he looks back down at the butterfly perched on his finger in contemplation. It chooses then to take flight… and seemingly you get the same idea.
However, Nahyuta’s reflexes are faster and he’s able to catch your wrist as he calls out your name. You go rigid under his touch, but don’t pull away (much to his relief).
“Wait, please. I… there is something most important that I must tell you before you leave,” he says, voice more desperate than he’d like.
After a moment of hesitation, you turn around to face him properly again, eyes still not directly meeting his face.
That will not do.
There’s a slight tremble to his hand as he brings a hand up to tilt your chin towards him, making you look at him properly for the first time since that awful conversation. The look in his eyes steels into pure determination, looking remarkably similar to his father.
“Thank you, because I do believe that I have inflicted enough suffering upon you for this lifetime.“ He allows his hand to slide up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your cheek. You flush further under his touch and your gaze flits away with his own, encouraging him further. You don’t see how his eyes soften with sorrow at the recollection of what he’d done, of the barbed lies he’d thrown at you…
“Back in the palace on that fateful day, I committed a series of deplorable sins in the hopes that I would protect you… and that, perhaps, you would be able to forgive me for them someday.”
He does not elaborate, allowing for you to compose yourself enough to ask the question for yourself. When you look at him, the despair he’d sensed earlier is replaced by a newly rekindled hope, a sight that warms his heart like nothing else.
“…a-and what would those be?”
“I spewed many lies… with the most grievous being that I did not love you, because I did. More than anything.” He draws his face closer to yours, allowing you for ample opportunity to pull away. You don’t.
“And I still do.”
You answer him by closing the distance yourself before him, capturing his lips with your own as you throw your arms around his neck. He smiles into the eagerly returned kiss, uncertain if the warm tears trailing down his face belong to you or himself. Perhaps both.
Right as he begins to lose himself in the kiss that he’d been dreaming of for so long, there comes a strange fluttering sensation. The two of you break off the kiss, distracted, only to watch the kaleidoscope of red butterflies pass by, flying around you as they carry on.
One familiar butterfly lingers, circling around the two of you once before flittering after the others on its fragile wings. He stares after it for a few moments, touched by the meaning.
When he turns back to you, he’s quick to capture your lips this time, more passionately than before as he kisses you with the sacred butterfly’s blessing.
Ooo a new AA blog :O hypee!! How about a confession scenario from apollo?
!!! Absolutely can do, pal! Hope you enjoy it, thank you for the wholesome Apollo request. He’s one of my favs and this premise was too good so I got a bit carried away. 😔
Today's the day—the day Apollo's finally going to confess his feelings for you! They say that the third time was the charm, so he has high hopes for this attempt. Both of the times before he just could not get the words out, but Clay gave him a sorely needed pep talk and advice to just tell you about his feelings directly.
(I’m fine! I can do this...!)
However, the moment you enter the Wright Anything Agency’s office, his tongue turns to lead in his mouth and he can feel the sweat beginning to form along his brow. Yet he gets up off the couch and sets down the law book he’d been trying (and failing) to read for the past half hour since you’d agreed to come over to talk.
(N-No, you’re fine! You’ve got this! You can do this!)
You give him a quick once over, frowning slightly at how tense he’s looking. “So, what did you want to talk about, Apollo? Is it something serious...?"
His throat tightens at how concerned you look and he quickly brings a hand up to rub his head, smoothing down the prongs of hair as his cheeks flush pink. “N-No, well, um... I mean—yes... it is, I guess?”
His voice is raspier than usual from his Chords of Steel training he’d done that morning in preparation, practicing his confession for you. Something that only makes you feel even more concerned.
“You guess?” Your frown only deepens with your combined concern and confusion as you take a step closer. “If something’s wrong, we can definitely about it, Apollo.”
And this is precisely the reason why he likes you so much. The way you look at him, the way you care about him and just know him so well. His hands ball into fists at his sides and he screws his eyes shut because he knows it’s now or never.
“I’M FINE, I JUST SERIOUSLY CARE ABOUT YOU AND WANT TO BE YOUR BOYFRIEND!!”
(Nailed it... not! Why couldn’t I be cool for once and say it... like a normal person!?)
His lips form a jagged line as the room goes silent, his own ears ringing from how loud his voice as his thoughts continue to run rampant. He can feel the heat creep up his neck all the way to the tips of his ears, there’s no doubt in his mind that he’s as red as his jacket draped across the back of the couch.
The feeling of you taking one of his hands breaks him out of the prison of his thoughts as he forces his eyes open to look at you and his heart twists itself into a pretzel as you smile at him, face just as red as his own. “Y-Yes, you're fine, Apollo. Because,” you take a deep breath in and squeeze your eyes shut, “I REALLY LIKE YOU, TOO, AND I’D LOVE TO GO ON A DATE WITH YOU!”
He can’t help but jump a bit when you put your own Chords of Steel practice to use, but he’s instantly overwhelmed by a tidal wave of feelings by your own confession, deeply touched by how you matched his confession to make him feel better about himself. Along with the fact that you actually like him back, of course. He feels absolutely over the moon, it was something straight out of his wildest dreams.
But... date. Oh no, a date! He hadn’t thought that far ahead, he’d been too focused on the confession bit of things and he’s quickly brought back down to Earth. His eyes widen at the realization as his mind blanks about what to ask you to do.
(Think, Justice, think!)
But thankfully, you give his hand a comforting squeeze. “How about we grab some dinner together this Saturday at around four? And maybe catch a movie after that? I know that one manga adaptation you wanted to see is still showing...”
“That’d be perfect,” he says, rubbing the top of his head again, but this time feeling more giddy than embarrassed.
Yeah, maybe you know him a bit too well... but he’s glad to have an excuse , although he’d spare the details since he didn’t want her crashing your first date together.
Oh gosh hallo ace author! I wrote a while back but if it’s okay now that requests are open again could I maybe request a Ron DeLite confession type scenario with the prompt 122 “Sorry, I didn’t hear a word you just said”? since he speaks so quietly sometimes!
Yes!!! I’m so glad you sent a request in. Ron’s such a fun character with an adorable design! And he’s also p much the same age as me which is neat! ^^ But I adore tropes and cheeisness so I could not help myself.This exists in an AU before Ron and Dessie meet, for context.Prompt is from this list!
The dark lake reflects the milky light of the full moon overhead, its dappling waves twinkling like starlight. You sit with your ankles submerged in it, cool water lapping at your ankles as you stare up at the clear night sky above in all its resplendent glory.
Ron sits beside you, hands fidgeting in his lap as he nods his head, seemingly lost in thought. He’d been acting strange all evening and this sudden request to visit this particular park, far enough away from the light pollution to enjoy some stargazing was… strange. But certainly not unwelcome.
It’s late enough that it’s just the two of you left, alone, with the expansive park all to yourselves. You trust that he’ll voice whatever it is plaguing him, but in the meantime, you can appreciate the beauty around you.
“This view is absolutely lovely, isn’t it?”
“Y-Yes! It is.” From your peripheral vision, you can see him rend his hands in his lap as his voice drops to a fraction of a whisper, “B-B-But not as lovely as you.”
Wait. Did he just…? The possibility of him flirting with you so obviously is enough to flood your cheeks with the gentle warmth of a blush. You could barely hear him, so you aren’t sure if you understood him correctly. It’s... too good to be true, isn’t it?
“Hm?”
You turn to him after a moment’s delay, expecting him to simply repeat what he’d just muttered under his breath. He does not.
He inhales deeply, but still only mumbles, “I-Imeanyou’reverylovelyandIcareaboutyousomuch.” He screws his eyes shut and balls his hands into fists in front of him, spiral hair springing out with each syllable. “AndIwanttobemorethanjustfriendswithyoooouuu!”
All you can do is blink at him, overwhelmed by all of the…words(?) he just said. But even when he’d raised his voice, you hadn’t understood a single lick of it aside from the word ‘friends’ and ‘you.’
“…Sorry, I didn’t hear a word you just said,” you say, with what you hope is a reassuring smile. “Could you maybe repeat that for me?”
His shoulders sag and tears begin to flood his eyes. Instinctively, you reach out a hand and give his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. He nods slightly at the contact and takes yet another deep breath, but this time.
“I-I said… that you’re, um, lovelier than the sky a-and that I, um, care about you... a lot and... u-um, want to be more than friends.” His courage wanes as he withdraws back into himself, his final words coming out in a quiet jumble, “Something like that…”
The gentle waves kiss your ankles, the quiet song of the waves filling the silence that surges between the two of you as you process his words. It feels almost too good to be true, like a wish upon a fallen star coming true.
But it is. The feeling of his shoulder underneath your hand is real and grounding, pulling you back down to earth. Back into the moment and the bliss of your reality.
You press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “You’re too sweet... and I’d love that.”
His brown eyes light up with delight and love as he looks at you, brighter than any of the twinkling stars studding the black velvet sky above. And the kiss he presses to your lips (initially with shy uncertainty that slowly melts into affectionate tenderness), is the loveliest thing of all on that gentle night.
Ace demiboy reader x also ace Sebastian Debeste. You're a musician and you end up meeting when you're performing in the park. You've got a crush on Sebastian but you're also worried that he wouldn't be fine with being in a relationship with an asexual. You're playing of your worries and he notices. Reader plays either a typical street performer instrument, an accordian, or perhaps an Otamatone...
As an ace writer, I was very excited to write for this request. Okay, terrible overdone pun aside!!! I opted for an accordion because I’m very fond of them. I hope you enjoy it, anon! ^^Feat. Ace!Trans!Male!Reader and Ace!Sebastian Debeste.
Your fingers dance across the melody keys as the bellows expand and contract with each of your movements, accordion music filling the air. The sun is shining overhead and a gentle breeze is rustling through the nearby bushes. A perfect day for playing out in one of your usual haunts, the heart of a bustling park.
A few people stop, listen, and then take their leave. You don’t really pay any of them too much mind, sparing a smile and a quiet ‘thank you’ whenever one leaves a tip. Sometimes you’re even forgetting to do that much, though. It’s just hard to focus as you wait for Sebastian to show up.
He’s one of your regular audience members who often crosses by a couple of your usual places. The two of you have... well, you don’t entirely know what your relationship is. All you know is that the way he ‘conducts’ your performances makes you laugh and you really enjoy talking with him during your breaks, getting surprisingly deep sometimes. Being around him makes you happy and you want more of it.
You think that there’s something there, the flirting seems to be mutual at least... so you decided that today would be the day you finally act on it and ask him out to a simple cafe date if he shows up. It’s not exactly guaranteed, after all, even if this is one of the usual places you encounter him.
Several songs come and go without him appearing, and with each one, you slip deeper and deeper into your anxieties. What if he doesn’t like men romantically? What if your being transgender is an issue for him when it came to a romantic relationship? What if he doesn’t want to be in a relationship with someone who’s asexual?
What if... What if... What if...
Each question crumbles your resolve a little bit more. Maybe asking him out on a date is a bad idea, perhaps just staying friends first would be for the best... even if you really like him. Sure enough, he appears, bright red jacket draped around his shoulders and baton in hand.
The sight of him alone is enough to put your mind into a temporary ease, laughing to yourself as he raises his baton with a flourish and begins to conduct to your music (as always). He flashes a smile at you, soft and easy, the kind that makes it feel like a beautiful day and sets butterflies aflutter in your stomach.
Unfortunately, like all things, the song comes to an end and in the silence, your anxieties return. Your legs ache from standing and performing as long as you have and... it’s now or never. You might as well get it over with if you’re going to do it at all.
Taking a sharp breath in, you set your accordion down and sit down on the bench you were stationed at. The loitering passersby disperse (well, all but one), a couple leaving you a few dollars in tips as you take a deep drink from your bottle of water. Sebastian retracts his baton and joins you on the bench, as has become customary for the two of you.
However, he seems closer than usual, his shoulder practically brushing against your own. Did the two of you always sit like this or—?
“That was some phantasmagorical playing just now!”
“I think you may mean phenomenal, Sebastian. Phantasmagorical has to do with dreams and illusions and stuff,” you say, having to bite back a smile. He’s really too cute...
His ahoge straightens upwards at the gentle correction and you can see a hint of a blush spread across his cheeks. However, he quickly recovers and gives you a sage nod.
“Ah, yes! Phenomenal playing is what I meant! Thank you for the correction.”
“Hey, words are hard.” You give him a small shrug, doing your best to reassure him as you always do.
“Words are, indeed, most difficult.”
You nod, letting out a soft sigh as the two of you settle into a comfortable silence. He has no idea... Between the words ‘asexual’ and ‘date’ you’re having one hell of a problem asking what you want. But you need to, it shouldn’t be hard. Just invite him to a cafe like he’s a friend and then tack on that it’s a date.
“Hey, Sebastian...”
“Hm?”
“After this, if you have the time, w-would you, um, like to go grab a bite to eat and some coffee together...?”
As a date.
The words tie your tongue and don’t make it past your lips as your heart pounds like a kick drum in your chest.
Sebastian perks up at the question, eyes lighting up in a way you hadn’t seen before. “I’d like that very much, yes. My work's over for the day, so that won’t be a problem.”
You should be happy that he agreed to spend time with you. And yet... you feel even worse as your mind races with its anxiety. Does he just want to be friends with you? Would he have agreed if you’d managed to get those last three words out? Would he have agreed if he knew that you’re asexual?
His usual affect drops, brows furrowing with concern as he sees the expression on your face. “What’s the matter? Did I say something wrong?”
“N-No! Of course not.”
“...I see.” He extends his baton once again, tapping it against his open palm as he thinks for a few moments before looking back at you. “Then... what’s on your mind?”
“It’s nothing.”
That gets him pulling down on his baton, flexing it in his hands as he looks at you.
“...You don’t have to tell me, but... it hardly seems like nothing. If there’s something worrying you, you know you can tell me, right? I can be the Best listener when I want to be.”
That draws a smile out of you and it lessens the weight building up in your chest. It’s a confirmation that he really does care about you and it gives you the courage to get out some of the words weighing so heavily on your mind.
“It’s just that I’m... asexual.”
His baton goes flying through the air as he lets go of it, striking him squarely in the cheek. You wince at the contact, instinctively reaching out to soothe in the injury. But your hand stops quickly, uncertain and scared as to what his shocked expression means.
“Y-You, too?!”
You stare at him. “...You...too?”
“Correct!” He gives you a brilliant smile, as if the red welt on his face is nothing to him as he waves his baton about once again. “I am asexual, as well, you see! Mr. Edgeworth explained the word to me a few months ago and it fit like a shoe.”
“...Like a glove?”
“Precisely what I meant!” he says with a nod, but the dark blush that spreads across his cheeks.
You can’t help but let out a laugh, all the remaining weight dissipating as the warm sunlight washes over you. Perhaps this is why the two of you got on so well, you’re more alike than you originally thought... you want to get to know him more. And not as friends, but as boyfriends.
“So, does that mean you’d be okay with making it a date, then?”
His conducting comes to an abrupt halt, the curled ahoge going rigid yet again for the second time that day as his eyes dart around—seemingly connecting some dots of logic.
However, his shock quickly melts into a grin as he recomposes himself. “Y-Yes, of course! I’d very much enjoy that... and you had nothing to worry about.”
“...I’m glad.”
The two of you share a smile, but like all good things... it must come to an end. You still have some more songs to perform and money to make. With a sigh, you stand up and raise your accordion as Sebastian joins you and raises his baton.
For the remainder of your songs, he stands in front of you, conducting with the most enthusiasm and you can’t help but return in kind, swaying more to the beat and a silly grin on your face—heart singing with anticipation to the tune of your music.
