doryyaaa

[doryyaaa]

Sorry this isn't a request, but I would like to know whether it has to be a ship, or if it can be platonic as well, between any characters?

it can certainly be platonic between any characters!

idk when i might get to ur request tho i have not had the spoons to write anything for a while T_T

[doryyaaa]

Thank you to everyone who got me to 500 likes!

[doryyaaa]

chews this guy up like hes a ravioli. (affectionate)

[doryyaaa]

more male characters should be designed like T8 steve fox i feel

[doryyaaa]

some redditor was complaining about steven looking and sounding weird (incorrect) and ended w "complete lack of a forehead" hahahahahhah

[doryyaaa]

quick update just to say this month has been SUPER busy x_x but i'm hoping to get some requests filled by this weekend or the next hehe

[doryyaaa]

Can you write Hwoarang x Reader please? It would be nice to see Hwoarang jealous of the reader for being close to Jin

It’s raining hard, and Hwoarang comes home to your shared apartment with an unexpected guest in tow.

“What a pain in the ass,” Hwoarang says, his clothes sopping wet from the rain. Beside him, Jin is in no better state, tugging off his damp boots in the entryway.

“Should have checked the weather forecast before getting on that bike,” Jin says with a slight shake of his head.

“Like you have any right to lecture me. I could kick you out right now.” Hwoarang wags a finger at Jin, who wrinkles his nose like a mildly annoyed cat. Before their bickering could go on, you pop in through the hallway with warm, fluffy towels in hand.

“There will be no kicking in this house,” you say, hospitable host that you are. “Come on in, Jin. Feel free to stay for as long as you need.”

“Thanks. You’re really nice—unlike somebody here.” Jin sniffles. He takes a light punch to the arm from Hwoarang.

“And who was it that so kindly invited you over in the first place?”

“Yeah, yeah—”

Hwoarang clicks his tongue. He grabs the towels and throws one at Jin’s face.

“Oh! I’ll make some hot drinks. Would you prefer tea or coffee?” You ask Jin while trying not to laugh at his drooping hair.

Jin pauses to think. Five seconds later, he sneezes into his towel.

“Ugh, gross!” Hwoarang grimaces.

“Maybe you should warm up in the bath first,” you say, pointing Jin down the hallway. “It’s the first door to the left. Tub’s ready and all, too.”

“Sorry about this,” Jin says, his movements sluggish. Hwoarang groans. He drags Jin to the bathroom and shuts the door in his face.

“Don’t blame me if you catch a cold, you big baby!”

Once you get to the kitchen, you hear Hwoarang complaining some more. “Ah, geez, why’s it so damn cold?” The heater beeps as he turns up the knob. Then Hwoarang peels off his wet shirt, arms flexing, and flops on the couch with a deep, tired sigh.

“Be sure to dry yourself properly,” you say, putting the kettle on. You don’t ask about Hwoarang’s preferred drink, only because you already know it by heart. When the water boils, you switch off the burner.

Before you know it, Hwoarang closes the distance between you. He puts his hand on the counter in front and locks you in with his body. You feel his bare chest at your back, his breath warm on your nape. He sighs again, tickling at your skin.

“Tough crowd, huh? What’s a guy gotta do to get some attention around here?” Hwoarang mouths at the crook of your neck. His other hand slides up your shirt. The temperature rises around you.

“Wait—we have a guest.” Though you lean into his touch, savoring the heat from his lips.

“Forget about that loser,” Hwoarang says. “You’re all mine, and mine alone. Got that?”

“Of course, silly.” Turning to face him, you hold him in your arms and share a long, deep kiss. He grows a mischievous grin, and lifts you onto the bare counter. You kiss again, bodies pressed flush together. Slowly, your hands inch up to take the towel from his shoulder, gently draping it over his damp hair.

“Don’t catch a cold,” you whisper, and Hwoarang smirks.

"Help me warm up?"

"Who's the big baby now?" You giggle in between more kisses. The cold has thoroughly left the room. Hwoarang keeps you in his embrace, all the same, content to have you close.

[doryyaaa]

Presenting... TEKKEN ATE!!!

Tekken Ate ✨ is a casual friendly Tekken 8 discord server. (18+, no minors.)

Tired of dudebros flooding your fight lounge? Need a safe space to yell about how your 6-foot plus war criminal is just a bbgirl? 🎀 Look no further.

(Updated link!)

[doryyaaa]

Hi there! Would it be possible to request a Steve x reader story about him declining to sing while you're at karaoke but makes up for it with a trip to the music store to play the ukulele? I know it's a bit specific, so it's okay if it doesn't quite spur the inspiration! But I'd love to see you tackle if it you can

The victory party is in full swing. Steve Fox stands triumphant in the center of the room, raising his newest championship belt for everyone to see. The strobe lights shine across him like diamond trails over his blond, slicked-back hair. His boxing gloves are still strung over his shoulders, and he’s knocking back beer glasses with his mates like there’s no tomorrow. At some point, you take your eyes off him for just a few seconds, but he’s quickly closed the distance and sidles up to you at the bar area.

“Fancy another drink, luv?” Steve raises two fingers to the bartender, and slings an arm over your shoulders. His fresh cologne scent tickles your nose. The bartender returns with your drink, and Steve happily clinks your glass. “Here’s to you! My darling babe, the sexiest angel and my greatest treasure in the world—”

“Okay—I get it, I get it!” You burst into a giggle as he peppers small kisses along your jawline.

“Is the party too boring for you? Any creeps hitting on you? I’ll clock ‘em in the face,” Steve says, making a show of blowing on his knuckles.

“There will be no clocking,” you say, while your eyes wander over to the karaoke machine in the corner. “How about a song? I’ve never heard you sing before.”

A drunk partygoer stumbles behind you then, and Steve is quick to shield you.

“Woah! Easy there, fella. Hands to yourself, alright?” Steve playfully bumps his fist against the partygoer’s chest, just hard enough to elicit a choked laugh. He turns his attention back to you.

“You were saying, hun?”

“Karaoke! Will you sing for me?”

Steve glances to the machine from afar. Some other drunk guys have just picked up the microphones and started belting out a beloved classic. More people gather around to cheer and tease.

“Right. Actually, maybe now’s not the best time for that,” Steve says, much to your disappointment, and you settle for imagining it in your head instead, the way Steve’s cheeky tone might shift into a deep, honeyed timbre.

Your tiny pout must have left a mark on Steve, though, because he skips the after-party to go for a walk with you into a fancy shopping district. The sun has already set, and soft fairy lights glow from the surrounding gardens. Steve leads you by the hand through boardwalk, gentle as ever. He stops to cover both your eyes before nudging you towards a certain shop.

“Alright, you can look now!”

You find Steve’s adoring smile, and the music store standing quiet behind him, deserted at this odd hour.

“Here’s a special performance, just for you.” Steve picks up a ukulele on display, testing a slow strum. The chords echo melodiously in your ears.

“No way.” You gasp softly. Steve strums again, easing into a slow love song, the strings vibrating under his deft fingers. He takes his time working up to the climax, never missing a note.

“What can I say?” Steve winks. “I’m a man of many talents.”

“You’re amazing."

"Why, thank you."

"A musical genius.” You press a sloppy kiss to his cheek this time, and it’s his turn to giggle, boyish in his smile.

“I just hate to see you disappointed. You mean the world to me, you know that? I'll do anything to make you happy,” Steve says between slow strumming. You kiss him again, a peck on the lips.

"You already make me the happiest I can be."

"Oh, my heart." Steve ends the song with one last strum, soft and full of love. He puts the ukulele down, and pulls you in for a sweet embrace.

It’s much, much better than anything you could have imagined.

[doryyaaa]

very shy to ask this but the steve tag is criminally underrated for writings.............

so basically.....

the steven fic just needs a bit more time in the oven but it might be ready tomorrow😳🥊💫❤️

[doryyaaa]

Hi 👋🏻 I really loved the hwoarang x baker reader (I'm another anon, btw) & I was wondering if I could request a part 2? Like maybe they get together after a few months and reader meets Baek later on?

hwoarang bakery meetcute pt 2 is here! 🍞❤️

(read pt 1 here)

As promised, Hwoarang shows up at your bakery’s doorstep the very next day, on the same sleepless hour when your shift is just about to begin. Though the sign firmly says Closed, he knows to let himself in. From the kitchen, you hear his sauntering steps across the shop floor.

“Hey.” Hwoarang leans against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and biceps in full view. “Excited to see me?” he asks with a devious little grin.

You smile back at him in a simple greeting, and pull a huge tray of bread pudding from the oven. “Good—you came at just the right time. I hope you’re hungry, ‘cos I might have baked too many portions.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Hwoarang says, and goes to join you at the worktable. That’s when you notice him lugging a plastic bag filled with an array of bottled drinks—canned coffee, bottled tea, organic juice cartons and vitamin water.

“I didn’t know what you liked to drink,” he says, “so I got a whole bunch.”

You blink down at the bounty of drinks, then look back up to Hwoarang’s expectant gaze. He’d obviously been looking forward to this just as much as you have. You wonder if that initial excitement would fade over time, if he’d grow tired of eating bread, or if the novelty of an unusual bakery experience would gradually wear out.

Sure enough, though, Hwoarang returns the next day. And the next, and the next. He comes by at least five days a week for the whole month, then keeps coming back without fail. Rarely, he’d show up later in the morning, when the shop has opened officially and the work has fully occupied you. He’d buy some dinner rolls off the shelf like a regular customer, then quietly leave your favorite drink at a corner of your workstation. Another time, he’d be missing for the whole day only to show up five minutes before closing, squeaking past the door just to catch a glimpse of your face.

Three months into your little arrangement, you happen to pass by the bakery on your day off. Rain falls in a gentle shower, soaking the street. You find Hwoarang sitting hunched at the storefront, listless under the rain.

“Hwoarang?”

Looking closer, you spot the fresh bruise on his cheek, and the small cut by the corner of his lip. He has a mean glare to his face, like a stray that could bite at any time.

You kneel close in front of him, holding the umbrella over your heads. With your free hand, you slowly cup his cheek, tilting his head upwards to see better. His eyes close from your soft touch.

“It was a stupid fight. Wasn’t even worth shit. I still won though,” Hwoarang mutters hoarsely.

“I know you did. You’re strong.”

At that, he finally cracks a tiny smile. “Nothing fazes you at all, huh?”

“Nope,” you say, never missing a beat.

“Not even the scary delinquent who comes over to steal bread every day?”

“Hey, you pay up, don’t you?” Because the tip jar was always full to the brim ever since Hwoarang started coming by. You smooth out the front of his dobok, your fingers gliding over the sculpted muscle underneath.

“My house isn’t too far from here,” you say, hand over his beating heart. “How about you come over and get yourself cleaned up? It’d be terrible if you caught a cold in this rain.”

“Yeah.” Hwoarang puts his own large hand over yours, his eyes opening to you with a new intensity, hot and smoldering like a fire. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

In another month, Hwoarang starts walking the short distance with you from home to the bakery. Under the dim streetlight, he pulls up the shutters to the store and carries the huge flour bags in for you. In the kitchen, he steals a kiss from you afterwards, pulling you in close by the waist and savoring the taste of your lips, while your hands slide up his nape, fingers in his hair, and his tongue presses into your mouth—

The shop bell rings as the front door swings open.

Hwoarang grumbles as he releases you. You instantly miss the heat of his embrace, but you’re not too disappointed. Today’s a special occasion, after all.

Today, you prepare fresh-baked pastries, sandwiches, and coffee for three people, instead of two.

“Hello there.” Baek Doo-san appears at the doorway, led by Hwoarang. “Thank you for the generous invite,” Baek says with a tip of his hat. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” you respond in kind. “Please, have a seat.”

Baek accepts gratefully, and you all sit around the worktable in the quiet hour, Hwoarang at your side, and Baek across from you. It is peaceful, for the most part, until Baek begins his teasing.

“So this is why you’ve been in such a good mood,” he says, coffee mug in hand. “I can’t believe someone could actually rein in that bad attitude of yours. I haven’t ever seen you this well-behaved in years!”

Hwoarang attempts to kick Baek under the table. Baek swiftly dodges with a chuckle.

“I’m a good boy, aren’t I?” Hwoarang turns to you, winking devilishly. You almost kiss him right then and there. You reach up to pick a crumb from his chin.

“So when’s the wedding?” Baek asks.

Hwoarang flushes and nearly chokes. You burst into laughter, combining forces with Baek to tease Hwoarang into oblivion. The lively energy fills the room, and Hwoarang ends up laughing along with you. Under the table, you feel his hand wrap around yours, fingers intertwined.

[doryyaaa]

Lee Chaolan x reader

Lee playfully sparring with his girlfriend save me... Save me Lee playfully sparring with his gf...

(Translation lol may I please request a Lee x reader where they playfully spar with each other? Lots of distracting one another, kiss and tickle attacks allowed, all bets off to who can doll out the most affectionate under the guise of sparring. And of course you may ignore or follow whatever directions you like most)

In hindsight, you should’ve known something was up when Lee suddenly asked to spar in the living room, the furniture pushes far to the sides. He’d been restless for a time, brimming with anxious energy, a mad scientist waiting to conduct his next experiment, or simply like a house cat needing extra enrichment. Regardless, you only wished to help loosen him up. Blow off some steam, kick the tension from his body and work on your own skills too.

“Come, my darling! Give it your best shot!” Lee strips his shirt with a flourish, leaving only his pants and leather boots on. He’d been running drills by himself for a while, and a thin layer of sweat glistens over his sculpted chest. He smiles devilishly and raises a beckoning finger to you.

“You asked for it.”

So you come at him with all you’ve got. You land hits one after the other and easily get him into a leg lock.

“It’s my victory!” You cackle.

But then, Lee brushes his fingertips over your ribs in a vicious tickle attack. You end up rolling over the carpet, yelling.

“That’s cheating!”

“My apologies.” Lee chortles. “I just couldn’t resist,” he says, winking once. You try your absolute best to keep a serious face.

Round two. For real, this time. Lee even swears he’ll take it seriously, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously at his smoldering gaze and that stupid, cute smile of his. A short exchange of blows later, and Lee catches you off guard with a leg sweep. You brace yourself to hit the ground, but instead, Lee swoops in fast to hold you in a surprise princess dip.

“Whoops! It seems I’ve swept you off your feet, once again. Whatever shall we do?” Lee chuckles.

If it weren’t for his strong arms locking you in place, you would have pummeled him to the ground. Or planted a kiss on his silly face. Either way, you badly needed a win, and two can play that game.

For the final round, you follow his lead earlier and remove your shirt, entering your fight stance in only your bra and pants, which apparently means fucking business to Lee. He finally drops the goofy smile. You don’t miss the way his eyes rake over your body. You swear you’ll get him on his knees and turn him into a sputtering mess.

Not a minute into the round, Lee yelps and clutches his shin. You didn’t even hit him that hard. Did he pull a muscle? Impossible. Lee can be dramatic, but you can see his move from miles away.

“Are you okay?” You step in close. When he does his leg sweep this time, you’re fully prepared to counter.

Lee squawks in surprise. You counter, flip him on his back then straddle him on the ground for an easy victory.

Despite his loss, Lee smiles wide and happily. “Oh, my sweet darling, you’ve completely beaten me now,” he says.

“You weren’t too bad yourself, you big flirt.”

“But of course! Flirting is what I do best.”

You can’t say you disagree—not when Lee pulls you down for a passionate kiss, and leaves you out of breath without even needing to spar for another round.

[doryyaaa]

Hii may I request a short fic of Kazuya x Fem reader on a date but Kazuya’s ideal date is showing off his massive shoe collection

It’s date night with Kazuya, and he’s brought you up to his office for a special surprise. The room is huge, decorated with dark wood and gold accents, plush leather sofas and glossy statues. You find no signs of any surprise, however, until Kazuya presses a button and the wall behind his desk slides wide open with a hiss.

“Woah.” Standing by the entrance, you gape at the sheer size of Kazuya’s walk-in closet, filled from floor to ceiling. There are sneakers of every kind, rare collectibles and limited runs from top brands all over the globe.

Kazuya snickers. “Well? Hurry up and get in there. Plenty more to see.”

You absolutely cannot believe this man. You follow him down the long corridor, and the tiny smirk never leaves his face. Few things ever made Kazuya this pleased, but he’s shown you yet another side of himself, a privilege granted to none other.

“So,” you ask nonchalantly, “how many pairs do you own, exactly?”

“Take a guess.”

“One thousand?”

Kazuya laughs again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Not even close,” he says, and leads you to an elevator off the side. It carries you up to another floor filled with even more sneakers, glowing from the shelves in pristine condition. Kazuya herds you around like an excited puppy, tugging your hand or clutching your waist whenever you fall behind.

“Hey, can I try this on?” You point to a custom pair behind a glass case.

“Foolish woman.” Kazuya huffs. “That’s the wrong size.” He goes to pick a different pair—pink diamond-encrusted, the latest designer model that’s not even on the market yet. It’s gorgeous, and it’s obvious he had it made just for you. Under the chandelier lights, the diamonds shine bright at his hand. Even under his three-piece suit, his chiseled figure cuts a godlike image.

“Aw, babe! You shouldn’t have.” You give a cheeky grin, then Kazuya plants you onto a velvet chair, leaning down close enough that your lips brush ever so slightly. He drops the shoes in your lap and whispers his command.

“Now try that on.”

Kazuya pulls back with his own teasing grin, knowing full well you wanted to close that small distance between you. He sits in the chair across you and beckons with a challenge.

“Well, are you going to show me or not? Don’t keep me waiting,” Kazuya says.

And oh, you’re going to enjoy this as much as he will.

[doryyaaa]

tekken fic catalogue

hi i am listing out the works ive written here for easy access !! bc a lot of them arent showing up on the tags for some reason 🙃

claudio x zafina - postcanon T8 soft romance

mishima brothers (x reader)

reina x fem!reader

T6 jin x fem!reader

jin x reader and kazuya x reader

hwoarang bakery date pt 1 (x reader)

lars x reader (fluff)

kazuya x jun and jin x xiaoyu

i'll be working on more requests over the weekend !! hwoarang bakery date pt 2 is coming and also a few other things (like kazuya sneaker date hehe) look out for em then!!

[doryyaaa]

can you do a claudio x zafina fic maybe? ty in advance 🙏🏼

iirc u mentioned something previously about a soft romance between them? somehow i ended up writing a longer fic than usual haha hope u enjoy!!

i think harada should hire me to write for tekken actually i'll give his ocs some much needed personality ahahha just kidding

Slight spoiler alert for Tekken 8 story mode !

When all’s said and done, Zafina returns home to her desert village without so much as a single goodbye. The world was saved, and with the threat of the Devil gone, Zafina could finally return to the peaceful life she once had. That mostly meant working as the local astrologer, divining the fates of her varied clientele, from curious tourists to faithful neighbors. Between sessions, she’d patrol the temple grounds by herself as well, facing the occasional tomb raiding foes and subsequently dislocating their joints so they could be carted away to prison.

It’s after one such occasion when she sees the familiar face of a man in all white, waiting for her outside the temple.

“I see you’ve cleaned up well here, Zafina.” Claudio Serafino whistles, impressed Zafina’s quick work of the tomb raiders. “I’m relieved to see you are in good health,” he says.

Without saying a word, Zafina walks towards him, dragging one of the thieves by the ankle. Claudio extends a hand in greeting, though Zafina ends up ignoring him and dumps the thief on a cart.

Claudio chuckles. He appears to take no offense and goes on to help Zafina load up the cart.

*

She doesn’t expect him to follow her all the way back to the village.

It’s been a slow day with fewer clients coming in, which unfortunately means that Zafina has no excuse when Claudio excitedly enters her tent and sits down for a one-on-one session.

“I’m surprised,” Zafina drawls. “Isn’t this a blasphemous act for an exorcist such as yourself?” She polishes her set of amulets and looks up to find Claudio’s magnanimous smile.

“Blasphemous? Not at all,” he says, clearly enjoying his seat on the plush cushion. His gaze sweeps curiously over the hanging trinkets and glowing lamps.

“And what of the Sirius Marksmen? Is it wise to abandon them now?”

“The organization is taking a break.” Claudio stretches and cracks his neck. “Just thought I’d do the same.”

“After all that happened, I thought you were dead.”

“Consider me a ghost, then.” He grins, and Zafina resists rolling her eyes out of respect to the sanctity of her tent. She does consider herself a professional. If a person wishes for her to divine their fortune, than she wouldn’t turn them away. Not even a prideful Italian exorcist with a flair for provocation.

Zafina does allow herself to whisper in passing, “Ghosts aren’t nearly as dramatic as you are.” When Claudio huffs in silent protest, she tries her best to stifle a smile.

*

Less surprisingly, Claudio overstays his welcome. After their session, he marvels at her art with new appreciation and asks to sit in on the next client’s session. The said client consents to his request, taken by his dashing looks, which leaves Zafina to simply nod in resignation. No harm in watching. The few times she does look over her shoulder, she notes how Claudio sits perfectly behaved. From time to time, he would get up to inspect her tools and trinkets, though he never touches anything without permission. He keeps his hands firmly to himself. Zafina communes with the spirits, and her crystals glow in an otherworldly light. The client leaves a handsome tip on top of the divination fee. Business as usual.

Through the rest of the day, Zafina continues to observe Claudio. For all his finicky habits, he accepts the unfamiliar street food from a passing neighbor and does not hesitate to take a bite. Even when a piece falls to the ground, he’d blow the sand off and eat it all the same. Unexpected, indeed. Zafina cannot deny that her interest is piqued.

“Goodness, where are my manners?” Claudio catches himself just before taking the last bite. “Would you like a taste as well, Zafina? I believe it’s a type of meat skewer. Quite delicious, if I must say.”

“I don’t take leftovers.” Zafina turns away. Claudio shrugs and pops the last chunk into his mouth. When he goes over to a water barrel for a drink, he pauses to check his reflection in the water. Vain as always. He spends more than five minutes fixing his hair.

For some reason, Zafina feels relieved to see this familiar sight—proof that he is still the same cocky exorcist she’d met not long ago. Though the battle in Italy may have broken him, he is not beyond repair. And if Claudio had come to seek her aid, then she would give it without question, just as he once did for her.

*

“Is that a letter?” Claudio hovers over Zafina’s shoulder as she writes her salutations on a piece of scented paper. “Who are you writing to?”

“Ling Xiaoyu.”

“Ah, how wonderful.”

“You’ve received letters from her too, haven’t you?” Zafina squints up to him, pen in hand. “She tells me you never write back.”

Claudio smiles sheepishly. Zafina waits.

“I just—I never know how to respond,” he says, a slight grimace in his face.

“Still guilty you tried to use her?”

“Well. You could be more delicate with your words, but yes. I am.”

“Ridiculous.” Zafina finishes writing her letter and seals it in an envelope. Then she takes out a blank sheet, puts the pen beside it, and scoots over for Claudio to sit.

“Go on,” Zafina says. “I’ll help you write your letter.”

Claudio blinks down to the seat cushion, brows rising in surprise.  He hesitates, then speaks in a softer tone. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

Zafina nods. “I hate to see you fret over such matters.” She finally gets him to sit with her, shoulder to shoulder. He picks up the pen, and his handwriting is as fancy as it can get, the fine lines as delicate as he is.

*

Late in the night, Zafina walks out of her tent to find a trail of footprints in the sand. Wrapped up in her long hood, she follows the footprints far outside of the village and arrives at the sweeping dunes near the temple. Claudio has sat himself down on a rock to gaze up at the night sky, captivated by the twinkling stars. He does not move when Zafina sits close beside him, and they spend a second together in silence.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Claudio says to her. “Doesn’t matter where you are in the world—the same night sky will always be there to watch over you.”

Shifting in her spot, Zafina inadvertently brushes against the exposed skin of Claudio’s arm. It is cool to the touch; the lonely desert wind has thoroughly chilled him. Zafina tugs on her hood, stopping just short of draping it over his shoulders.

“Why did you really come here, Claudio?”

He smiles down to his lap. “Well, you might find the reason hard to believe….”

“Tell me,” Zafina says, turning to face him head-on. She watches him intently, pinning him place, until he finally looks her in the eye and shows her that charming smile of his.

“I just wanted to spend time with you,” Claudio says.

Zafina’s gaze softens. She could be honest then and admit to herself at least—it is exactly what she hoped to hear, after all.

When Claudio holds his hand out, she grasps it carefully and entwines their fingers. She’ll have to warm him up slow and steady, like building a temple piece by piece. She leans her head on his shoulder, and it is broad enough to support her too.

Alone in the dark of night, they sit together and watch the stars shining bright in the skies.

tip jar

✅ reblog to tumblr

❌ repost to other website

[doryyaaa]

if u like what i write pls do consider tossing some coins my way 😎 everything i do is for the sake of coffee ☕

[doryyaaa]

Can I request a fanfic of Mishima brothers X reader (gender neutral) where reader is really insecure about their looks and the brothers comfort them (separately) 🥺🥺

You can Jin or any other character too if u wanna 🥺🫶🏻 thanks

LEE

It’s the night of a big charity gala, sponsored by none other than world-renowned robotics corporation, Violet Systems. You’ve spent the last five hours shut inside the dressing room all by yourself. The walk-in closet appears as if a tornado had blown through it, but you’ve managed to wear something that doesn’t look absolutely horrendous. Now several pairs of designer shoes lie scattered on the floor. None of these luxury items are yours, of course—your wallet isn’t so thick, and also, such high-class style couldn’t possibly suit you. Which leads to your current predicament.

“Darling?” Lee knocks on the door. “Are you ready yet? It’s almost time for the main event.”

In your rush to put on shoes—the most nondescript pair of boots available—you neglect to respond and knock over an expensive-looking lamp. It doesn’t break, thank the gods.

“Is everything alright in there? Let me know if you need help,” Lee says through the wood, angel that he is.

“Sorry! Everything’s fine. I’m coming out now.”

Your hand pauses over the doorknob. You hope from the bottom of your heart that you look presentable enough to be seen in public with the top fighter and robotics superstar CEO, Lee Chaolan. You brace yourself for the worst, anyway, sucking in a sharp breath as you finally open the door.

And there, Lee stands before you, dressed immaculately in his pale suit. You can’t help shrinking back a little.

“Sorry it took so long. These clothes look kind of weird on me, don’t they?” You laugh weakly, then look up to find Lee staring breathlessly at you.

“You're perfect,” Lee says in a slow, hushed awe. “This color suits you so well, like it was made just for your sake.”

“Oh—you’re too kind,” you say, amazed by his words. Does he know you’d been agonizing over the exact color? Does he know you feel unworthy even now?

“Not at all.” Lee chuckles. “I’m simply expressing my honest thought. You’re gorgeous, my darling, and you deserve to know the fact.”

He lifts his hand to your face and lightly caresses your cheek. He leans in, and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. You just can’t believe your luck.

“Shall we go then, my darling? I’d like to show you off to everyone as soon as possible,” Lee says, offering his arm out to you. “Once they see us, they can only wish they could be worthy of you like I am!” He breaks into a hearty laugh, and you can’t help but smile along with him, your worries left behind you in the chaos of the dressing room.

LARS

It’s that time of year again. The rebel army’s mandatory health checkup. The doctor is taking a while to return from their break, and you sit alone on a stretcher within the infirmary. A thin, blue curtain surrounds you on all four sides. You’ve taken careful steps to ensure you don’t bump into anyone else, but then the curtain opens wide as the person you least expect steps inside the cramped space.

“Ah! My apologies. I shouldn’t have barged in so recklessly—it’s just, I thought the doctor was in here.” Lars sputters in that brief moment, which is quite unlike him, though he recovers quickly and clears his throat to speak again.

“Are you alright?” Lars peers curiously over to you. It’s not like he’s caught you undressed. In fact, you remain fully clothed except for your helmet, which is currently out of reach. That leaves you bare-faced in front of Lars, except you had the quick reflexes to grab the trashcan at your foot and wear it over your head, like an idiot. At least it was empty.

“I’m sorry, Commander.” Your voice echoes from the trashcan. “I’m aware I’m being incredibly rude right now.”

“No need to apologize. This is my fault, anyway,” Lars says, and you can almost hear the guilt in his deep, gentle voice. “But why cover your face?”

“I’m hiding,” you say.

“Why?”

A few seconds pass in silence. You hope that Lars has decided to leave you to stew in shame, but Lars would never abandon you like that. You feel his hands grasp the can.

“Wait—please, Commander, I look rather unsightly right now—”

But he just won’t let go. You resign yourself to your fate.

Slowly, Lars pulls the can off your head. You wish he didn’t have to see you like this. He wouldn’t let any disgust show on his face, but he might put on a troubled expression.

When you muster up the courage to meet his gaze, you find him smiling brightly at you instead.

“Unsightly, you say? How can that be, when you’re the most beautiful person I know?” Lars proceeds to go down on one knee, wrapping your hands in his own. “It’s rare I get to meet with you like this. It would make me terribly sad if I couldn’t see your face,” he says, smooth as always. Without fail, his words pull you out of your hole once more, a light that shines upon your world.

"I understand, Commander."

"Good. I'm really glad to hear that." Lars kisses your hands, and you've never been so glad for the doctor being so late.

KAZUYA

You’re having a terrible day meeting with some old acquaintances. You can’t quite call them your friends, but for appearances' sake, you needed to show up to a scheduled reunion. Less than an hour in, and you remember exactly why you’re not friends with these people. All backhanded compliments or whispered insults made so you ‘accidentally’ overhear. It makes you want to shrivel up and die. Why don’t you dress more elegantly? Why aren’t you thin like a supermodel? Why don’t you work out? Why don’t you have rock-hard abs, smooth skin and glossy hair? Why aren’t you perfect? Why, why, why? Why did you even dare to show your face in the first place?

Then your phone rings and you’re just glad you get to excuse yourself to take the call in private.

As soon as he hears your shaking voice, Kazuya is ready to throw down.

Within five minutes, the helicopter descends outside. Kazuya storms into the reunion and wastes no time trashing the people who hurt you. Just a light tap with his fists. They wouldn’t even need to spend one week in the hospital. He quickly grows bored of tossing weaklings around, though, like he were merely stepping on ants.

The next instance, Kazuya appears by your side, pressing you close to his chest.

“How foolish. You need not concern yourself over trite opinions from the worthless sheep.” Kazuya growls, gripping your waist. “Only listen to me. Think only of me, and what I want from you. I won’t accept anything less.”

Caught breathless, you ask him, “What do you want? Just say the word, Kazuya.” You’re prepared to give everything you’ve got, just for him.

Kazuya smirks. He doesn’t bother saying it aloud. Instead, he pulls you right in for a passionate kiss on the lips like the devil he is.

And lucky for you, he’s on your side.

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