Do You Do Skully Graves And Reader (platonic)? If U Do Can Like A Qiqi!reader Or Huohuo!reader Who Helps

do you do skully graves and reader (platonic)? If u do can like a qiqi!reader or huohuo!reader who helps him with stuff whilst either talking to ghosts are just being a forgetful zombie , thanks

Skully J. Graves x Huohuo! Reader

hi! I tried my best to adapt his personality to the new parts of event story, you can let me know if you wanted something different!

The fog clung to the streets, curling like ghostly fingers around every corner of the village. The eerie ambiance would have sent shivers down most people’s spines, but not Skully J. Graves. No, he basked in it, breathing in the cold, misty air with a grin so wide it would have made Jack Skellington proud. He adjusted his coat, looking proudly over the plans for his ideal Halloween.

“No lights,” he muttered, scribbling frantically on a scrap of parchment. “No candy. And absolute, complete darkness.” His grin widened, almost maniacal. “Perfect.”

“Skully, uh… why would anyone want a Halloween with no candy?” A soft voice broke his concentration, and he glanced up to see you, the strange friend who always seemed to be muttering to thin air. Except, in your case, it wasn’t thin air.

Around you, unseen to everyone else, lingered several translucent spirits, floating lazily like they didn’t have a care in the world. One of them—a particularly cheeky ghost with a mischievous smirk—whispered in your ear.

“No candy, no fun,” you echoed what the ghost said, looking between Skully and the air with slight anxiety. “I think he might be right, Skully… What if people just want to, you know, enjoy themselves?”

Skully rolled his eyes, barely hiding a grin. “Candy is for the weak. Jack Skellington never handed out candy. He—wait, what do you mean he might be right?” His eyes narrowed, staring directly where one of the ghosts hovered. “You talking to them again?”

You shrugged, giving a sheepish smile. “They’ve got opinions too, you know.”

Before Skully could respond, you were back to murmuring to another ghost. “No, no, no, I’m not ignoring you… Okay, okay, I’ll tell him.” You turned back to Skully. “Uh… the ghost by the market says you should maybe reconsider the ‘no lights’ thing. Might freak out the little ones.”

Skully crossed his arms, huffing. “Freaking out is the point, my dear Huohuo! A true Halloween isn’t about fun and games. It’s about terror, darkness, and—beating up ghosts, obviously.”

One of the spirits around you let out a melodramatic wail, clearly offended. You winced, giving Skully a helpless look. “You really hurt their feelings…”

Skully sighed dramatically, waving his hand dismissively. “They’ll get over it. I’m just saying—Jack would agree with me.”

“He’s still mad you didn’t give him that apple the other day,” you added as if that were part of the conversation.

Skully paused, blinking at you. “Wait… what?”

“Not important!” you quickly blurted, pushing past the topic, eyes darting to the spirits floating around you. “But, hey, how about we add a few spooky lights, you know? Like those lanterns with creepy faces carved into them? It’d keep the kids from getting totally lost and still fit your dark aesthetic.”

Skully stared at you for a long moment, his intense eyes seeming to bore into your soul—or maybe into the spirits’ souls. You couldn’t really tell. Finally, he sighed, rubbing his temple. “Fine. Some lights. But only the spookiest kind.”

One of the spirits around you cheered silently, and you grinned. “See, compromise works!”

As you helped Skully finalize his Halloween of nightmares, you couldn’t help but think about how strange this dynamic was. You, a soft-hearted (if slightly anxious) spirit-communicator, and Skully, a Halloween-obsessed enigma who idolized Jack Skellington. And yet, somehow, you made the perfect team.

Then came the moment where you had to address the elephant in the room—or rather, the ghosts in the air. As you adjusted some spooky decorations, one of the ghosts began wailing about something from the past. You sighed, turning to Skully with a rare moment of seriousness.

“Skully, can we pause for a second?”

He glanced up from his pile of cobwebs and fake skeletons, raising an eyebrow. “What now? Another ghost’s feelings hurt?”

“No… it’s just…” You bit your lip. “I know I act a little… goofy sometimes. But I do take what I do seriously, you know? Helping these ghosts—it’s important to me.”

For the first time, Skully looked a little taken aback. He slowly straightened up, gazing at you with something close to admiration. “I know. You’re weird, but you’re good at what you do.” He hesitated before giving you a rare, almost tender smile. “Thanks for… you know… always being here.”

You grinned, a warmth spreading in your chest at the compliment. “Hey, someone’s gotta make sure your Halloween doesn’t turn into complete chaos.”

“Chaos is the goal!” Skully insisted, but there was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

And as you two continued working on what was sure to be the weirdest, most ghost-infested Halloween in history, you couldn’t help but feel like—just maybe—this peculiar friendship (and the random ghosts) were exactly where you were meant to be.

Masterlist

Xilonen looks so cool 🥰

Romance Roulette — Rollo Flamme x reader

You, Rollo's self-proclaimed bestfriend, have been trying to set him up with someone for the past few weeks. If all your plans fail, maybe you should do it yourself?

Rollo Week Day 2!

You’re absolutely convinced that one of these days, Mount Rollo is going to erupt—metaphorically speaking. The man is a storm in human form, and if anyone needs to loosen up, it’s him. As his self-declared bestie, you’ve decided it’s your personal mission to fix this. And what better way to prevent a volcanic explosion than by finding him the perfect date?

Date 1: The Perfectionist

For the first attempt, you decide to set him up with someone equally serious—a meticulous scholar who practically breathes textbooks, just like Rollo. You arrange a nice little lunch at a quiet, book-filled café. The ambiance is perfect: walls stacked with old books, the soft clink of teacups, and an academic atmosphere. You figure they’ll be intellectual soulmates.

Everything goes well—until they start debating. What begins as a pleasant discussion about historical architecture quickly escalates into a competition of who knows more obscure facts.

Rollo’s frown deepens as his date continuously tries to one-up him. By the time their coffee arrives, they’ve gone through no fewer than five intense debates about the most esoteric details of 14th-century bricklaying techniques.

You check on them an hour later, only to see Rollo sitting there, arms crossed, looking like he’s ready to punch a library in the face. His date is still babbling on about the aesthetic superiority of Gothic buttresses.

When you catch him outside after the disastrous date, Rollo sighs heavily and mutters, “I’ve had more stimulating conversations with my textbooks.”

“Well, they can’t all be winners!” you laugh awkwardly.

Date 2: The Overenthusiast

Clearly, the last one was too intense. You decide to go for a different approach—a cheerful, bubbly person who’s passionate about spontaneous adventures. Maybe someone who will drag Rollo out of his stoic shell with some boundless enthusiasm and positivity.

The date starts off on a hike, and Rollo already looks skeptical as they begin rattling off suggestions for future extreme sports they should try together. “Skydiving’s on my bucket list,” they say, oblivious to Rollo’s growing dread. “Oh! And I’ve always wanted to try base jumping.”

“I don’t have wings,” Rollo deadpans.

Things only go downhill from there. His date suggests bungee jumping off a nearby cliff, just to spice things up. Rollo’s jaw tightens like he’s physically restraining himself from yelling, and by the end of the hike, he looks like he’s been through some kind of personal hell.

As they part ways, Rollo gives you a flat look. “I don’t understand how you come up with these people.”

You just shrug, trying to hold back your laughter. “Maybe you just need to learn how to let loose!”

His scowl deepens, and you’re already mentally planning Date #3.

Date 3: The Tortured Artist

Next up, you think Rollo needs someone with a creative soul—an artist with a vision, someone who’ll talk about the beauty of life and inspire him with their philosophical musings. You manage to track down someone who’s always talking about their next big project and their deep thoughts on the human condition.

Things start off okay, but midway through dinner, they begin rambling about the chaotic beauty of life. “You see, Rollo, destruction is just a form of rebirth. Every time something breaks, it’s just… making way for something new.”

Rollo stares at them like they’ve grown a second head. “I believe in structure and order,” he says stiffly.

The artist looks unfazed, waving their hand dramatically. “But chaos is art!”

By the time the night is over, Rollo looks like he’s aged ten years. When he returns to you, he mutters, “They suggested we burn down the restaurant. For ‘art.’”

You burst into laughter. “Okay, maybe not the creative type either.”

Rollo glares. “Stop trying to torture me.”

Date 4: The Free Spirit

Alright, maybe what Rollo needs is someone who’s completely carefree—a person with no boundaries or restrictions, someone who doesn’t sweat the small stuff. You set him up with a free-spirited individual who lives life with a “no rules” philosophy. They suggest meeting at a park for a casual walk, and at first, it seems like things are going fine.

Then they start suggesting that they should start a protest about “the man keeping us down” and skipping stones at a restricted pond area because, “rules are just social constructs, man.”

Rollo’s eye twitches as they start skipping stones like it’s no big deal. “You realize you’re breaking the law, correct?”

“It’s just a pond,” they wave him off. “Live a little!”

The date doesn’t last much longer. As soon as they part ways, Rollo gives you the most exhausted look you’ve ever seen. “Why do you do this to me?”

You grin, feeling only slightly guilty. “You said you needed to loosen up.”

“I’m going to throw you into that pond next time,” he mutters, but you can see the faintest smirk on his lips.

Date 5: The Socialite

This time, you think you’ve cracked the code. Someone social and charming, who knows how to navigate high society. You arrange a dinner with an outgoing socialite who can hold their own in any conversation.

Except, they spend the entire date talking about all the high-profile parties they attend, the famous people they’ve met, and their networking skills. Rollo is clearly unimpressed, barely saying a word as they drop name after name, and by the end of the night, he looks like he’s had all the life drained out of him.

“They talked more about themselves than any lesson I’ve ever attended,” he mutters to you afterward.

“Wasn’t that fun?” you tease, trying not to laugh.

Rollo just glares at you, muttering something about “irreparable damage.”

After the fifth disaster, you both sit in the café (again), your chin resting in your hands as you ponder your failure. “Maybe I’m just not cut out to be a matchmaker…”

“I’ve been telling you that since the first date,” Rollo replies dryly, sipping his tea.

You stare at the cup, lost in thought, then blink. "What if I just find someone more like...me?" Your eyes light up. "Of course! How did I not think of that before—"

"I think I’ve figured that out myself," Rollo cuts in. His tone is so dry, you almost miss the little sarcastic jab in it. He raises an eyebrow. “Why not just date me yourself, then? You’re the only one I can stand at this point.”

You pause mid-sip, blinking. “...What?”

He shakes his head, clearly joking, lips curling into a faint smirk. “You’re already committed to this ridiculous mission. Why not be my date, if you're so determined?”

Rollo’s tone is light, and you can tell he’s not being serious, but something clicks in your mind. You blink at him like he’s just handed you the Holy Grail. Slowly, you lower your teacup. “Wait...that’s...brilliant.”

It’s Rollo’s turn to blink. “What?”

You snap your fingers. “I’ll do it! I’ll date you!”

The smirk falls from his face as he processes your words. “What? No—wait—I wasn’t—” His usual composure slips for a moment, a flicker of shock in his eyes. “You’re serious?”

“Obviously,” you grin, completely oblivious to his shock. “I mean, I’ve been spending all this time trying to find someone else, but why would I need to? We get along great, I know your quirks, you know mine—this is perfect!”

Rollo is still processing, his mouth slightly open, like you’ve just told him the world is flat. “I wasn’t actually expecting you to—”

“So,” you interrupt, leaning in with a smug smile, “where are you taking me on our first date?”

Rollo groans, rubbing his temple. “You’re impossible.”

The date with Rollo is… interesting. You two plan a simple walk through the city, but it doesn’t take long for things to go off track. Rollo tries to impress you by leading you through what he calls a "shortcut"—a long, winding, and completely unfamiliar street that gets you both hopelessly lost.

"Is this your plan?" you tease, nudging him as he checks the map on his phone. "Get lost together so I’ll have to rely on your company?"

Rollo gives you a flat look. "No, this is my plan going terribly wrong."

But despite the mishap, the date is surprisingly fun. You tease him relentlessly about his poor sense of direction, and he grumbles about how you’ve ruined his peace, but there’s an underlying warmth to his words. It’s clear that, despite the banter, he’s enjoying himself.

After wandering around for what feels like hours, you finally find your way back to a quaint little café. You suggest stopping for a drink, and Rollo, surprisingly, agrees.

The conversation flows naturally, filled with lighthearted teasing and small smiles. Rollo, despite his usual stern demeanor, seems at ease with you, even allowing himself a small chuckle when you accidentally spill sugar all over the table.

As the evening winds down and he walks you home, there’s a comfortable silence between you two. At your ...your doorstep, you hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to end the night. Rollo stands there, watching you expectantly, clearly not used to situations like this.

“So,” you say softly, “thanks for, uh, getting us lost today.”

Rollo raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” you grin, stepping closer. “It was fun anyway.”

You lean in, brushing your lips softly against his in a quick kiss. When you pull back, Rollo is staring at you, frozen in place like he’s processing what just happened.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you ask, suddenly feeling a little shy despite the chaos of the night.

Rollo blinks, his usual serious expression faltering as a slight blush creeps into his cheeks. “...Yes,” he says, almost as if he’s surprised by his own response.

You smile at him, the warmth from the kiss still lingering, and before you can walk away, Rollo suddenly grabs your wrist, pulling you back gently. He leans in, pressing a lingering, softer kiss to your lips, as if trying to make sure this time is real.

When he pulls away, he mutters, “I suppose I should thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being insufferable enough to try this.”

You laugh softly, a lightness settling in your chest. “I aim to please.”

As you head inside, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Mount Rollo isn’t going to erupt after all. In fact, it seems you’ve found a way to calm the storm for good.

Masterlist

cws & notes: reader (and kaveh) are VERY implied to be aromantic or on the aromantic spectrum. mentions of kissing. lots of platonic affection. platonic kaveh & gn!reader. 1.1k words. wrote this for myself tbh

“So are you two dating?”

You wish you could say it's the first time you've heard the question. And you wish you could bring yourself to be annoyed about hearing it again, but you know there's no malice or spite in the words. Only a polite sort of curiousity, unaware of the way your stomach turns at the thought.

And maybe you wish you could tell Nilou 'no, we're not, why would you think that?' but you know your hand is intertwined with his, and his knee is touching yours, and you have his cheek leaning against the top of your head. You know how it looks, but that never mattered. It felt comfortable, like you fit together just right. Affectionate, with no strings attached.

That was the part that no one seemed to get. You and him were at an understanding that seemed to make sense to no one but yourselves; the squeezing hugs, and nicknames, and nights spent staying up until 3am didn't mean a thing. When you fell asleep on his shoulder, when he chastely kissed you goodbye before leaving on a work trip, it wasn't because you both harboured a secret love you were too shy to say out loud.

You adored him, of course. He was your best friend. But that was it; no strings.

There were always those who couldn't wrap their heads around the thought, the ones who insisted that they had to be at least into each other a little bit. So much time spent being friends, such closeness had to speak to a blossoming romance that just hadn't quiet bloomed yet, right?

What they didn't know was you had tried, your senior year at the Akademiya. It was after all of the comments about how odd it was that they were so close without being a couple finally started to get to them. During a party hosted by a classmate you don't remember the name of, when the teasing and jabs had gotten a little too much, you had found him taking a breather out on the front steps.

Conversation came easily, comfort came quietly, and soon the topic shifted to what people were saying. It was always talk, rumours, gossip. But he could see how they were weighing on you. He could see the look of doubt in your eyes, wondering if this was something you were supposed to want.

If you can't bring yourself to fall for the most important person in your life, then what was wrong with you? Was love a prize that you were never going to win, a lock that you're never going to find the key for?

“Will you kiss me?” You blurted out, and his eyebrows raise. “J-Just once. I just... everyone keeps telling me I'm supposed to like you, and you're supposed to like me, but I just...”

“You want to see?” Kaveh asked hesitantly. You swallow, and nod. “I don't want to do something you don't want to do.”

“I want to. Please, I... I don't want to ask anyone else.” You paused, before quietly adding on, “If there's truly something wrong with me, I want to know now.”

The pinch between Kaveh's eyebrows deepened, but there was a flicker of vulnerability behind his eyes. Some part of him was flashing with the same fear, wondering if there was something wrong with him too, all because he couldn't muster up enough emotion to see you in a romantic light.

Carefully, he placed his hand on your cheek, bringing your face closer to his. There was a pause, before he met your lips in an awkward kiss. There were no sparks that crackled against your mouth, no butterflies in your stomach. It was a unpleasant clashing of teeth together, with your cracked lips pressing against his soft ones for a second too long.

You pull away, face flushed with embarrassment more than anything. “I... I don't think I want to do that again.”

“Me neither.” Kaveh grimaced. He sighed, leaning back to give you a bit more space. “Why do you worry so much about what they say?”

“Because! I'm supposed to enjoy it, aren't I?” There were tears in your eyes, but you didn't care. If there was one person you could cry around, it was him. “What is wrong with me? Why can't I even fake it?”

“You don't need to!” Kaveh said quickly. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Maybe... maybe some people just don't like that sort of love. I know I sure don't, and I've known you long enough to figure out you don't either. We don't have to be a couple to care about each other, right?”

You stared at him, slightly dazed. “...I guess not.”

And since that night, you've never been able to forget his words, and the way he said them. It was like your world got shifted around, and nothing seemed quite the same. All the stress about love, all the worry about whether people thought you were a couple seemed so insignificant all of a sudden.

Yet, your new lighter worldview never stopped that burning question, that followed the pair of you like a shadow.

“So, are you two dating?”

The question echoes in your head, sounding over and over. Nilou is still staring at you, waiting for an answer, although her gaze occasionally flicks to your linked hands resting on his lap.

“We're just friends,” Kaveh responds smoothly. He lets go of your hand long enough to wave away the question, laughing lightly. “Honestly, the amount of times I've been asked that...”

“O-Oh!” Nilou's eyes widen, and her cheeks turn pink. Part of you feels bad for making her look so flustered, but the uncomfortable twist in your gut reminds you that it was her question that started it in the first place. “I didn't mean to assume... you just look so close!”

“We are.” He smiles gently. “But I can assure you we are very happy as friends. Neither of us are interested in that sort of relationship, much less with each other.”

She nods, as if she understands, but there's still confusion behind her expression.

It didn't matter. People didn't have to get what was so special about the two of you. They didn't have to understand what you had, and what you lacked, and why it didn't make much of a difference at all.

You were friends, best friends. And that was plenty enough love for the both of you.

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai

Sampo, Jing Yuan, Ratio and Gepard got body swap with female reader

"𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎?!"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Sampo, Jing Yuan, Ratio and Gepard

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Body Swap?!

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes

💫𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈: Sorry Im not posting too much, I've got so much work 😔

𝒮𝒶𝓂𝓅𝑜 𝒦𝑜𝓈𝓀𝒾 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇-𝒯𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓊𝑒𝒹 𝒮𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓃"

This had to be some kind of nightmare, you shouldn’t have trusted Sampo at all, especially fighting a monster no less. Each breath you took felt like burning to your lungs while sharp pain hit your stomach.

Sampo, like the bastard he is, swoops in at the last second to take your glory, just to call it “teamwork.” Yet what both didn’t expect was the monster to explode and be sprayed like a fountain of gunk on both of your bodies, disgusting. Only to flicker your eyelids open to find a white-liquid-covered self staring back? Wait what’s happening?! 

Sampo doesn’t seem as freaked out as you do, honestly, he might just be enjoying this a tad bit too much, staring at anything that reflects your body, or saying things in your voice that you would never say! 

Yet, you’ll have to clean the gunk on your bodies soon. But that’s where the problem lies, it’s all Sampos fault.

It's funny, how you both stand in the bathroom, having a staring contest because you refuse to let him get in there, who knows what kinds of creepy things he’ll think about having all that “free access” To your body gives you the shivers. Your towel is wrapped around your chest even in Sampo’s body while he’s wrapped in a towel, note that it’s very loosely around your body as if it will fall off from a small gust of wind.

“You distrust me with your body that much? I thought we were close…”

No way this is going to work on you, not when your dignity is on the line.

“Not in the slightest do I trust you.”

“That’s just cruel, there’s gunk in my hair and there’s no way I’m spending my entire night smelling as if I’m from the streets.”

He was right, it’s not like you can avoid showering or he can either. The shower has been going in the background the whole time—it would be a waste of the already high water bill.

So the compromise is showering together, but you're pressed very close to each other, your chest against his—after all, he doesn’t want you to see his family jewels either…it feels weird holding yourself… so close, especially when it’s Sampo doing far too much while in your body.

“You call me a pervert but here you are…” you would never say that, never say in a tone like that, you would never make that expression…his hand goes to wrap itself around the back of your head, leaning down to only get the view of your face.

“Don’t…”

He was far too close, so close that you knew what he was thinking in that brain of his. Even when you tried to pull away he only pressed your foreheads together. “It’s just a secret deal between us,” He whispers in your voice, it feels weird looking at your face while in Sampo's body.

“Close your eyes.”

His lips still envelope your own, he made you experience from the outside in your body yet you, on the other hand, make him laugh with those shy, cheeks dusted with pink on your face.

“See, it doesn't feel so bad.”

The hand of your body lands on your chest while Sampo speaks through your voice in a sing-songy tone, which only gives shivers down your spine. “Don’t look down,”

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈"

“Jing yuan! Could stop lazing around! I think I might die if this continues!”

You couldn’t last another day like this. Playing general while he lazed around in yours, is the worse! Honestly, you might just get charged with impersonation of The General of the Loufu. It’s bad that even Yanqing noticed the change and has been looking at you funny.

You're still determining how it happened. Like a blur in your memory, but you want out! Like right this instant! But again, Jing Yuan is having a relaxed time in your body, as if he’d already retired from being General. Laying in your shared bed, while wearing loose sleeping attire he would usually wear in his body.

It was too big for your body, falling down your shoulder, and buttons on the bottom of the shirt opened up showing your stomach. Yet all of this went over his head, does it matter what he’s wearing not as if he’s ever left the house looking like that, so no need to worry about your dignity. Just lay beside him and tell him your worries.

“Yanqing is always looking at me funny, I might be charged with impersonation soon! What will I do then!” you complain staring at the ceiling with vain on popping from your forehead. An expression that he would never wear but it’s funny watching you freak while he lays on the side, listening to complaints about your day as him.

“You worry too much, nothing will happen,” he chuckles,  “It must have been lonely without me right? I was feeling so alone in this house without you,” he mutters, pushing his body up with a soft grunt escaping from his lips. His face right against your own, funny, how you’ve switched places, him pleading for your attention. Things don't change.

Always thinking about affection even if your bodies switched, what difference does the feeling make? You still have that blush while he grins down at you, before stealing your lips for a taste, a little mishap won’t stop him from loving you.

𝒱𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓈 𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜 "𝑀𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝐼𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈𝒾𝒶 𝒢𝓊𝒾𝓁𝒹"

“Looks like I’ve overpowered you this time, veritas.”

You seem to be having far too much fun with his body, far too much, looks like for the first time in your life you’ve actually “overpowered” him, in his body (not much of an achievement in life if you ask him). That smug expression you always make doesn’t suit the curvatures of his face in slightly. He would never act like that.

A scoff leaves his lips, crossing his arm, staring up at you with an intense gaze (that doesn’t suit you either) while you have him caged against the wall. He must commend you since you finally recreated a scene out of a romance novel under your current circumstances, you’ve probably been waiting to strike.

Yet even now, it seems like he’s overpowered you, giving you no satisfaction to your delusions. A scoff leaves his lips, well, your body's lips? Clicking his tongue while he’s at it. “You disappoint me with cheap tricks.” He mutters in your voice, staring at you like that, it’s bad that you can’t help but falter even though it’s coming to your body.

“Can’t you play along for once?!” You groan, feeling the awkwardness of his self-awareness. Completely letting go of your act just to complain about his unwillingness.  You truly are enjoying your time, so why doesn’t he as well? Even someone like you has advantages when it comes to your body.

After all, it isn’t all about strength, just a couple of cheap tricks (but it’s fine since it’s your body, so not too out of character). Watching you just roughly scratch the top of his head, ruffling the hair of his body. He just does the same thing you had done to him.

Pressing you against the wall, while his hand is beside your shoulder. Honestly, to anyone else, they would laugh hard at the sight of THE Dr. Ratio getting pinned against the wall as if it were a scene out of a romance novel.

“Veritas—“

“You talk too much, with such ignorance in your tone of voice.”

“Veritas! You put the shivers down my spine, seriously how did you do that in my body!?” You shriek like some kind of fan girl at a concert, just makes him frown at how you’re acting.

“Enough of this, are you even listening?”

𝒢𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝐿𝒶𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓊 "𝒞𝒶𝓅𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓃𝑒 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓈"

“I'm so sorry, I can’t!”

He can’t do this to you. Not when he’s in your body and you can’t do the same to him either. Both of you are a complete mess from the frozen dirt and snow, which is why you're like this right now, clothes wet (even after wearing so many layers), bodies cold (just asking to get sick), and both of you flustered because a body switch. 

Just looking at each other with red blush on your cheeks; your clothes soaked to the brim with cold water dripping down. You both have to take a shower, or you both are waiting to get sick. He feels it’s wrong to undress himself in your body, he can’t do that to a lady! He’s some kind of creep! 

“You can’t just stay like that, or else you’ll get sick,” you mutter with the same embarrassing mindset he’s carrying, your hands going to the shirt buttons of your body, he instantly snatched his head to the side, feeling the welt cloth shirt slowly whisks off his body leaving him shiver in the cold. He can’t force himself to look to the front. Not when your body has the top left on.

“Can you help me take off my shirt?” you breathed, feeling your ears and face get unbearable hot even when you were drenched in cold water. He kept his head high, not looking down for even a second when the hands of your body gently unbuttoned his shirt while your eyes shifted while gazing into his eyes, which made things worse for the both of you.

You could hear his breath hitch at a moment like this, the eye contact looked much, even in his body your eyes still told him what you were feeling, right now it was a bad thing, he felt his heart skip a beat.

“I won’t look anywhere but your eyes,” he reassures you once more.

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“So, what made you come to Paris?“, you asked, spearing a buttery potato with your fork.

“Ever seen the movie Ratatouille? Completely changed my life. I just knew I had to follow Remy‘s footsteps.“

Tendou immediately regretted his answer the moment the words leaped out of his mouth. He finally managed to ask you out, a girl so far out of his league that he had already sent bragging texts to his former teammates before he even got dressed for the first date, and now this. You looked at him, blinked for a moment, and just as he started seeing his life flashing before his eyes, you burst out into a snort of laughter. A few people at nearby tables turned to stare but he only waved them off, focusing on you trying to regain composure.

For weeks he had seen you in the afternoon waiting for the same train as him. In the mornings your route to work took you by the shop he worked at and one day, as you were ogling the pralines displayed in the window, biting your lip in torn temptation, you had made eye contact with him and soon started smiling and nodding and eventually even waving to him as you passed the chocolaterie. He figured, once he was at the train station you didn‘t recognize him without his large white hat and pristine uniform and he didn‘t know how to approach you. That was until a terribly helpful gust of wind blew your scarf right off your neck and he chased it down for you, giving him the perfect opportunity to ask for your name, your number, and your time to get together.

And now you sat across from him in a corner of a tiny restaurant, with lights dancing in your eyes, wearing a dress that was obviously designed to make him crazy with how exquisitely it wrapped around your soft body.

You cleared your throat and said, “I was always more a Beauty and the Beast girly myself. After seeing it I always yelled Bonjour! every morning - drove my friends and family nuts! People on the street were looking at me weird, too, so I decided to move to France.“

Now it was on Tendou to laugh. Wiping a tear out of the corner of his eyes he chuckled, “I love you.”

“Hm?”

“I asked if you wanted to get dessert.”

You beamed at him and nodded.