—𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐚𝐫

AHHHH 💖 SUCH A CUTIE PIE😩‼️‼️

@justabitthirsty

Choso vs internet

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ꨄ︎ . ⋆ 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 !

— with kamisato ayato.

ABOUT: you get closer than you could have ever imagined to best friend's older brother.

CONTENT : sub fem reader, virginity loss, slight corruption, oral, praise, soft ayato.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

your best friend's big brother usually kept to himself whenever you were over. you knew about how he took care of ayaka after the loss of their parents, even funding her college degree with his own paycheck.

slowly, he began to take a liking to you. in comparison to the timid demeanour of his sister, ayato found your preppier disposition a welcome change of pace.

the man grew so fond of your presence that he'd allow you to stay with him while ayaka had a class to attend and you had a free morning. it began with simple coffee and cookies, yet turned into you spilling your deepest secrets to him — ayato became somebody you could confide in, almost like another best friend!

when you told him that you hadn't ever been with another man or hadn't even touched yourself in such a manner, he offered to show you how much fun you were missing out on. and of course you agreed, not really knowing any better. you trusted him, and it'd be a lie to say that you didn't find him extremely attractive.

ayato led you back to his room, a california king filling up the majority of the space. everything was pristine, royal blue shades complimenting what were otherwise rather monotone colours. the most notable feature was the floor to ceiling windows that gave you the perfect view of the city below. 

ayato took his time with you. he let you get comfy against his silk pillowcases before kissing you softly, ensuring that you really were okay with what was about to happen.

his large hands pushed up your pretty skirt and he almost groaned at the mere sight of your cute panties. they were white, almost fitting considering that he would be the first to touch you so intimately, and decorated with an adorable little pink bow. ayato noticed the faint wet spot seeping through the material too.

it didn't take him long to discard your underwear. hell, he was already as stiff as ever just from seeing you like this. god, if only you knew that he'd sat on these same sheets and fucked his fist to the thought of your pretty cunt. 

ayato began with butterfly kisses that trailed up your inner thigh, a smirk on his lips from how damn responsive you were to his touch. a peck to your pussy lips you left you making moves to squeeze your thighs together, yet the man placed a firm hand on either one and kept you spread out for him.

slowly, he flattened his tongue and licked a few thick stripes up your drooling cunt, experimenting as to what kind of touches and pressure you liked best. of course, every sensation was new to you, so ayato had to read your body language to the best of his ability.

your whimpers as he sucked on your clit were music to his ears, a symphony that he wished could be stuck in his head for all eternity. your hands gripped his baby blue locks, finger becoming entangled as you grew closer to your first orgasm

"ayato!" you cried out, tugging his head away from you. "p-please stop…"

immediately he pulled back, looking over you for any signs of visible discomfort: yet he found none. "what's wrong, princess?"

you looked down, not wanting to make eye contact with the man whose lips and chin glistened with your juices. "it felt weird…"

"oh, baby..." he cooed, licking his lips and pulling you in for a hug. "a good weird or a bad weird?"

you shrugged, honestly not having an answer.

"i think you were about to cum, love. it's okay, i promise. i've got you. do you want to stop?"

"no!" your response was instant. ayato wanted to tease you, yet bit his sharp tongue so as not to cause you and unnecessary discomfort. so far, he pegged you as somebody who would be much more receptive to praise anyways.

this time, ayato tried something different. instead of throwing you back in at the deep end, he suggested you removing the remainder of your clothing and let him see your pretty tits. and, my god, they were angelic. after playing with your hardened nipples for a moment or two and some reassurance that you wanted to continue, his fingers found their way into your cunt.

he began with a single digit, gently stretching your hole open. he didn't care about any blood that shed, his sheets were dark enough to conceal it. after all, he assumed that it would likely make you a little embarrassed. eventually, he added another and his soft fingers continued to tenderly scissor your wet hole open.

once ayato was content, he removed his own clothing. you couldn't help but gawk at the size of his hard cock, worried about how it was supposed to fit inside of you. the man only hushed you, reassuring you that he knew what he was doing and he'd take care of you. you squirmed as your cunt twitched around his tip, stretching to account for his sizeable girth.

one of his hands came to rest on your hip, tracing illegible shapes into your delicate skin. the other held your much smaller hand, comforting you with occassional swipes of his thumb across the back of your hand.

ayato held this position as he pushed deeper into your sticky cunt, praising you for taking him so fucking well. it felt like he was inhumanely deep inside of your stomach by the time that he was bottomed out. he admiring your wide, innocent eyes peering up at him before whispering: "i'm gonna fuck your pretty pussy, okay, darling?"

he received a few eager nods in response, and that caused a sweet smile to break out on his face. god, he felt so lucky. ayato guided your gaze towards him, carefully turning you to look at him. they eye contact made you clench around him, this new sensation overwhelming you."fuck," he breathed heavily, "you're perfect. i need to move, is that alright, love?"

you were already toeing the line of being so utterly dumb on his cock, drunk on the pleasure of your virgin cunt being used. pride filled ayato as he remembered that only he was fortunate enough to be privy to such an angelic sight.

ayato's words remained saccharine as he dragged his cock along your sloppy walls, thrusting his hips against your own. his deft thumb fiddled with your swollen clit to help ease any discomfort.

your eyes rolling back in your sockets as you grew close once again. you were too dizzy to realise you were about to cum, but he had a sneaking suspicion by the way that you tightened around him. tears graced your lashline as your high washed over you, leaving you all sloppy and messy for your best friend's brother.

ayato halted as you went limp against his pillows, stiff cock bouncing against his navel as he pulled out of you. he coddled you as you came down from such an intense orgasm, caressing your soft skin as you ultimately failed to keep your head from floating away into the clouds above.he continued to pump his own shaft, stroking his cock only a couple of times before he spilled milky rivulets across your lower tummy.

ayato kept his grip on your hand throughout all of it. your hold was tight enough that you wouldn't let him move away to go and grab a washcloth to clean you, instead insisting that he stay by your side for a moment longer. the man assumed that you were just processing things, and allowed himself to spend a few minutes watching over you. shortly you drifted to a state of dreams with ease, soft snores echoing off the walls.

ayato chuckled lightly to himself before making promises to keep you safe and make you feel at home around him, all of which proved to be true by the way you began sneaking into his room late at night every time you stayed over. you'd even visit just for a taste of his cock when ayaka wasn't present, sometimes kneeling under his desk as he worked. ayato felt proud with how addicted you were to him, his touch, his body.

who knew his little sister had such good taste in friends?

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

# day 2. spectrophilia

dilf!fushiguro toji x ghost f!reader

genre. gothic romance, smut

s. father and son move into an antique mansion, ready to start a new life — but the house’s past seems to be waiting for them 

cw. toji is a good dad (megumi is five), oral, praise, pet names, m. solo, size kink, creampie, mating press, fingering, doggy, full nelson, squirting | wc. 6500

tw. characters death, mention of deaths and suicides

kinktober m.list | interactions are appreciated

once it wasn’t in this gloomy condition. it had a clear and wide facade, long windows that were always open, and freshly laundered curtains. the lawn it overlooked was daily tended, the hedges were pruned, and the landlady’s favorite flowers were planted according to the seasons. the woods at the back hid a small lake, and not far away a greenhouse.

now, rose mansion, no longer looked like a kind house. it had taken on the semblance of a place of despair, not meant to be lived in, not fit for people, hope or love. it had become an uppity, alive, evil house.

they arrived toward the end of a mid-june afternoon. they turned into the driveway, and the crunch of the car’s wheels startled the crows clustered in the treetops, which took off cawing around the house.

“what do you think, buddy?” the young man closed the car door behind him before helping a little copy of himself out of the passenger side. “it’s old,” the boy wrinkles his nose, making the man beside him smile.

it wasn’t the first time you’d seen him. a few months earlier he had walked around the halls and rooms of rose mansion with a woman who showed him around the house, step by step, room by room and secret by secret, with amusing talk. he was wearing a dark coat, and his hair was falling over his forehead in a messy way. he looked like he was going through a rough period.

“it’s not old,” toji laughed, taking his child’s hand, “it’s vintage.” he didn’t seem to believe his own words much either. “hey, i know, it’s an ugly, old … old house,” he chuckles opening the front door, “but it’s a new beginning, for us.”

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Pulling Them By Their Collar

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: Thoma, Kaeya, Ayato, Zhongli x gn!reader

Genre/Format: Fluff, comedic, Ayato’s has some angst, Fully written

Word count: 2k words

Warnings: Slightly suggestive but still sfw, some curse words in Kaeya’s, minor self-injury in Ayato’s (clenching fists too hard)

A/N: My half of a collab with the one and only @favoniuscodex <3 go check out her version with Diluc, Itto, and Childe here!!

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Look, but don't touch. [ Harbinger Edition ]

— You're the only one who's allowed to touch him. Likewise, he's the only one that's allowed to touch you.

— Childe, Pantalone, Scaramouche, and Dottore

[Masterlist]

Love Language Series | Touch [ Here ] | Actions | Time | Words | Gifts

This is written before the Sumeru quest. Harbingers are their own warning.

This was a fever dream, incredibly self-indulgent, don't talk to me about this ok. Honestly don't even wanna tag people in this (´。＿。｀)

Tartaglia

Childe is friendly but he always keeps himself at arm's distance from anyone who isn't his family. The kind of guy that acts like he loves everyone but he truly doesn't like anyone. Always polite but never kind. He won't be outwardly hostile if one of the cicin mages decides she wants to try her luck and cuddle up to him, he sort of admires her bravery, but the hardened stare and indifferent response are awkward enough for anyone to bail halfway.

So what a surprise to everyone when it's Childe himself that pulls you into him. It's not a friendly hug either, he quite literally drags you into his embrace as soon as he sees you, locks his arms around your waist, and spins you around. Before he catches himself and gently settles you down and pretends as if he didn't boldly announce to everyone that you're special.

He is a harbinger at the end of the day so any intimate relationships he has need to be hidden lest he puts you in danger. That said, he doesn't do a very good job. He gets agitated and fidgety if he can't hold you, longing gazes in your direction even if someone else is speaking to him about something important. Whether it's shooing specks of dust off your shoulder, a tap on the arm, or the brief brush of your fingers against his whenever he hands something to you. He always finds some way to touch you.

It's always the worst and best time to speak with Childe if you happen to be there. On the upside, Childe is more likely to give his approval to whatever his subordinates ask just so they go away and leave you both alone. On the downside, because physical touch somehow makes Childe drowsy and almost drunk, he's useless.

It wasn't always like this. During your first months as something more than friends, not quite lovers, he kept you at an arm's distance just like everyone else. Only the occasional arm over your shoulder or a hand on the small of your back, just enough to show you that you meant something to him. But over time, those touches began to linger until the dynamic shifted and he began to rely on your touches to keep him sated. On particularly stressful days, he'll pull you aside into his office with a rushed excuse to just hold you in his lap. He's recharging, don't make tease him.

But he's not a selfish lover. If you need comfort or just want to be held, he'll gladly throw his plans out the window just to spend time with you. What's wrong? Did someone upset you? Want me to take care of them? He'll offer anything to make you feel better while you're cuddled up to him and it makes his heart flutter when you say you just want to stay beside him. He has a bad habit of resting his entire weight on top of you if you're both ever lying down. All that muscle is heavy but sometimes it's comfortable until his elbow accidentally digs into your side.

Childe can be polite if someone else wants to touch him but he's baring his teeth at anyone that has the audacity to place their hands on you. If someone bumps into you? He's fine, accidents happen. Someone moves you to the side? Whatever he won't throw a fit over that. He believes in the below-the-shoulder, above-the-waist, hands not included, rule. If anyone touches you, it's the only time when Childe will throw his reputation out the window.

Scaramouche likes to compare him to a dog and he'll gladly growl and bark if that's what it takes for people to get the hint and leave you alone. He'll slide his arms around your waist, tilt your chin up, and without any concern about the scene that this will cause, kisses you deeply. All the while sending the nastiest glare to the person that touched you. Look, don't touch. You're his.

Childe likes to believe that he has self-restraint. He's a soldier first and foremost so he has discipline beaten into his bones. But right now he's close to snapping the pen in his hands and hurling it into that bastard's forehead. He can feel Ekaterina's concerned gaze on him, shifting on her feet nervously, as she struggles to push through her explanation of his assignment quickly. Unfortunately, it's all white noise to Childe as all of his attention is on the cicin mage whose being a bit too friendly for his liking.

"Lord Tartaglia?"

Of course, you don't blink twice at it. He's seen how that loud electro pirate dotes on you and is overly physically affectionate herself. Maybe he should also fight her as well after he's done dealing with this cicin mage.

"Childe?" Ekaterina tries one last time, using a more familiar name to see if that would catch her superior's attention but alas, he was too busy glaring daggers into her college. Ekaterina raises a hand to lightly tap on her superior's shoulder to get his attention but just as her fingertips brush against the fabric of his uniform, Childe's death glare is directed at her. She flinches away from the otherwise easy-going Childe, her mask doing little to hide her startled expression.

"Sorry, sorry, not meant for you," Childe blinks away the hate from his ocean eyes, coming to his senses as he runs a hand through his hair, "What were you saying?"

"There is no need to apologize, Lord Tartaglia, I overstepped," Ekaterina, bless her heart, waves off the sudden aggression but takes a step back. Before she can continue, she overhears you saying goodbye to the mage and your footsteps coming closer. A small surprised noise escapes your chest as Childe pulls you into his arms immediately. If she didn't know Childe, she could almost say his expression was a bit cute with how pouty he was being. Although the look in his eyes says otherwise now that she was just on the receiving end. This seems to be a common occurrence because you just giggle and hug him back just as tightly.

"Please don't harm her. She was just being nice," you mumble into his chest.

"I'll think about it," he says, his eyes never leaving the mage.

Pantalone

On the one hand, the banker always carries this prestige that makes most people stay away in awe. No one wants to get on the wrong side of the man who basically funds the country of Snezhnaya. On the other hand, Pantalone has an ethereal beauty that compels people to come closer and touch. To see if the porcelain skin is real, feel if he's muscular or lean under the heavy fabric, or sneak a peek at what colour the banker's eyes are. It makes you kind of giddy knowing that this man belongs to you. That you know the answer to all these speculations.

You aren't sure when it started happening but at some point, he always ends up sort of mindlessly touching him. Placing a hand on his arm or knee, running your fingers through his hair, or gently rubbing away the stress from his shoulders. There wasn't an ulterior motive, Pantalone was just too handsome that you can't help but touch him just to make sure he's real. He thought you were overexaggerating a bit but he seemed deeply pleased at your confession since it was coming from you personally. That egotistical bastard.

But he always reciprocated your touch. Offering an arm for you to hold onto, brushing the hair out of your face, or rubbing small circles into your hand. Small gestures of affection would occasionally lead to more. The fact that Pantalone of all people let you be this close was something you secretly prided in yourself. You couldn't help but rub his newfound privilege in front of anyone that got too close that this elegant man was yours to hold. Look all you want but you're the only one that gets to touch.

You weren't aware of Pantalone's level of aversion to touch until he almost caused a scene at a gathering. It was meant more for looks and reputation, the occasional business talk, but overall a lax evening. One of the ladies thought it would be a good gesture to place her hand against Pantalone's arm. A bit flirty but innocent enough that the sheer disdain that swirled in Pantalone's eyes made her flinch away surprised. He struck her hand away, the sound carrying through the now-silent ballroom as everyone turned to the sound. You were surprised as well that Pantalone of all people, the image of control and ever-smiling, lips turned down into a repulsed scowl. Your feet quickly moved over to him, quietly excusing the woman for her careless act, and ushering her away before anything escalated. No one spoke of that night.

Ever since then you've always kept your hands firmly glued to your sides lest you feel his anger. If you happened to brush against his finger you would splutter out apologies and scamper away. If you felt his hand hover near you, you always assumed you were in the way and quickly moved aside for him. Overall, you acted as if it was you that was uncomfortable with touch. With each passing day that you fled from his hand, the crease in Pantalone's frown grew deeper.

It comes to a head one night when you get to see how Pantalone's aversion to touch applies to you as well. Occasionally some wealthy noble will host a gala and as one of the Tsaritsa Harbingers, Pantalone will be required to be present for at least one of them. Given his status, most of the attendees flock over to him which leaves poor you to meander about and find something to do with the time. Despite being his lover, you're not privy to what goes on with his work and frankly, the business talk and parties bore you. At least these places have food.

He sees you conversing with a man he knows is from Liyue, hoping to find more investors and trade partners here in Snezhnaya. He's already spoken to the man and rejected his offer so that's most likely why he's speaking to you, the banker's partner to garner sympathy. Although from the looks of things, you don't seem that impressed either. You notice his stare, perhaps his expression betrays him because your eyes grow concerned before giving a polite bow and turning to walk away and to him. If that was all then perhaps tonight wouldn't have ended so badly.

The man grabs your arm painfully enough for you to whimper and that's all Pantalone needs. He doesn't even try to hide his expression behind a smile, his lips set into a straight line. He grabs the man's arm tightly, the leather of his gloves crinkling from the force, and he nearly breaks the man's arm. How dare this inferior social climber put his filthy hands on you. You have to plead with him to let the man go, desperately trying to pry his grip away as the businessman begs the Harbinger on his knees that he didn't know.

Pantalone-

Pantalone is pissed.

You've never seen him this angry before. The lady all those nights ago doesn't even compare close to the anger radiating off him. His fingers flex still as he leads you away into an isolated hallway. You're not even sure if he knows where he's going, completely blindsided by rage. So you quickly step closer and throw your arms around him, stopping him in his tracks as you bury your face into the soft fabric of his suit.

"It's okay. I'm okay," you whisper softly into his back. You're not afraid, he won't get angry, not with you. Never with you. But it still pains you to see him this way. You feel more than you hear his deep sigh before slowly turning around and taking you into his arms. "Thank you. I didn't mean to start anything, you just looked displeased and I got worried. Oh, I'm sorry-"

You quickly move to shuffle out of Pantalone's hold but you can barely get two steps back before his touch grows firm and you're trapped. Despite how strong his hold is, he gently tilts your chin up so you can look into his pretty eyes. He really does have a nice eye colour you think in the back of your mind.

"You've been avoiding me. Care to enlighten me as to why that's the case? Did someone feed your mind with little lies?" Pantalone sounds coy but you can hear the undertone of worry. As if he's done something wrong which you quickly shake your head to.

"W-Well, that incident with the lady from a few weeks ago, the one in the red and black dress, you looked really angry when she touched you so..." you trailed off as your eyes look at anywhere that isn't the man in front of you, nervously twisting the cuff of your sleeve. When you actually hear it back it does sound a bit ridiculous to believe that but you just didn't want to make him uncomfortable. Or make him act a certain way just because you liked physical touch or to uphold appearances.

"And you thought you were comparable to people like that? That I would allow special treatment just because you were mine? That I would reciprocate to anyone but you?"

You fumble a bit at how honest his words are, searching for some way to justify yourself but at the end of the day, you'll knock your head against the wall for how stupid your logic is. So you stand on your tip toes and reach hesitantly up towards his face. Pantalone's face reminds neutral but he slowly leans into his touch, his muscles finally relaxing just by your touch.

Scaramouche

How the hell he tolerates you is anyone's guess. How the hell you tolerate him is Celestia's guess. He has the worst attitude, is quick to anger, flaunts his authority wherever he goes, and is overall a terrible person to be around. Yet every time he looks over his shoulder, you're always one step away from kicking at his heels. Which you have accidentally done before and somehow survived so he must like you a smidge. You tell him it's because it's out of spite that you're still here and spite is a powerful feeling. He of all people should know.

Scaramouche despises anyone being within his personal space, which is already a pretty big range, so the idea of someone touching him is repulsive to him. If he somehow was in danger and someone touched him in order to save his life, he would probably throw a fit and shock them. Their only reward is that he doesn't kill them. It's not like he has to worry too much, no one really wants to be in his presence longer than they have to and any admirers are quickly turned off within the first couple of seconds. Which makes it all the more baffling that you still hang around him and test just how far you can poke his limits.

The first time you touched him was by accident. Someone had bumped into you causing you to fall into Scaramouche. Luckily for you, you managed to put your hands out first and brace yourself against the wall but you had successfully caged the Balladeer between your arms. If you weren't currently fearing for your life you might have laughed at the horrified expression on the Harbinger's face. The only reason you survived that day was that Tartaglia chose that exact moment to waltz in and frankly, he was a far bigger headache than you were.

He's not sure how you managed to worm your warm into his cold non-existent heart but at some point, he got used to your presence in his life. A few words to take care of himself, extra paperwork being filled, or shooing away other soldiers so he could have space. All of these acts of kindness were met with half-baked insults and suspicious looks. Every time he asked you why the hell you were acting like he was some helpless doll you always answered the same, you just felt like it and he looked like he kinda needed it. Which was so baffling to him that you managed to walk away with your head intact.

It started off with small things. Like you're both feral cats that are trying to co-exist in the same alleyway. You always announce your presence, give him enough time to leave, and your touch is barely there. You never do anything close to intimate, never hold his hand or hold his face, and he never reciprocates ever. Although it speaks volumes when he doesn't push you away ever. You're always nearby, sitting close, and you both exist contently.

But just like a feral cat, with enough time and love, even they will begin to grow comfortable and domesticated. The look on his subordinate's face was hilarious when little old you waltzed over to the sixth harbinger, plopped down into his personal space, and literally sprawled yourself over his lap to see what he was looking at. Just to one-up the absurdness, Scaramouche didn't seem bothered in the slightest, only calling you an idiot for not being able to read the document that was right in his hands.

Although there are some downsides to being so close to Scaramouche. He's possessive with the power the enforce his pride. You have to constantly scold him that he can't go frying anyone that comes within two feet of you. It's hardly efficient and it's annoying having to scream just to know what time it is.

The you from years ago would have balked at how casual you were speaking with the infamous Balladeer.

"All I'm saying is you sound like a possessive maniac," you huff, your arms crossing over your chest as you frown down at the sitting man. You doubt he's even paying attention to you because if he isn't throwing spite around then he's filtering you out of his mind. Scaramouche barely acknowledges your words, still fiddling around with the Electro Archon's gnosis. It gives off faint sparks of electro every time he rolls it over his fingers but he doesn't give any signs of pain. Maybe because he's an electro-user? Either way, he's obviously not listening to you. You let out a loud sigh before shrugging and turning on your heel to walk back into the camp. Suddenly, his hand shoots out and latches onto your wrist and he's yanking you down. The you from years ago would have fainted seeing you sprawled over your superior's lap. As your vision tilts to the sky you can't help but think that for such a small body, he sure has a lot of strength. He wears a bored expression, his other hand is cradling his head while his elbow is on his knee, before a nasty smirk makes its way over his face.

"Yeah? So what?" Scaramouch says, his hand stopping to firmly hold the gnosis, though now one of his hands is now settled on your hip. You blink. Huh, you...weren't exactly expecting the ever-prideful Balladeer to blatantly admit that.

"Well, the "what" is that it makes it incredibly inconvenient to talk to anyone. Everyone avoids me like the plague because their scared you're doing to kick down their door and attack them," you pout, grumpily adjusting your head to lay on his knee, "Also you need to eat more. You make a horrible headrest."

"That's fine. You won't need anyone else," he says dismissively.

You open your mouth to say something but the look in his eyes makes you falter. He's serious. A mixture of a past memory, the present moment of you both together, and a far-off dream all dance in his eyes. It's a look you've never seen before on Scaramouche's face despite how long you've worked under him and you can't help but be mesmerized by it. It's likely the first and last time you'll ever see him be honest. But it's quickly over as his eyes morph into snarky glee, his lips pulling into a mean grin.

"You look stupid."

Il Dottore

People are downright terrified to even be in the same room as the infamous doctor. There's never a safe moment and anyone could be the next test subject depending on his mood. It doesn't matter who it is, even his own segments, if someone touches him that means they've just volunteered to be his next experiment. It's suffocating when Dottore is out and not locked in his lab because everyone need's to be hyperaware of where the doctor is located in the room. So to say that Dottore tolerates you is a massive understatement.

He actually quite likes to parade you around, almost like you're his newest addition to his collection. Touch isn't a problem for him if he's the one initiating it given how often he's dragging you around like you're some pet. He's not gentle in the slightest, nearly pulling your arm out in his crazed rush to show you his newest creation. You would joke and say that in moments like these, he's the one that acts like the pet. Too excited to show its owner its newest achievements. But you have a sliver of sanity in your mind so you keep your mouth shut.

Every moment with Dottore is a warped sense of time. You've been with the Doctor for a long time, before he became a Harbinger, and you don't know how your relationship progressed to this stage. You're walking on a tightrope of old colleges that are too intertwined with history to be separated or co-dependent individuals that need death to finally leave each other. So when he touches you softly, affectionally, you stumble and fall off your rope. The mad doctor laughing from above, arms still outstretched from where he's pushed you.

Half of it is madness, and half of it is out of genuine love. Although, to Dottore, madness and love are the same things. His acts of affection are spontaneous and equally as fleeting. One second he's rattling off medical terms and theories, pauses in his rant just to give you a deep kiss no matter who's around you to witness the act, and proceeds as if nothing happens. That's not to say you don't enjoy it when he decides to reward you, you just wished it wasn't in front of so many people. You suspect he does it on purpose.

There's no softness or quiet time aside from the very very few and far between moments Dottore decides to indulge you. He's a busy man, his mind only built for progress, and he has better things to do than to play pretend. But for you, the one who forcibly carved space into his heart, he can make arrangements. Only for a short while. Some days he may hold you as if you'll shatter if he squeezes any harder, other days he'll push your hair away from your eyes quietly, and one day he kisses you as if you're something more.

Unlike Dottore, you don't have an intimidating reputation. People can touch you if they want to. It makes you a bit happy when Childe will pat you on the back or ruffle your hair cheekily. He's also one of the few who can get away with it as well since Dottore can't physically harm him for touching you since he's a fellow Harbinger. Besides, people speak with their eyes more. Since that doesn't qualify as anyone touching you, Dottore won't do anything. So they stare.

They stare at how the Harbinger holds you in a special place. You aren't remarkable, you're the same as the rest of them. Yet you're untouchable and invincible from the man who can change their entire lives. Mistakes occur frequently when Dottore is in the room, the slip of a finger because everyone is too focused on staying out of the Doctor's way. You get to stand beside someone like that.

It's been a hard day. A very hard day. You're absolutely exhausted and ready to curl up into a ball as soon as you get to your room. You aren't even sure what exactly happened. One second you were doing your job and the next your head was on the ground with a pulsing pain on your right cheek. It's not unusual for patients to lash out but under those circumstances, they don't have anything to do with you intimately. You know what people think about your relationship with Dottore. What people who only glimpse into the relationship you have with him think. Usually, they stay silent, only judging you with their eyes but always silent. That is until nearly 10 minutes ago.

"You're late."

You barely react when you hear his voice. Of course, it's him. God, what bad timing. He's the last person you want to see right now, especially in this state. You only give him a nod and mumbled out apologies, stumbling over your feet like a newborn lamb when his hand latches onto your wrist to drag you off again. You think you might have his fingerprints as bruises now. Another thing people can mistakenly think about your relationship. You only know you're crying when you hear the splatter of your tears against the tiled floors and Dottore's footsteps come to a halt. His grip on you has gotten tighter.

You're startled out of your wallowing when warm hands cup your face, brushing your tears away. His gloves are off. When did he take them off? Dottore simply looks at you as you silently cry. You're too tired to apologize, too tired to break down in sobs. Your arms hang uselessly at your sides but you close your eyes and lean into his touch.

"Give me their name."

He whispers it softly. You think back at the girl that struck you. You think she's new, she has to be. You know that if you say her name, you won't see her tomorrow. But you're too tired right now. So with no hesitation, you volunteer her to become the next test subject.

---

YOU KNOW ITS GOOD WHEN IT FEELS LIKE YOU'RE READING A LITERAL DRAMA ISTG BESTIE GOT ALL THE POINTS TO MAKE A GOOD DRAMA THAT HAS BALANCED POINT AND PLOT I- 👏👏👏👏🙌🙌🙌🙌👏✨✨😩🤌✨✨✨✨✨

lights, camera, action!

premise. in which you get yourself involved in a lot of unscripted drama. (genshin celebrity au.)

includes. xiao, childe, albedo, ayato, scaramouche, thoma & kazuha.

next episode. watch here.

note. i surprised myself with how much plot this actually has.

零 ; you, the typecasted “passerby a”

the path to stardom is an arduous journey, but you've already abandoned your dreams not even halfway down the road.

you are far from the fresh newbie you once were. maybe you hoped to be famous at some point, your name sung in ardent praises and joint with stellar performances, but you've never received major roles that strayed from “classmate b” or “the protagonist's best friend” who only ever appears to give advice.

the closest you've been to getting a main character role is being part of the second pairing of a cheesy romance drama that never became a hit, a series with a generic plot and a bland cast of no name actors.

but you can't deny the spark of hope lighting your heart when you receive word of an audition for an upcoming drama adaptation of a well-loved webtoon series, a series you are an avid fan of. it's a murder mystery following a genius detective striving to solve a serial killings cold case, with snippets of romance and the occasional comedy, grim as the premise may be.

once the drama adaptation was confirmed, it quickly became a hot topic; fans are anticipating the casting and filming crew, expecting nothing less of perfection to honor the brilliant source material. by all accounts, it's big news, and snagging even a minor role would definitely earn you more recognition.

if you're chosen to act as the victim in the first murder, you would already be beyond satisfied—being part of such a masterpiece is enough to make you overjoyed. you don't have too high hopes but there's no harm in trying for the audition, right?

yes. no harm at all.

that's if you don't count the brain damage you suffered when your head slammed against the wall from complete shock as you received an e-mail from the staff confirming your admittance to the project.

as the protagonist's love interest, no less—a journalist investigating the serial murders to enact revenge on their younger brother's stead, the third victim in the killings.

一 ; xiao, the celebrity crush

acting practice is generally considered a casual affair in every project you've taken on, yet you couldn't help but spend hours trying to make yourself look presentable (and avoid looking like a beggar compared to your shining idols when you stand side by side). you may be a tad bit overdressed, but you'd hate to make a fool out of yourself on day one.

except that is exactly what you do. because you're a walking disaster.

in your defense, it's not even your fault! the moment you step foot in the venue, you're ushered by the staff to a row of waiting rooms... without any nameplates attached by the doors and no indication of where you're supposed to go. left with no other choice, you mentally count eeny meeny miny moe and surge forward for the chosen room.

you can't tell if you're tremendously lucky or the most unfortunate person on earth, but you come face to face with a person you never thought you'd see in the flesh.

the thing is, the staff never informed you of your future colleagues. the casting is a well-kept secret, even from the actors themselves, to prevent information leaks to the media before the official announcement.

you really wish you had time to prepare yourself before you had to meet xiao, though.

he's lounging by the sofa, curls of dark hair sprawled on the cushions. his face is obscured by an eye mask, fashioned in a cute design you wouldn't expect him to take an interest in at all. if you took a picture of him right now and printed them as merchandise, you're sure they'll sell like hotcakes, but a selfish part of you wants to keep this sight to yourself.

yes, because... because you've been crushing on him since forever!

you've seen his growth as an actor as far back as five years ago, when he only just started his career! he made the perfect mysterious pretty boy male lead, and the romance film he starred in was such a good classic! but he didn't get typecasted, no no. he went beyond his pretty boy persona to work in other productions, where he acted as the crazed antagonist in a horror movie. that, too, eventually became a classic film for any horror movie fan. his murderous glare is just too damn scary!

he's excellent in action-packed movies as well, there's never a need for stunt doubles with him. you've seen his behind the scene clips, and they're just awesome. he doesn't speak much in interviews, his replies clipped and hardly substantial, but you try to catch each piece of precious footage.

oh fuck i shouldn't be here. you snap back to your senses and reach for the doorknob, but the creaking sound of the door prompts xiao to twitch.

a pale hand drags down the eye mask to his chin, and his dazed golden eyes pin you in place.

“...who are you?”

it's a simple question, but it's like you're trying to prove your innocence to court. you begin to ramble, introducing yourself in a series of stutters, and explaining how you got to his room. you insist you aren't there to peep on him and it was a complete accident.

“...so you entered my room by mistake,” xiao summarizes your ten paragraphs-worth of explanation into a single concise sentence. he doesn't look angry, but doesn't look pleased by your presence either. “it's fine. i could guess the staff was too busy to show you your room.” he sits up properly, fixing his hair messy from his nap. “you're the journalist, right? i look forward to working with you.”

rather than a job, filming feels more like a reward. you get to see xiao everyday, get to talk to xiao even if it's just you commenting on the weather, get to eat with him in lunch breaks (you're seven seats away from him but that counts, right?) and get to act alongside him-

and xiao is the second male lead. you get to act romantic scenes with him. you get to act lovey-dovey with xiao in a police uniform because he's a policeman in this show.

each brush of your hands together sends your heart racing in a speed too fast to be healthy, but as an actor, you're expected to keep your composure and deliver your lines properly.

(the makeup artist is always wondering why you look so red on screen when she swears she didn't put much blush on you, though.)

“don't you need to ask something of me?”

you blink innocently as you peel off the heavy costume, the last scene for the day finally wrapped up. xiao must be feeling hot too because he's also wearing a huge coat in the middle of summer—his face is beet red.

“ask you for something...?” your cheeks burn bright. “oh no, was i too obvious?”

xiao awkwardly looks away. “you could say that.”

how mortifying! you fan your face, hoping your makeup isn't too melted. you already feel like an idiot, no need to look like one.

but xiao already thinks you're stupid. no turning back now.

“o... okay... since the cat is out of the bag, then...” you pull out a pen and a piece of paper, holding it out to him. “please give me your autograph!”

“...what.”

“i've been your fan for the last five years! i don't know who ratted me out, actually i'm about 87% sure it's childe, but since you know-”

“wait- what? five years?”

“.........if that's not what you're talking about, then what is?”

“no, i thought you wanted me to ask me ou-”

he seals his lips at the most crucial moment, horrified at himself. “sorry. i'll ask you another time.”

... and then he walks away. just like that.

“xiao, what about my autograph?!”

“forget it!”

“why all of a sudden?!”

二 ; childe, the scandal magnet

notorious for the massive number of scandals under his belt, it's a surprise to find ajax (with a stage name of childe) in the set of this major production. you're advised by your manager to steer clear of him and avoid unnecessary contact to prevent sullying your reputation, but you can't deny his acting prowess—he shines on the stage, a performance you can't tear your eyes away from.

he's incredibly versatile, capable of taking on any role and absorbing the character to make it come to life, almost as if he is its incarnation.

it starts as a simple game before actual practice, each actor asked to draw lots from pieces of paper scribbled with different roles, and given an accompanying script to base off of.

everyone laughs when childe, ironically enough, draws the “womanizer who cheats on his lover.”

unfortunately, you couldn't laugh along with them because you picked the “lover” role. your incredible (read: atrocious) luck astounds you.

it goes just about as well as everyone expects it. childe, seemingly in his element, plays the part of a perfect scumbag. it's easy to hate him like this, all flamboyant gestures and empty promises of “you are my one and only.” his performance inspires you to try harder, and so you raise your voice, your passionate screams of indignance almost sounding heart-felt, like you truly are experiencing a severe betrayal.

when childe sweeps you into his arms, whispering platitudes dripping with honey, you're nearly fooled into forgiving him.

it's hard to get yourself out of the role when the director ends the scene, satisfied with the act. childe's expression returns to its usual lazy grin, a far cry from the smug smirk prior, and he pats your head to wake you up. “nice work. i really felt like i was getting scolded by an angry girlfriend.”

dazzled by his brilliance, you barely have enough coherence to return the compliment.

your awe doubles when he performs his next act.

much to xiao's horror, he picks the “dying younger brother” role, a direct accompaniment to childe's “grieving older brother.” they make an... interesting pair, but they're also professionals, and the scene they perform almost makes you weep real tears.

xiao lays limp on the floor like a lifeless doll, and childe cradles him to his chest, delivering his lines with sobs and cries that sound too real to be an act. his heart-wrenching wails bounce from the walls, going straight to strike your heart. his voice cuts through the air, demanding your attention, as if telling you to keep your eyes on him and to never look away.

it's nothing like the sleazebag character he was playing twenty minutes ago, and you have to remind yourself your scripts are only given once you've drawn lots; he had a maximum of five minutes to read through it, process the information, decide how to deliver his lines, and visualize himself performing it in the best way possible.

like this, he doesn't look at all like the scandalous man everyone makes him out to be. he's just an earnest man who's good at pretending to be someone else.

it's terrifying to think about. did he ever act like his true self when the cameras stopped rolling, then? was he just playing the part of a “good co-worker” when he was talking to you earlier? was the whole “scandalous womanizer” image something he set up for himself? a reputation he deliberately made to attract the media's attention? it isn't unusual for actors to cause drama as a publicity stunt, after all.

no, that doesn't make sense. no matter how desperate, nobody would like bad rumors circulating about them. as much as your name is spread around, it also goes hand in hand with distasteful gossip. childe is plenty famous, even before the scandals began popping up, so he never really needed them and they would only further ruin his image...

...on the contrary, if there's anyone getting famous from those scandals, it's...

...the girls he supposedly hooked up with?

rather than making those scandals for fame, doesn't it make more sense if those girls fabricated stories and took advantage of his reputation?

it's no secret that meddlesome paparazzi and hardcore fans obsessively pry into celebrities' personal lives. if they sniff a hint of dating scandals, they don't stop digging. furthermore, once the media releases information to the public, people will take it as fact. in actuality, it doesn't matter what's true or not; what the public wants to believe becomes the “truth.”

if the people deemed it plausible, if they thought “childe would definitely do something like this, so of course if the girl says they hooked up in the dressing room, they did”...

...even if childe denied those claims, nobody would believe him. not even you. you didn't think about it until now. in fact, at the very beginning, you already had assumptions about him, devouring the media's lies.

childe laughs when you apologize to him. it was certainly a shock when you suddenly knocked on his door, then the instance he opened it, you began to bow deeply, nearly slamming your forehead to his chest.

“i'm used to it, don't worry.” he smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “you were so stiff around me, it was pretty obvious what you thought of me. but you didn't have to apologize.”

“no, i do! i was being disrespectful!” you insist, taking him by surprise when you grab the lapels of his jacket. “you're nothing like what they say! i'm sure you've been through a lot just because everyone keeps saying whatever they want, without thinking of your feelings... and everyone laughed that one time we played the acting game... i... i can't take back the time i've spent being suspicious of you, but i want to change that!” you stare directly at his widened eyes, determined. “i want to know you better, ajax!”

the use of his real name stuns him and for a moment, all he can do is gape at you.

then he narrows his eyes, his lips shaping to a firm line, and he tugs you inside the room.

a yelp unwittingly escapes your mouth when you're pressed against the door, his arms caging either side of you. his expression is unfamiliar now, unlike anything you've ever seen before; uncharacteristically stern, harsher around the edges, spiteful gaze boring holes into your skull.

“you want to know me better... some pretty words you just said. what do you actually want?”

your breath hitches when his hand caresses your cheek, but the striking glare he's giving you makes you think he wants to sink his nails deep into your skin instead.

“this isn't the first time someone tried to approach me, you know. what, you want to be friends with me? you're going to ask if i can invite you to my house? then you're going to tell people how i took advantage of you while you were sleeping?”

“what- no! of course not!” you yell, face heating up just by the thought of it. “nevermind lying to the media, i don't have the guts to sleep over a guy's house i barely even know!”

his expression falls to a deadpan. “oh. my bad. you're quite pure, aren't you. of course you wouldn't.”

“that's what makes you believe me?!”

the arms caging you falls to his sides as he walks away, leaving you dumfounded. “right, right, sorry for scaring you. can't you let me off easy? it's pretty hard to trust someone when you're in my position. if i treat you to dinner, will you forgive me?”

“i... i came here with good intentions... now i feel as though i was harassed...”

his usual smile falls on his face, like he's a completely different person from the man who trapped you just seconds prior. “what do you think about seafood? i'll let you eat as many crabs as you like. i really am sorry, promise. if you were saying the truth earlier, then i'd be glad to know you better too, [name].”

you give him a look. “...if they saw us entering a restaurant together, wouldn't that attract rumors?”

“hm? is everyone so narrow-minded they think anyone who eats together is in an illicit relationship?”

the answer is no, so you eat as much crabs and shrimp as you want to your heart's content. you're getting your food's worth for that fright he caused earlier. childe isn't complaining anyway, only impressed with how much dishes you're practically inhaling.

in any case, it isn't a date. there is no ambience or heart-pounding romance of any sort. not when you're overtly taking advantage of his money and childe's taking ugly pictures of you mid-bite.

but then, of course, the media takes note of it; the topic of your outing is brought up at an interview, to which you fret and panic because you were never popular enough to be interviewed before, and they're asking if you're fucking childe, of all things-

“what are you talking about?” childe pops up behind you, unhelpfully wrapping an arm around your shoulders as if he wants to add fuel to the fire. he chuckles, tilting your chin to lean closer to his face. “i'm just pursuing [name]. nothing's happened yet. unless [name] wants to...”

you take it back. he's definitely at fault for having this many scandals.

三 ; albedo, the male lead

the first day of rehearsals, the protagonist of the drama isn't even there.

to your astonishment, nobody complains about it. twenty minutes into practice (most scenes skipped due to the protagonist's absence), the director gets a call and excuses himself outside. less than a minute after, he informs everyone the star of the show won't be able to make it.

the actors trade unsure looks, wondering what the hell is going on, but the rest of the staff remain unfazed. the director notices and explains, “it's albedo. his busy schedule can't be helped. his manager called me to let me know his flight got delayed.”

and then it makes much more sense.

albedo is well-renowned in the film industry, an extraordinary talent who first came into showbiz three years ago. it's not at all a long time, but it's long enough for him to receive countless awards and bountiful movie offers—he was just born for the stage. if anything, this drama is lucky to have him in it, not the other way around. a late arrival for a rehearsal is nothing. he could probably disappear for two months without telling anybody and when he comes back, the director would beg him to act for the drama for twice the pay. (an exaggeration, but you get the point.)

and... you're expected to partner with him? you? a speck of dust compared to the sun that is albedo? you have to match his brilliance and not look like a turd beside him on screen? you have to be equals with him and- and you actually get to- you get to hold hands with him, kiss him, and- those couple stuff? everything? his fans would murder you if your mother doesn't kill you first! you know she likes his movies a lot!

the fourth day of rehearsals, he finally comes to the set. not with an air of arrogance or excessive pride. he just exudes confidence, strutting to the room in an elegant poise you can't hope to replicate. he gives his sincere apologies for the inconvenience to the staff, all polite bows and offer of recompense.

“but there's no reason to worry,” he declares, gaze steely. “i won't make any more trouble for you.”

he refuses when the director suggests taking it slowly and instead goes straight to practice. but it doesn't look like he needs any of it at all.

as if he's been here all along, he falls into place with the other actors, not a single awkward pause in their scripted conversations and everything smooth sailing. he delivers a flawless performance, like the cameras are already rolling and he's practiced for tens of thousands of times already, not read through a portion of the script in the car ride towards the set.

there is one thing he's struggling with, however.

“you're too stiff with each other,” the acting coach comments, frowning slightly at the two of you and cutting the scene short. “rather than bickering, it's like you're actually arguing, and that's not what we want to portray.”

you blink, exchanging a look with albedo, and look down at his collar you're still gripping.

maybe you do look like you're trying to strangle him instead of pulling him closer to your face for some good ol' sexual tension.

originally, the characters you play didn't get along well in the beginning of the webtoon; the genius detective didn't like to rely on others, conceited enough to believe he can solve the case on his own, hence seeing the journalist as a hindrance since they kept pestering him to let them help him, and he help them in turn so they could work together. the detective didn't deem them “useful” for the investigation, and it was only much later that he (begrudgingly) admitted the journalist can be helpful... sometimes. thus officially starting their partnership for the investigation, and later on, partners in the romantic sense.

there were quite a lot of bickering scenes before the actual romance commenced, and you're struggling with finding a delicate balance to that—where exactly do you draw the line between petty squabbles and severe disputes? how do you show the chemistry between these two characters while butting heads in every instance? the enemies to lovers trope is harder to act than it seems.

“try to get familiar,” the director suggests. “you're stiff because you don't know each other well. you're too shy to touch or get closer. why not leave early and go on a little date by yourselves to fix that?”

“is that really okay...?” you say, unsure. besides being hesitant to leave earlier than the rest, you're also nervous to be alone with your co-actor.

“if he says it's fine, then it's fine.” albedo shrugs, starting to walk towards the dressing room and tugging you along. “but if we're going outside, we should wear disguises. it's also fine if we borrow some of your clothes, right?”

“of course, of course~” the director indulges him. “have fun, kiddos.”

as it turns out, albedo is a master of disguise. he doesn't even have a wig or anything but you almost can't recognize him clad in casual attire. he also almost looks like a stylist while figuring out what outfit to give you, and you're left in awe when you look at yourself in the mirror wearing clothes you wouldn't normally pick out yourself but they look really, really good on you, and they do a good job changing your image too. not that you think anybody would recognize you anyway, unpopular and all.

“where do you want to go?” you trail after him on the way to the bus station, always a step or two behind. albedo makes a humming noise, subtly slowing his pace to match your strides.

“why not just go wherever our feet takes us?” he pipes up. “as long as it's not teeming with people, of course.”

so with zero preparation at all, you do just that. you stop by a bookstore, with you showing him around the comics section and him adamantly insisting the plain hard-cover literature he's picking up is a thrilling epic that will definitely pique your interest, [name] stop yawning-

you pay a visit to the arcade, where you find albedo is clumsy with his feet and can't play dance dance revolution to save his life, but also unnecessarily adept with claw machines because he has a little sister who loves getting stuffed toys. you compete over who gets the most points in the basketball game to decide who pays for dinner, end up in a tie, and move on to a zombie shooting game. you win by a narrow margin and albedo tells you so, but you point a finger at the results and tell him to cough up the cash. then you play around in the photo booth using the craziest filters, and you take the liberty of pasting stickers everywhere.

dinner is a simple affair. albedo looks ready to go to some michelin star establishment but you introduce him to a sushi restaurant that's relatively cheap. he's impressed by the way you swipe at the conveyor belt so quickly. okay, so you may look like an utter glutton right now, but it's fine. not the first time you embarrassed yourself in front of a co-actor.

lastly, you stop by an ice cream shop to get gelato. your appetite is “awe-inspiring,” as albedo put it, but you argue there's always room for dessert.

“will this actually help us, though...?” you sigh, eating a spoonful of gelato. “i don't understand the difference between bickering and arguing.”

“we've done it the whole day,” albedo reminds you, using a tissue to clean the residue of cream on your cheek. “we'll do just fine.”

you stare at him in disbelief. “...is this also one of your habits from taking care of your sister?”

“ah. you could say that.”

just as albedo said, filming goes a lot more smoothly. the playful air is a huge improvement compared to last time when they said you looked ready to beat him to submission. the romantic tidbits are coming along well, too, spun between action-packed scenes where you're pressed against albedo in a slim locker to hide from the murderer lurking nearby or sweet slice of life moments outside of the investigation.

at last, the confession scene is upon you. just a while back, the two main characters got into a full-blown argument; the detective was irritated by the lack of progress in the investigation, and deduced his feelings were distracting him. he decided to keep the journalist at arm's length, never allowing them to go close. of course, they didn't react well to this, and so they pester him again, but the argument became heated and it eventually peaked to “you're an inconvenience to me!” which led them to separate ways.

the journalist, desperate to solve the case on their own, approached people who seemed to be in the know. they were nearly pulled into bed by an attractive yet suspicious man, who's genuinely interested in the journalist romantically and used intel on their younger brother's murder as leverage, but they get interrupted by the detective pounding on the door.

he dragged the journalist out, thoroughly upset at the notion of selling themself, but they deny the accusations and claim they were tricked.

the argument stretched longer, the both of them airing out everything they dislike about the other, but the detective accidentally slipped and confessed his real feelings. the journalist, who never thought of him that way, was frozen on the spot.

it's a long scene requiring much preparation. aside from the amount of lines you have to memorize, there's also a hotel suite you have to borrow for the shoot, the cameras they need to set for the “dragging” scene that has a lot of movement, the really awkward half-bedroom scene you have to act with your co-actor, and the fact that you have to take the confession scene before the sun completely set.

it's truly a busy day. anxiety plagued you the moment you came out of the makeup room, knowing what comes next.

but it's a job, and one especially you couldn't afford to slack on. the kind-of-but-not-really-bedroom scene goes without a hitch, but albedo interrupts you a tad bit too early; the top of your shirt is barely unbuttoned but he's already storming in, ripping you out of the other man's grasp.

the director doesn't chide him for it however, and he drags you out of the hotel as planned. you're a bit frazzled by the suddenness of it all, clothes still rumpled, but it adds on to your acting and your stuttering questions make the scene look more natural.

albedo's fury seeing you in such a disheveled state seems almost genuine, too.

“why are you acting like this?!” you pull your wrist away in an effort to make him let go, as described in the script, but albedo refuses to. an improvisation, perhaps? but now of all times...? “you didn't care about me before! are you trying to be nice now? didn't you say you were sick of putting up with me? you hated me for being stupid, right? guess what, then! i was stupid enough to get almost taken advantage of! if you're just going to lecture me, let go. i don't want to hear any of it. i already know how much of a fool i am.”

you're supposed to back away now, but he doesn't let you do that either. for one step backward, he takes two forward, nose nearly brushing with yours in the close proximity. your face heats up in a combination of confusion and embarrassment, your ears barely registering his lines.

“...never listen to me. you always go off on your own and i still think you're a reckless idiot. you're noisy and brash and you annoy me to no end,” he says in one breath, staring deeply into your eyes. “but seeing you with someone else annoys me even more. to the point i'd abandon everything just to get you back.”

“w...” your throat is incredibly dry. “why would you...”

“whether i like it or not, you've become important to me. i love your stupid laugh and your stupid smile. i love the way you look at me, and i don't want you to look at anyone else. you drive me crazy when you put yourself in danger because i don't want to lose you. i want you so badly that i want you to only think about me, spend time only with me, only love me. i-”

you're fairly certain this is nowhere near his lines in the script.

“i love you so much that it scares me.” his voice trembles as his hand lifts to cup your face, something that finally bears semblance to the original scene. “it was wrong of me to say those horrible things. not just last time. i've been terrible to you, and no amount of apologies can make up for it. but i ask only one more chance.”

his finger hovers at the corner of your lip.

“[name], won't you only look at me?”

you gape like a fish out of water, unable to reply. you're trying to remember your lines, flipping through the mental script in your head, but the director's “cut!” pulls you back to reality.

albedo blinks, getting himself out of the role, and he lets go of you reluctantly, the heat of his fingers lingering on your skin.

“the scene was good, but you said the wrong name.” the director laughs. “it's alright. we can still shoot where we last left off. return to your positions.”

as told, you go back to your previous position. you give a furtive glance at albedo, whose cheeks flare in humiliation. he's probably never done such a rookie mistake before. there's no reason to be that flustered about it; you've made the same error plenty of times.

“i apologize. i won't do it again next time.”

(if he's going to confess, the least he can do is make his own lines for the occasion.)

next episode ; watch here. preview →

四 ; ayato, the cannon fodder

五 ; scaramouche, the best friend

六 ; thoma, the former male lead

七 ; kazuha, ???

---

reminiscence.

fem! reader, scara and nahida would act like siblings change my mind, includes sumeru archon quest spoilers!

“would you mind telling me more about [name]?”

scaramouche had to make sure he was hearing things correctly.

“excuse me?”

“[name]. i want to know more about her.”

the tiny god of wisdom gently rocks back and forth on her makeshift swing created by her control over dendro—watching over the city of sumeru with soft eyes whilst the former harbinger stares daggers onto her back of her head.

a sigh escapes the man's lips from behind her, a telltale sign of his incoming exasperation, “you read my mind without my permission again? i remember clearly telling you to cut it out, didn't i?” his annoyance doesn't come unnoticed by the observant child.

“it was quite improper of me to do so, but i'm the god of wisdom. i actively seek out knowledge, and such—i couldn't resist the temptation of peering onto a mind as eccentric as yours.” her tone remains understanding of his irritation, yet all the more wise in explaining her unwarranted prying.

the dark-haired male behind her hums, leaning back onto the tree as he shuts his eyes closed, seemingly given up on voicing his displeasure towards the archon.

“tell me what you know so i'll know where to start.”

his immediate compliance makes the curious child turn her head his way, staring at him with wide eyes.

“you...” nahida trails off as she smiles in relief, quickly reminding herself to not comment on his chosen act of opening up as he might get impatient and dismiss the subject altogether.

the distant chatter of her people down at the city successfully averts her attention from him, her eyes now gazing down at a certain blonde traveller stopping by to buy some supplies for their next adventure.

“you were dreaming of her during your slumber. she's...the fourth betrayal you encountered, correct?” nahida knows that you were anything but a betrayal, but she has to bend her words to his whims for now as to avoid a temper tantrum.

scaramouche hums in response.

“out of all the companions you've trusted, you seemed to cling onto your memories of her the most. why is that?”

“if you've read my mind, then i'm sure you already know why.”

“you're not gonna deny it?” the lesser lord cranes her neck to look at him over her shoulder, brows raised questioningly at his statement. “that you were in love, romantically?” she had carefully formed the question to give him the freedom of denying it just in case he wasn't ready to face his past just yet, but this situation was clearly something she didn't expect.

the male remains resting against the tree behind him, uncaring of the child's rather surprised gaze as his eyes stay shut. “if there's one thing you thought me while being under your care, it has to be acceptance.” he feels his anemo vision thrum to life by his chest, but he pays no mind to it as he continues, “i have nothing to lose now, so I might as well stop lying to myself to give my existence some type of meaning.”

nahida can't help the softening of her eyes towards the male, her smile widening by a fraction before she returns her gaze towards the city below her. if anything, that's probably his way of thanking her. it's a pretty roundabout way considering the better alternatives, but it managed to get the message across, didn't it?

she sighs in content, “that's essentially all I know about her. once again, would you mind telling me how she was like?”

you would probably pass out if you found out that the god of wisdom wishes to know more about you.

the ends of his lips twitch upwards for a moment as he thinks back on the memories he held dearly of you;

ranging from the embarrassing and funny moments you two shared like that one time you accidentally mistook him as a girl due to how graceful and fair his skin and face was, or up to the more intimate moments—like watching the narukami festival unfold along with its blooming fireworks from the mountain peaks of tatarasuna...

...and that one time he finally let your desires free and bared himself for you to touch—his first time.

he feels his cheeks burn at the thought, crossing his arms with a huff as if to breathe out the sinful thoughts.

now that he was free from the shackles of burdens and hatred, everything he experienced with you no longer seemed to be as bitter and disgusting to recall—unlike the times before where he'd have occasional dreams of you back in the fatui, the pettiness in his nerves as he calls it a nightmare that reminds him of how naïve and weak he was back then.

he returns to the matter at hand with a new sense of clarity—now what was he supposed to say again?

right. he was supposed to tell nahida about you.

he can't believe he's still blushing over you after all these centuries.

lifting his eyelids, the first thing he catches in his eyesight was nahida's knowing smile—directed right at him as she stays still on her swing.

why is she—?

oh.

making haste with his movements, he quickly lifts his hand to pull down his hat over his face, only to discover he wasn't wearing his hat at the moment—so pathetically enough, he opts to cover his face with a hand, shyly hiding his face from the grinning archon as he looks away with reddened cheeks and ears.

he got too carried away while reminiscing, it seems.

“i see...so you're still very much in love with her, hm?” nahida speaks up with a teasing tilt to her voice, relishing in this rare moment of the male's lowered guard, “not like i blame you. she was really pretty in your dreams, and probably even prettier in person.”

“shut up. do you want me to continue or not?”

with a quick apology amidst her fit of giggles, she nods, looking away once again from the eccentric wanderer to give him the privacy he deserves.

“sorry, sorry. now you may start.”

her curiousity is piqued. just how much of an impact did you make to cause the male to make such interesting reactions?

she's about to find out now, it seems.

might make part two idk

---

NEEDY

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x fem!reader | wc: 1,2k.

warnings: slight dirty talk, hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie.

Sakusa is needy after weeks without seeing you.

Sakusa Kiyoomi is a passionate man, in volleyball, in cleaning, and—believe it or not—in bed. Yes, he usually hates messes, but when it comes to you in his bed, moaning his name while he thrusts his hips against you mercilessly is a mess he wouldn’t bother repeating over and over again. 

The perfect example is today. He couldn’t resist when he came home from a long trip and saw you in those pajama shorts that suddenly seemed to look better on you than any lingerie in your closet. Nor when you hugged him and he felt your breasts against his torso as you gave him a peck on the lips. He was needy after weeks without your touch, so he didn’t even bother to unpack when he grabbed your waist and brought your lips together in a messy kiss. 

In the blink of an eye Sakusa had already bounced you into his arms and you wrapped your legs around his hips as he carried you into the bedroom, where he threw you on the bed before settling between your legs to rub his growing bulge against your crotch. 

“Missed you so much.” He mumbled against your lips as his hands worked on pulling down your pajama straps to cup your breasts. 

“I can tell.” 

Of course you can tell, much more so because of the way he’s shoving his long shaft inside you right now. He had you on all fours, one of his hands pulling your hair keeping your head against the mattress and the other holding your wrists behind your back. 

Sakusa is going wild. He didn’t mind the exaggerated way in which the headboard of the bed hit the wall; nor that thanks to that, one of the pictures hanging on the wall with a nice picture of you two in an amusement park fell to the floor breaking into pieces. He thought that putting up with the neighbors’ complaints and sweeping up some glass was worth it because of how well your wet walls were squeezing him. 

You were on the verge of collapse, your boyfriend had already made you cum three times, once with his tongue and the other two with his fingers as his cock went in and out of your swollen pussy. But you wouldn’t tell him to stop, not when with every thrust you felt him hit your sweet spot and the moans that escaped from his mouth reached your ears like candy. 

“Fuck— look at you, doll.” He groaned tightening his grip on your hair to yank it back, making you arch your back. His teeth bit your ear before he spoke against it, “You’re taking me so well, I’m gonna cum inside you, ‘kay? I bet you missed havin’ my cum drippin’ out of you.” 

For someone who talks too much about cleanliness, Kiyoomi has a pretty dirty mouth. 

He didn’t recognize himself when it came to having sex with you, he’d stop thinking clearly and just let himself go, just like he could never control the words that came out of his lips. But to say you didn’t like it would be a lie, that’s why you quickly began to nod in agreement with his statement. 

“That’s what I thought.” He left a kiss on your temple before letting your body fall forward. 

Sakusa pulled out of you, earning a groan from you when you felt empty, to grab you by the waist and turn you around roughly. 

Your eyes met his as your back was against the mattress again before he slid his aching cock back in with a single thrust. He quickly regained the rhythm of his hips that made your body sway back and brought his fingers to your puffy clit. You couldn’t hold back the scream that came from your throat at the stimulation, tears spilled from your eyes and you were so sensitive it was almost embarrassing how your orgasm was already approaching with his digits circling your bud for less than two minutes. 

“Omi, I’m—” 

“I know, fuck, I know. I got you, doll.” 

You couldn’t hold it in any longer— your walls squeezed him as if they wanted to push him out the moment you came around his cock. 

Kiyoomi didn’t stop, not even allowing you to take a breath because he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. It was obscene how your moans mingled with the sounds of skin colliding, but that only brought him to the edge. 

The veins in his arms stood out as he grabbed the headboard with all his strength and looked down at you with a smirk on his face. But the cocky smile was replaced by a frown along with his teeth capturing his lower lip the moment he felt his orgasm near. 

“Shit.” 

His grip on the wooden headboard intensified as he increased the speed of his thrusts trying to go deeper—if that was even possible—to chase his climax. No doubt his rough treatment would leave you with a sore body for days, but that was the least of his worries. 

“Almost there, fucking god.” He closed his eyes and threw his head back. 

He was so close. So fucking close. So close that everything going on around him stopped mattering. The only thing on his mind was to cum deep inside you. 

Sakusa was so lost in his pleasure that he just decided to ignore the abrupt movement of the bed that almost made him lose his pace. Not now, he’d worry about it later. 

The sounds of the bed echoed throughout the place, the movements of his hips became clumsy and his grunts became louder announcing that he was about to cum. And god, did he cum.

“Fuck, that’s it.” He mumbled through his teeth as he spilled all his load inside your pussy.  He gave a few more gentle thrusts to make sure he emptied himself before pulling out and admire the mess he had made between your legs with a proud smirk. 

His hands were sore from exerting so much pressure as he let go the poor headboard to drop his body on top of yours and kiss you on the forehead. 

“That was something.” Kiyoomi chuckled trying to catch his breath, “I think we broke the fucking bed.”

You gasped in faux surprise, “You think? Can’t you feel the angle we’re lying at?” 

“I was feeling other things.” He answered cupping your tits in his hands. “Let’s take a shower, c’mon.” 

Your boyfriend stood up, standing on the edge of the bed with his hands on his hips to realize that the front legs of the bed frame were broken. You stood next to him, watching with tight lips what you had done. But when both of you turned to look at each other, you couldn’t help but break into laughter. 

“This is what I call a good fuck.” He said proudly, pulling his phone out of the pockets of his sweatpants that were lying on the floor.

“And now?” 

“I just got my paycheck, don’t worry love, tomorrow we’ll buy a new one.” He kissed your head, “A sturdier one.”

You smiled before turning around to head to the bathroom, but stopped in your tracks when you heard the sound of a photo being taken. You looked over your shoulder to find your boyfriend taking pictures of the bed with a smile as if it were a work of art. 

“And that’s for?”

“Group chat.” He simply stated, “Those idiots have been bugging me that I sure don’t fuck you right.”

---

🫢🫣😮‍💨🛐🛐🛐

taking his knot | 𝕥𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕟𝕒𝕣𝕚

a.n: i want to eat him. cw. knotting

ʕ •̀ ω •́ ʔ

imagine the way he would switch between whimpering and growling. his hands slipping from your waist because he’s fucking you in such a frenzy that a sheen of sweat covers your body, the smell of your arousal driving him insane.

he flips you over flat on your stomach and fucks into you like that. he lets gravity do the work as he drops his hips against your ass, pounding into you. but when you cry for more, for him to fuck you harder and deeper, he grips the headboard and uses it to drive himself into you. the wood bangs against the wall as he splits you open, and he’s sure everyone person and creature in gandharva ville can hear your cries of pleasure.

he’s borderline delirious now. his body weight is comforting on top of you as he licks from your shoulder up to your ear, nibbling on your skin as he whispers filthy promises of how your gonna take his knot, of how he’s gonna empty himself into your tight hole and fill you up. when he feels himself getting close, he quickly pulls out and turns you over; something about how the lewd look on your face as he stretches you out makes him come even harder. he pushes your knees to your chest as he slips inside you, a harsh growl bubbling from his chest as he sets a harsh pace, hard and so deep that each thrust takes your breath away. you know he’s close when you feel yourself begin to stretch around him even more.

you press a hand to his lower stomach in an attempt to get him to slow down but he grabs it, holding it above your head as he leans in closer, “you’re gonna take this cock for me?” he whispers before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. it’s sloppy and messy as your teeth gnash together, his tongue swirling around yours.

he leans back again and holds your thighs down, your knees pressed to your ears now as he has you spread wide open. he pushes himself inside you one more time, slipping in with a wet pop. his grip is tight against your legs as his cock swells some more before coating your insides with thick ropes of creamy cum. he lets out the most salacious moans as he fills you, showering you with praises of “that’s it’s baby” and “fuck you feel so warm” and “god you’re so good for taking all of my cum. for taking all of me.”

the sensation of fullness coupled with how wanton and filthy tighnari is being is what finally drives you over your edge. with a wail of his name so loud he’s sure the sages in sumeru city could hear, you tighten around his thick cock, and the vice grip you have on him causes him to choke. he collapses to your chest with a whine as his body shoots out even more cum. and after giving you all that he has, he lays there, his face pressed against your chest as he waits for both of you to catch your breaths. his tail curls around your waist as he slowly turns you guys over, his cock still inside you. you rest on top of him for a moment, your eyes sliding shut when all of sudden you feel him jerk underneath you. you look down at him to see his pretty eyes glowing, his canines growing a bit sharper as he asks you with a predatory grin,

“ready for round two??”

---

yummy

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note: this is a yandere blog. please take into account what kind of content your comfortable with reading and make sure to read the warnings before each post! also keep in mind that i do not support unhealthy relationships in real life, this is purely for the sake of creative writing!

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