Probably The Cutest Thing That Has Made Me Cackle Like A Witch At The Same Time 🧙🤩

ੈ✩‧₊˚ “pussy put his ass to sleep, now he callin’ me NyQuil…”

Suguru x fem!reader

Suguru used to swear off relationships, he liked to fuck and labels were exhausting. He felt strongly about this, until he had met you. He liked the intimacy, the connection, and the safety he felt with you. At times, he wondered the possibility of soulmates with the way you two seemed to fit into each other so naturally.

Your pussy being able to put him in a coma was just a bonus.

Suguru had sweat dripping from his brow, his eyes shut tight as he felt the warm stickiness of your wet cunt wrapped tightly around his thick cock. The feeling of Suguru's tip hitting your cervix nearly made you stop breathing. His cock leaking into you as he whined into your ear, “so fuckin’ good!” getting lost in the feeling of your tight cunt sucking him in. He had you in missionary, wanting needing to see your reactions every time he pounded into you roughly. Your nails dug into his soft skin, your mouth wide open letting cries of pleasure bounce on the wall.

“Guru’, R-right there!” You let out a silent scream as a strong pressure fills your cunt. He sped up, biting your shoulder to hush his own moans and indulge in yours. “wa-it, suguru!—“ you gasped, trying to push him away. He laughed breathily at your attempts, pinning your hands above you head as your eyes began to water. “Nuh uh, not going anywhere..” moving one hand to your waist to lift you up a little, perfectly battering the most sensitive part of you. You squirmed as your vision started to blur, the intense feeling made your legs shake and release liquid from your swollen and puffy pussy. You laid there lifeless, trying to breathe as suguru pulled away to watch the way you twitched.

“Look at this pussy~” he cooed when you tried to close your legs, his fingers too much for how sensitive you’ve become. He pulled them apart, a sadistic look in his eye as he let a glob of cool spit land on your soaked cunt, using his thumb to spread it. You bit your lip to hold back a whine, your back arching off the bed. “Is it too much?” Your glossy eyes met his and you nodded. He leaned down to kiss your lips, “you still gonna’ help me cum?” You paused before nodding again, a little sniffle coming from you when you felt his dick grind against you.

“Such a good girl, my perfect girl..” he praised, pulling back to watch his tip push into you again. He looked at the way your brows furrow, a small whimper leaving your glossy lips. Suguru smirked before shoving himself into you fully, taking a sharp intake of breath and letting his head roll back, “fu—uck..”

you immediately tried to pull away only for him to grab your soft hips. “Don’t run baby—you can take it.” His voice strained, fucking into you harder than before, finally chasing his own release. His hand wrapped around your throat, your voice squeaking up higher as you begged for him to use you. You reached up to tweak his nipples making a shiver run up his spin, a choked moan escaping him. “That’s it baby, take that fuckin’ dick.”

He curled himself into your neck when he came, continuing his rutting to work the both of you through your orgasms. He came a lot, purring as you whispered affirmations to him. “Love your pussy..” he muttered into your ear, kissing your neck while trying to level his breathing and wrap his arms around you. You smiled and played with his hair, knowing how much he loves the feeling.

After noticing how quiet it got, you got suspicious. “suguru?” Looking down, only to notice he had fallen asleep, still inside of you and on top of you. You groaned and rolled your eyes, “get up! suguru?! You do this every time-“ you were cut off with a whine and silence again. Maybe you should’ve riden him instead…

A/n; saw some fan art of him and now he won’t leave my mind🛌 also, thinking of writing hockey player!suguru, can’t get the image of him skating with his long hair flowing behind him he’s so fucking fine.

---

DOTTORE HCS THAT ARENT HORNY?? BUT FLUFFY??? this is so cute oml

hiii, if your requests are still open, can i request headcannons of dottore and reader in the sumeru academia (romantic)? Have a nice day 💕

♡ 𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐮 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 ♡

synopsis: The prestigious Sumeru Akademiya was filled with interesting and unique characters. But none of them came close to the man shrouded in rumors and loneliness, Dottore.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: Of course I can! This was very fun to write, as I love this idea so much. I hope you enjoy this!

Even though you had grown up in Sumeru amongst the greatest scholars and had access to knowledge, you never wanted to become a scholar and go to the Akademiya. You had seen people suffer for years over their research and take half of their lives to graduate. In no way did you want a strict and consuming life like that. You were quite content with being an adventurer for the Guild, as you were very strong and could hold your own easily. That was until you found out your parents had signed you up for the Akademiya without your knowledge, and all your items were moved to a dorm room there. You were highly upset and wanted to leave immediately, but something stopped you. Maybe it was because you were already here, and it’d be a pain to go back and face your parents immediately. And maybe some of those smart scholars could help you with some fighting techniques. So you decided to stay to test the waters, just to see what the Akademiya life was like.

You still didn’t try that hard though, and instead struck deals with other scholars. You found out that many of them weren’t very strong. They couldn’t test their devices, or go to old ruins or dangerous places for their research by themselves without paying a large fee to hire someone. So instead, you would do anything fighting-related for them, and they would help you with the work in return. It was really good actually, whenever you were partnered for some group project with some random person, you’d do all the fighting while they did the academics. This resulted in good results from their research, so the professors at least briefly knew of your existence out of the mass amount of students. It helped that you were patient and kind, so many people grew to like you. This is why many people ran to warn you about the man named Dottore you happened to be partnered with this time.

Apparently, he was a teal-haired man with red eyes who always donned a mask, so no one knew what his real face looked like. Rumors about his dubious experiments and malpractice always floated about but there was never any concrete evidence to convict him. Despite this, he was so incredibly smart that even the top professors acknowledged his intelligence. He rarely left his room, but when he did, the hundreds of students in the hallways would scamper to the side, leaving a clear-cut path for him to walk. No one would dare talk to him, and some were even scared to step close to his dorm room after Dottore’s only roommate left, saying they’d rather live on the streets than with that “madman.” While many people begged you to ask the professor for a change of partners, you were intrigued by this so-called freak and monster. Maybe since you’ve already seen all kinds of monsters in the wild so you weren’t that scared, but you wanted to meet this Dottore.

You walked down the hallway in which Dottore’s room was. It was a normal hallway, with normal rooms, and Dottore’s room all the way at the end of the hall was no different. It was a bit funny to know how people were scared to do such a mundane thing. And so, you raised your hand to knock but before you could, the door opened a crack and a distinct red eye peered at you. How’d he know you were there? You faltered a second but composed yourself, ready to make your introduction, but he sharply interrupted you.

“I already know who you are, and why you’re here. No need to waste time,” Dottore said dryly, noticing as you blinked awkwardly at his less than pleasant attitude. He didn’t say anything else as he eased the door open some more, letting you come in.

It was darker than normal because much of the curtains had been pulled shut. You gazed at your surroundings. His room was more of a workshop and lab than a living space. Different kinds of tools scattered about, clipboards and papers, oh, and he even had Ruin Guard parts?! Wait, was that a syringe? 

Dottore eyed you carefully, arms crossed. He was already secretly surprised at your boldness, as no one besides him had stepped foot in here in ages. In truth, he hoped to drive you off with his usual rudeness and questionable room, so you’d go and ask the professor to let you have another partner, so then he could work alone in peace. Oh, how wrong he was.

“Wow! Your room is so cool!”

A moment passed in silence as Dottore had to make sure he didn’t hear things. “What…?”

“I’ve never seen any other student’s room look like this!” You bounced over to a random desk and squinted at some papers. “And I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone research this kinda stuff before,” you hummed, trying to hold it up to the light to read.

It took Dottore another moment to process what you said, but he quickly grabbed the notes from your hand. “These aren’t for your eyes, idiot,” he scowled, for once not sure what to say because no one had ever said that to him. He became even more confused when all you did was laugh.

This was Dottore? You were prepared for a lot worse from the rumors, but definitely not this. And furthermore, he was quite attractive even though he had a smart mouth. You shook your head, feeling as though this would be quite interesting.

“Hey, why don’t we start that project already? I promise I’ll be of good help to you.” Thus began your days as Dottore’s assistant in Sumeru Akademiya.

Dottore was still internally shocked that you willingly volunteered yourself as his partner. Initially was super suspicious of you - you had to be lying, or playing a prank, or planning to leak all his work to outsiders. Barely said a word and brushed you off at first, but found it harder to keep up the act when you continued to be sweet and patient with him. Eventually gave up when you kept barging into his dorm for his company and beating the shit out of his tormentors in front of him.

After the two of you finished the first group project, his chest twinged a bit, a feeling he only felt long ago, when he was chased out of his town with pitchforks and his first few months of being shunned at the Akademiya. He questioned why. Oh - it was because now that the project was over, you’d never talk to him again. But this thought only flitted in his mind, as he refused to think about it any longer, quickly resuming his research. Oh, how he would be wrong again. A few days later, there was a familiar banging on his door, and he unconsciously moved quicker than usual to open it.

“Oh hey Dotty! Move over, I gotta move my stuff into your room?”

“What?” This conversation was starting to feel too similar to the first one he had with you.

“I’m your new roommate starting today, of course! Haha!” You laughed merrily as you handed him the transfer papers. He was too shocked to berate you.

“Hey, is your bed the top bunk bed or the bottom one? I can’t tell because all your science stuff is on both.”

You and your unusualness were going to be the death of him.

After Dottore warms up to you, it is impossible for him to let go. You will forever be with him. Unfortunately pre-relationship, he comes off like an asshole despite him trying his best since he actually likes you. When he tries to convey how he’s glad you’re his roommate now, he probably ends up saying something dumb and insulting, and then cringes in private later at his horrid social skills. Please tell him your feelings first, he keeps screwing it up and you’re probably tired of that. When you confess, he acts so confident but is questioning himself and you so badly - how can you really love someone like him? Buries these conflicting thoughts and is genuinely eager to finally someone who cares. He was one who has no one else in this world besides himself, but he now you too. 

Room dates!! This man doesn’t like leaving his room due to all the stares he gets, and he doesn’t like when you’re not with him, so a lot of dates are in the comfort of his room. Well, you’re the one who made it comfortable, after organizing all his messes and buying new decorations and soft blankets for cuddling. I don’t know how the Akademiya is structured, but imagine you and Dottore lying against each, looking out from your high-floor dorm room window out at the city at night <3. (Dottore is in no way a sap for this kind of stuff, but it makes you happy, so he can deal with it.) Dates where you help him tinker with stuff. The two of you buy something, dismantle it, and then rebuild it for fun. Dates where he rambles on for hours about his new theories and future experiments, and the plans that he will fulfill. I don’t know if you can consider experimenting in his room a date, but yeah. Also, you spoon feeding him food because if you don’t he’ll forget to eat.

Dates where he takes you to different locations and makes you fight enemies that he wants the material and drops of. You make him hide behind rocks so he doesn’t get hurt, but he secretly takes notes of all your fascinating moves. Would give you advice after on how to save the most stamina and energy, which moves would give you the most power. Honestly, he could make you a lot stronger with just his observations and words. Dates where he takes you to ancient domains and ruins. Dottore takes notes of all the ancient scribbles and puzzles for his research while you fight for both of your lives. Since he’s a student he still has more free time, he just chooses to spend it on research. Dates where you forcibly drag him out for picnics at night so no one can bother the two of you or stare. Tells you about how all the stars in the sky are lies, apparently. Thinks reciting complicated formulas and scientific facts is romantic.

Dottore carries you easily in the Akademiya. He could do two different reports on the same topic and make them completely different. If you ask him to do so, he’ll moan and groan but ultimately get it done quickly because he’s a genius, and also he loves you too much and would kill a man if you really wanted him to. You don’t need any other partner besides him, Dottore insists. No one can explain the concepts better than him, and no one would take hours to explain them to you either. But he is a bit competitive so if you happen to do better on a test or assignment, Dottore would get all pouty. He likes being the smarter one in the relationship. (You have to convince him that he definitely is and that you got this far with his help.) Also, you taking off his mask so you can kiss his face. This takes so much trust, and it probably happens first in the pitch darkness where you still can’t see his face yet.

Times where the two of you make fun of the people who bullied you. Dottore can be real nasty especially when people are mean to you. You have to calm him down. Study dates happen quite often as well. But you have trouble focusing on all of those hard things so you try to distract and bother Dottore by wrapping your arms around him and snuggling into his neck. He gets all grouchy but gives into cuddles after some persistence. Even though you still didn’t have much desire to graduate from the Akademiya, you vowed to remain Dottore’s loyal assistant for however long. You hoped these days would continue forever, but all you knew was that no matter where Dottore went, you’d follow after, much to his pleasure. Neither of you would have it any other way <3.

taglist: @heyhazelnut101, @peepopeepopeperoni

---

Imagine being Heaven's Therapist. The person would probably quit after the first day.

Pei Ming would show up there just to flirt, regardless of gender, he will try his luck.

Xie Lian would be the only one showing up daily except that he doesn't like to acknowledge that he has trauma so he'd be laughing about it and feel awkward when the therapist isn't laughing too. Meanwhile the therapist might have second-hand trauma from Xie Lian's jokes.

Mu Qing won't even show up.

Hua Cheng sneaks into heaven just because there's someone getting paid to listen to rants so he can talk about how much he loves Xie Lian all day long.

Jun Wu would also never show up. 2000 years of baggage, one therapist will never be enough.

Feng Xin might show up and actually get shit done. He needs a therapist and not their go-to sarcastic one (I mean you Mu-Qing).

Shi Wudu also wouldn't show up but he'd make Shi Qingxuan go.

Shi Qingxuan would drag Ming Yi with him and it would be so awkward for so many reasons. Cause Shi Qingxuan isn't even aware....that he has trauma...... (Yes, this is pre canon). Ming Yi would go for the snacks though.

Ling Wen would go. It's an important part of her schedule but she's only going because it's the only time she can sip tea in peace and be left alone. She's not speaking a word to the therapist. Except maybe bonding from their stressed out jobs.

Quan Yizhen would go because everyone told him to go. He's not sure why he's there. If someone asks about his feelings he'll talk about Shixiong before he curls on the couch and fall asleep.

Lang Qianqiu...... actually has a lot to get off his chest. Even pre-cannon. It gets worse post-cannon. I'm sure, like Qi Ying, he just wants to ask "Did I do something wrong?"

AHAHSGSHSH OH HOW THE TURNFTABLES

i ate this up liekdksjejdj

𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒 | 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔.

word count: 2.2k

tags: fem! reader, 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, unprotected sex, friends with benefits to lovers

a/n: happy birthday to my favorite insufferable nuisance. he’s probably ooc sobs leave me alone

gojo satoru doesn’t get ghosted. he does the ghosting.

he’s used to heartbroken girls that expect a call back, he’s used to bitter whispers about him after a one-night stand stays at just a one-night stand, and he’s used to getting up and leaving.

but he’s not used to this. he’s not used to being the one left, and he can’t fathom that someone wouldn’t want to text him back—let alone collect their things and leave him in the morning without a word. and truth be told, he’s a little wounded. he tells himself it’s strictly because his pride and ego and dignity are all tainted by your inability to comprehend just what you had scored and not anything else. because that’s exactly what it is, no doubt about it.

he’s embarrassed, not hurt. and it’s most certainly not because he finds you attractive—more so than he’s found anyone else in a really long time, and there is no chance that it’s because he enjoys seeing you interact with his students—he refuses to acknowledge that the warmth that spreads through his chest is actually warmth, and it’s a cold day in hell before he admits if it’s because he has feelings for you.

gojo satoru doesn’t do feelings. he simply doesn’t. that’s why he doesn’t care that you’re right here, in front of him—because there are definitely no feelings involved.

“funny running into you here,” you tilt your head, setting your bag down on the table. the cafe is quiet at this hour, and you’re on your lunch break. he knows you are, he knows a lot of things about you, and he wants to learn more. he can’t really understand why he cares.

“i don’t remember saying you could sit at my table,” he grins lazily at you. “i don’t remember you asking to join me either, but i wouldn’t wanna break your heart. you can stay,” he says smugly, and a small part of his chest blooms at the amusement that twinkles in your eyes. they’re a lot brighter in this lighting, and even if he gets to see them up close when he’s hovering over you in bed, he never gets to stare at them in this manner.

“you’re sitting at my table, actually,” you squint at him. “i always come here during my lunch break.” he thinks it’s funny that you lift your chin in defiance, it’s a quirk he’s caught onto quickly, and it’s endearing.

“i thought i’d make your break a bit more interesting today,” he winks, and even if you can’t see it through the blindfold, he has a feeling you know. and maybe that’s not really a good thing—he shouldn’t let you know him that well, but it’s too late to draw back now and he couldn’t even if he tried.

“i see enough of you in a day,” you groan playfully. “i deserve a break. from work and you.”

“you see me around often?” he raises a brow. “are you following me?” he smirks at you, making you scoff with a roll of your eyes. there’s a soft chuckle that bubbles all the way from your chest, and gojo almost gulps at the sound. your laugh is a sweet melody, and he could listen to it for an eternity before he gets tired, he could listen to it every night before he sleeps. and even if he denies it to himself, he sleeps way better when your warmth encompasses him instead of just the sheets.

it’s too bad you never stay the whole time.

“if i am, then maybe you’re not as good as they say,” you tease. “i’ve gotten past your radar all this time then.” he grins at the soft little snort that leaves you as you speak, and he also finds that endearing too.

he can’t remember the last time something outside of a sultry voice and skimpy clothes made him want someone this badly, but even just the sound of your laugh has him drawn to you like a moth to a flame. and what draws him to you even more is that he knows that if he gets too close, you won’t burn him. you’re not blazing heat, you’re a subtle warmth, and it’s what he needs deep down.

“i let my fans keep up with me,” he shrugs with a smirk. “i’d hate to let them all down.”

“ah,” you nod, looking down at your lap. instantly, there’s something that shifts, and he’s not sure what it is, but it doesn’t seem good. “don’t you have a mission today,” you raise a brow, and a small part of his chest aches at the way you almost seem to be dismissing him. and even though this is technically his table—he did get here first, after all—suddenly, he feels like an intruder as you stare at him.

“it’s tomorrow,” he corrects casually. “excited you get some more time with me?” he asks, but the cocky demeanor is never enough to phase you, and he can’t understand why.

he’s so unused to this imbalance, so confused why it is that his smug grin doesn’t get you flustered, but it never seems to.

“that’s a shame. i don’t think time is in my favor then,” you sigh dramatically. “i was counting on getting some alone time.” he wants to laugh at the subtle pout on your lips as you speak, and he wants to reach over and poke it with his finger, maybe even run his thumb over the bottom lip, but he quickly stops his thoughts from wandering elsewhere. suddenly, he remembers why he’s here in the first place.

“you do seem to never have enough time,” he hums. “is that why you have such busy mornings?” there’s a small hint of alarm in your expression, and in a moment, you’re scrambling to get up as you bite your lip.

“i…just realized i never ordered my dri—”

“i ordered it for you,” he interrupts. “it should be here in a bit.”

“i have a really specific order,” you avoid looking at his face. “i should go double check you got it right.”

“i know your order,” he says simply. and despite his tendency to never seem to pay attention, you don’t doubt that he did in fact get your order on the mark. sighing, you sit back down slowly, wringing your fingers as you refuse to meet his gaze, even if you can’t exactly meet it through a blindfold anyway.

“i uh…have a lot to do in the mornings,” you mumble.

“too busy for me, huh?” he chuckles dryly, and this time, as you look up, it really does feel like you’ve met his gaze through the cloth, and neither of you can seem to look away.

“satoru,” you whine, and the way your nails used to dig into his skin when he first used to bottom out contrasts greatly to how you cling to him now, arms wrapped around his figure as he inches into your cunt slowly. he starts to breathe more heavily, head finding your neck instantly as you seem to squeeze even tighter around him than the last time he’s fucked you.

“didn’t even do much yet,” he lets out a breathy chuckle, and he can feel your pulse as his nose presses against the skin of your neck. he wonders if you’re aware of his, aware of how your heartbeat is so in sync with his. “already that fucked out?” and if you weren’t too busy moaning at the way he pulls out only to slam back into you, hips angling to thrust right into the spot he knows by heart will get you going, you’d have bit back with something of your own. and gojo thinks it’s one of his favorite things about you, the way you never seem to go down without a fight, even if it’s him you’re up against.

“why are you hiding then?” you huff, and he digs his face deeper into the crook of your neck at your words, almost like he’s scared you’ll rip him out. he lets out a soft groan, breathy and drawn out as his thrusts continue, your walls squeezing around him with each snap of his hips. and even with the way you challenged him just moments ago, your fingers comb through his hair soothingly.

you whimper when he hits a certain spot once more, and he gasps at the way you spasm around him, sucking him in tighter, almost like you don’t want to let him go. the throb of his cock is too much. too good and too painful all at once, the climb to his orgasm muddling his mind as he fucks into you slowly, sensually, each angling of his pelvis perfectly precise.

“the view will make you finish too quick,” he rasps, and even as he chokes on a soft whine, he doesn’t miss a beat to be insufferable. you scoff, but still, your hips raise to meet his, and your upper body closes the gap as your skin touches his. your chests meet, and a wanton moan escapes both of you as your nipples graze the heated skin of the other’s. you can feel the drag of every ridge and every vein of his stiff cock, can almost feel the pulse as it throbs in your wet heat.

“or maybe it’s the—fuck, right there, toru,” you cut yourself off, and he’s breathing much more erratic now, panting harshly into your neck as he tries to stave off his high so he can meet his with yours. “m-maybe it’s the other way around,” you finish your earlier statement with a shaky voice.

he’s close, he’s so close, and it feels so good it almost hurts. you feel so good it almost hurts. it hurts deep in his chest, in corners and crevices he didn’t even know were there as he cradles you closer to his body, and he almost wants to hope the way you’re holding him is you cradling him too. and now, as you choke on cries of his name, as he finally pulls away from your neck to see the way you glow so ethereally with tears pricking your waterline, he thinks maybe he does do feelings—because all he ever wants to do is feel you. he wants to feel you deep within his skin, in his bones, and in his muscles as he becomes one with you.

and he never wants to wake up alone. not without you there.

“fuck, ‘m so close,” he breathes, groaning when you tug him by his hair and pull him into a kiss. he kisses you hungrily, like he’s been starved, a mess of lips and teeth and hot breaths. and he has been starved, he thinks, he’s been starved of you for so long, he doesn’t know how long he can hold out. “f-fuck, cum with me,” he pleads, and how can you not give him what he wants when he asks so nicely?

your walls spasm around him as you let go with a high-pitched whine, back arching off the sheets as your legs wrap around his torso. with a loud grunt, he follows, choking on moans as he cums. thick ropes of cum paint your walls, and he slams his hips desperately into your heat as he fucks you both through your orgasms.

he slumps on top of you when you both finish, catching his breath into the crook of your neck once more. and if he has to cage you with his body to keep you in place, he thinks he will this time around.

“you should be getting ready for your mission,” you whisper after some time, and he nuzzles into you further, and almost as though you understand, you rub his back slowly.

“can’t help but worry about me even after i’ve fucked your brains out,” he teases, and the soft slap to his shoulder makes him let out a quiet, giddy little laugh.

“gonna walk out again,” you warn. “won’t even wait for you to sleep this time.” but gently, you pull the covers over your bodies, pressing a soft kiss to his sweaty forehead, pushing back the damp strands that stick to the skin.

“i’ll be walking out this time,” he smiles into your skin. “mission’s in the morning. don’t miss me too much.”

“won’t miss you,” you roll your eyes. it’s silent for a moment before you hesitantly speak up. “you fuck all your little fans like this?” you mumble softly, and his heart aches a little, throbbing in his chest.

“no,” gojo hums. “just you. trying to make everyone jealous.” there’s a small shift in the air again, a good one this time, when you let out a soft breath. and he catches your hand when you go to smack him playfully again, and ever so softly, he presses a tiny kiss to your inner wrist before he falls asleep, body curving against yours perfectly.

---

‎ ‎   ‎ ‎𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓  𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

‎ ‎ ┈───┈ ┈───┈┈┈───┈ ┈───┈

‎ ‎ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 ⌵

‎ ‎ I believe in myself.

‎ ‎ I am okay.

‎ ‎ Everything turned out better than expected.

‎ ‎ I am safe.

‎ ‎ I am protected.

‎ ‎ I‘m in control, even if it doesn’t feel like it.

‎ ‎ I always get through anything, no matter how tough it is.

‎ ‎ I’m strong and can endure anything.

‎ ‎ I am grounded.

‎ ‎ I attract only what I truly want.

‎ ‎ I know intrusive thoughts hold no power over me.

‎ ‎ I am proud of myself.

‎ ‎ I am at peace with myself and everything around me.

‎ ‎ My desires are apart of me.

‎ ‎ I love myself.

‎ ‎ I am capable of everything I want to do.

‎ ‎ Nothing can hurt me or my loved ones.

‎ ‎ I feel at ease with everything.

‎ ‎ My fears, worries and doubts have no power over me.

‎ ‎ I know my desires are mine; it’s my birthright.

‎ ‎ ┈───┈ ┈───┈┈┈───┈ ┈───┈

‎‎ ‎ 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 ⌵

‎ ‎ These hard times will pass.

‎ ‎ I know these feelings are temporary.

‎ ‎ It’ll all work out better than expected.

‎ ‎ No matter how dark life seems right now, I‘ll end up okay.

‎ ‎ Better things are coming my way.

‎ ‎ I know my desires will be mine; it is my birthright.

‎ ‎ I will get everything I want; it’s inevitable.

‎ ‎ I will be okay.

‎ ‎ My fears will not hurt me or come true.

‎ ‎ I am capable of overcoming this.

‎ ‎ It will all turn out okay.

‎ ‎ I can get through this.

‎ ‎ Life has great things in store for me.

‎ ‎ I got this; I can do anything even if it doesn‘t seem like it.

‎ ‎ ┈───┈ ┈───┈┈┈───┈ ┈───┈

© 2022 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐓 | do not repost, copy, translate, or use any posts on this blog in any way without credit or permission

---

---

"aki has a very moanable name" is so right!!!!

now every time aki hears you call his name, flashbacks from the way you moaned his name comes back at him. "Hey Aki, look at this" "Aki, do you think-" "are you okay, Aki?" he's totally bricked up just hearing you say it. He has to physically grip the counter or look away to shake off the lewd things he's thinking of doing to you, the respectful man he is 🤤

HNNNNGNNBBBFBBB YOU'RE SO RIGHTTTT

I just can't help but feel like aki has a huge kink for you saying his name, if he's inside you and you suddenly start whining it over and over he'd have to stop for a second so he doesn't cum... if you coo it so sweetly in his ear he's prepared to do anything and everything you ask for, and if he has to, he'll lean in close to your ear and beg for you to say it for him...

of course, he doesn't think about the consequences until he hears you call for him and the sheer mention of your voice saying his name has him all flustered and hot and asking if he can excuse himself so he can go calm down.

---

satoru sneaks out of his meetings just to go home and fuck you senseless.

you can text him anything, and he’ll use that excuse to get out of a meeting; it can be “get me apples,” and he’s out of there.

once you noticed, you used that to your advantage whenever you were feeling horny. was that kind of wrong? yeah, but if satoru didn’t care, then neither did you.

sending him nudes in the middle of his meetings, making his dick stand up tall, and him booking it back home.

while he’s fucking you, he’ll blame you for having him come back and fuck some sense into you for sending something to him like that.

his dick poking stirring your insides, having you gasp for air and having your eyes rolled back as your arms flail around.

this didn’t just happen every once in a while; this happened almost every week. you send something suggestive, and satoru comes back five minutes later to give you dick.

“come on, tell me how you want it. you were just sending shit.” with one hand around your neck and the other gripping your ass, pushing his dick deep inside you.

every time he rushed back home to give you what you wanted, it felt like you were on another planet.

it was like he was in a rush, but the way his hands roamed around you and his soft voice slipped into your ear felt like you guys had been interloped for hours.

multiple positions all in under an hour, making you cum back to back, no breaks, just him working you.

“you can cum again; come on, i thought you wanted this.” finally taking off his shirt because he was getting hot and couldn’t fuck you the way he wanted to with the fabric pushing against him.

plus, it was already drenched from your fluids.

him leaving meetings with no warnings had the higher-ups made, but he didn’t give one fuck; if his baby wanted him home, that’s where he was going.

one time when he left and he was in the middle of fucking you, they were blowing up his phone and interrupting his rhythm, so he did what he had to do.

answering the phone and fucked you so good you were moaning loud as hell and cumming on his dick.

they never called again; they just had to deal with it.

the only meeting he was concerned about was the one with his dick and your pussy.

---

oh this looks so fun holly!!! i would like to participate in rolling the dice please~

2 | genshin impact, zhongli (honestly are you even surprised lmao) | no genre, go crazy ;)

thank you and also congrats on 1k!! here's to many more bc you totally deserve it for all your amazing writing ✨💖🥂🍾💐

thank you so much dear!! ♡

i´m not surprised but still very much elated because i like writing zhongli i should do it more often; after all, i do quite enjoy the manner in which he chooses converse aka i like that he talks in fancy jsjshs

anyway, i hope you have as much fun reading as i had writing; without furtherado, let´s get the ball, or in this case the dice, rolling with...

IN VINO VERITAS

trope: drunken confession [space nr. 2]

pairing: zhongli x gn!reader

genre: crack, fluff

warnings: alcohol consumption

second constellation event masterlist

You overestimated your alcohol tolerance. Or underestimated Zhongli´s. Or both. Probably both.

Much to your delight, the consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor had asked you to accompany him to dinner this evening at ‘Third-Round-Knockout’. Seeing as you had been harbouring feelings for the man for quite some time now, you had been quick to agree.

You were well aware of the restaurant´s rather strong drinks, yet, as you listened to Zhongli´s melodic voice describing scenes from a time long past, your attention lay not with your glass but with the charming geo user right in front of you. Somewhere far back in your mind, a tiny voice wondered how he could know all of these ancient stories in such great detail but the more often your hand moved towards your beverage, the quieter it got.

And that was how you found yourself basically glued to his lips as your cheeks radiated a tingly warmth that slowly spread all throughout your body. Under normal circumstances, you´d stare much less obviously and would at least try to follow his explanations but right now you couldn´t really care.

“(Y/n)?” At the call of your name you merely hummed in reply. “(Y/n), I cannot help but observe a distinctive lack of attentiveness in you tonight. I wonder whether this is due to the lateness of the hour or whether there is something weighing heavy on your mind?”

“Or perhaps,” he studied your glass and then your complexion, bringing a gloved hand up to cup your cheek, “tonight´s beverages are affecting you more than they do affect me. My apologies, I should have been more considerate towards your tolerance when choosing. Please do believe me, it was not my intention to leave you inebriated by the time we part ways, it's just that I usually find myself in the company of those who can never seem to drink enough.”

“No, no, I´m fine! That´s not it!” Zhongli slightly cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow as you hurriedly waved your hands in front of you. “It´s really not the alcohol! It´s actually your fault!”

“Oh?” It was impressive how quickly you went from moving a mile a minute to being completely frozen in place. When Zhongli, however, seemed more amused than offended, you remembered how to breathe again. “Would you please care to enlighten me as to how it is my fault you´re so distracted?”

“It´s because of your stupidly distracting face of course! I mean seriously, how is it fair for someone to be this handsome? Like hello?? Normal people exist, you know,” you grumbled, your head supported by your hand now. Breathing out a heavy sigh, you continued with a dismissive wave of your hand. “You´re always so nice and gentlemanly, too. Like, you´re beautiful and well-mannered and also, like, really smart and that's just not fair. And then every time you talk to me, my heart does that stupid fluttery thing and it´s just ugh– Like, you´re you and I ´m me and I just really don´t know how to tell you that I like you more than a friend.”

For a moment, both of you just stared at each other, Zhongli with his brows drawn in surprise and you with a slightly annoyed pout. Then, realisation struck.

“Oh my archons! It´s– I didn´t–” After not being able to come up with any kind of sentence whatsoever, you buried your face in your hands, the embarrassment heating you up more than any kind of liquor ever could. “Oh Rex Lapis, please let the ground swallow me whole.”

“There will be no need for that.” Zhongli´s deep chuckle made you peek out from between your fingers and seconds later any sort of shield was taken from you as firm hands gently grasped your wrists and pulled your hands down between you two. You almost missed how his thumbs drew deliberately slow circles onto the palms of your hands as you lost yourself in intense pools of molten gold and amber. “I must say, even in a situation such as this, you´re so very precious.”

“Huh?” was a rather intelligent remark on your end.

“You mentioned previously your heart does, may I directly quote you, ‘that stupid fluttery thing’ whenever you talk to me. And although I might have expressed myself a little differently were I in your shoes, I can assure you the sentiment is the very same.” Gifting you a rare smile as he watched your mouth part in an awed ‘o’ shape, he continued. “Without wanting to sound too forward, I would like to invite you to spend the night at my humble residence, mainly because I wish to see you taken care of properly. But I also cannot deny wanting to keep you close now that our feelings lay bare before one another. What say you?”

“That sounds very nice,” you yawned. 

“Then so shall it be.” Draping his long coat over your shoulders, Zhongli held out his hand for you to take as you left the restaurant and began your walk through the tranquillity of Liyue Harbor´s night. “By tomorrow I´d like you to repeat yourself again. I must be sure it is you and not the drink talking. You´ll do that for me, right, dearest?”

You hummed and nodded as you drew the shoulders of his coat more snugly against you, practically melting into the cosy fabric. The man next to you couldn´t help but chuckle at your actions.

“Perhaps,” he mused, “you could also take that chance to tell me more about my… what was it? Ah yes, my ‘stupidly distracting face’, to make use of your phrasing.”

“Only if you promise to stop teasing me about this.”

“Ah, you see, a promise is not unlike a contract. One should not give one´s word when one is not certain to also keep it.”

“Zhongli!”

tag list: @mccnstruck

---

AUAYAYAYAYAYAYA THIS IS LITERALLY PULLING ME THRU MY ALLERGIES ISTG

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.

previous episode. watch here.

note. the long-awaited sequel nobody actually waited for lmao. please read part 1 if you still haven't! this entire fic would be incomprehensible otherwise :'D

四 ; ayato, the cannon fodder

although xiao is, with absolute certainty, regarded as your definite favorite celebrity in your heart, ayato comes a close second.

he's a modern day prince; if anyone were asked to say which male lead they liked best, you can guarantee their answer would be among one of his roles.

he played a lot of characters—a school heartthrob, a ceo, a bar owner, and even an actual prince for a snow white retelling. each one with stellar execution, as you'd expect from an actor of his caliber.

so it is to your absolute horror to find him casted in this production as a minor villain. the one that happens to (futilely) seduce the journalist to bed, no less!

is he asking to get his image destroyed?! which... actually does make sense. he's already been typecasted as the “prince” type of male lead, and you can guess how frustrating that can be. it must suck to play one persona over and over, mindlessly spouting recycled lines; not much room for creativity there.

but he's had different roles too, of course. one that stuck to your mind is another murder mystery, a film focusing on the death of a family head. the power struggle for the place of successor isn't a secret even to the public, and the prime suspects are primarily composed of the victim's relatives who stand to benefit from the family head's death.

ayato played the role of the first son, believed to be the one most likely to inherit the riches. which means the sooner the family head dies, he gets to have all the assets. he's suspicious due to his probable motive, but overly so that it's too obvious; ironically enough, this leads the audience to think he definitely couldn't be the killer.

except he is exactly that, but for a reason nobody would expect. rather than greed, the first son murdered his father for driving his biological mother to madness due to abuse and then sent her to a psychiatric ward, where she eventually died. he took in a second wife, a woman only after his money, who kept on pressuring her husband to make her daughter his successor.

contrary to popular belief, ayato's character didn't loathe his step-sister. in fact, he cared about her quite a bit, and his hate for his father grew whenever he scorned her for being “lacking” or “good for nothing.” his scummy personality led to his demise.

in the end, the step-mother was wrongly arrested, and the true murderer wasn't revealed until after the credits, where ayato was shown sitting at his father's desk and laughing to himself, followed by a scene detailing how the actual murder took place and how he tricked the investigators successfully.

the contrast between his acting as a shallow young master and a cunning mastermind had been praised by many. to tell the truth, you don't know how he was typecasted as a prince when he's clearly more suited for “villain” roles.

...even so, his current role isn't anything like the previous one! a cannon fodder and a genius murderer are nowhere near alike! he's only there to make the protagonist jealous and his character is fated to die one week after the scene with the journalist!

you suppose your disbelief must've shown on your face when each actor's respective role was announced because he couldn't help but chuckle when he looked at you.

“...by any chance, did you audition for the murderer role? because- it's hard to believe that-” you struggle to piece together words, rambling while ayato is busy signing his autograph on your phone case. (as luck would have it, you don't have paper on you. you said he could sign the back of your shirt but he politely declined, insisting the shirt would get dirty like you aren't planning to get it framed on your bedroom wall and declare it your heirloom.)

you don't even feel shy talking to him from the sheer incredulity of the situation. ayato only laughs as he hands you your phone case. “i did. but it turned out getting a minor role is a good thing since i'm planning to be on vacation soon.”

“oh. that's understandable, then...” barely. you still have complaints about it. as an actor, you respect the director's decisions, but as a loyal fan, you oughta give him a talking to and demand to give your idol the role he deserves.

“do you dislike it?”

your brows knit together, eyes momentarily leaving your now prized phone case to glance at him. “dislike what?” dislike that you're treated like this? that you have to act as a brainless villain? that you don't get much screentime? then fuck yeah.

“dislike that you're going to do that scene with me.” almost bashful, he leans closer to whisper to your ear. “you know. the one in the hotel.”

all the blood in your body rushes to your cheeks. impishly, ayato's lips curl into a smile of mischievous nature, a far cry from the elegant simper he usually holds. “i... that isn't what i... no, i mean it's not that i don't like you as my partner, but- but-!”

sufficiently entertained by your fumbling, he stops being mean and lightly pats the top of your head. “let's both do our best. truthfully, i'm not the most adept with bedroom scenes, but if you need help, you can always rely on me.”

rely how exactly?!

...

“is it too tight?”

“um... a little.”

“okay. is this better?”

“yes. am i too stiff?”

“mhm, a bit. you don't have to be nervous. it's just me.”

ah yes. it's just THE kamisato ayato pinning you down your bed, breathing down your neck, moments away from stealing your lips. nothing to worry about, clearly.

he adjusts his grip on your wrists, loosening it to your liking. his character is meant to push you down forcibly, but of course he doesn't want to actually harm you during filming—to prepare before the shoot, practice is of utmost importance. you have to give the illusion of an aggressive assault when in reality he's handling you like a piece of glass.

but you're doing this right after a day's work, and you have to blame your stupid mouth for running off without command and casually asking him if he could visit your apartment to go over the scene. in late hours of the night. in what can be interpreted as a much more scandalous suggestion.

thankfully, you're not dealing with childe so you're spared from wiggling eyebrows or phrases with flirty implications.

but him being ayato doesn't make it any easier.

“don't you feel embarrassed making out on screen...?” you laugh awkwardly in an attempt to ignore the weird tension in the air, slightly overwhelmed by his intense gaze. “i know you've done this several times, but i imagine the awkwardness never wears off.”

“not quite,” he agrees. “but a job is a job... i say that, but i'd like to make it comfortable for you, if possible. how are you faring? do you need a break?” he sits up, allowing more distance in the space between you. you shake your head.

“i'm fine. just... nervous. it's my first time doing a bedroom scene...” you look off to the side, staring at the lights beyond your window. though you're in the comfort of your own room, having an unfamiliar man on your bed makes it all feel so strange.

...as you thought, it really was weird to invite a co-actor to your bed! eh? would booking a hotel be better? but isn't it overboard to go to a hotel for practice? inviting him to your apartment is equally as bad, though?!

“all the cameramen watching can be pressuring,” he adds in afterthought, releasing one of your wrists only to pin it with a single hand. you flinch a little when his fingers skim over your cheek, but you slowly relax into the heat. “it's best if you try to forget about them.”

“i'm afraid that's easier said than done,” you murmur, voice growing weaker as he leans down once more.

“really? i consider myself a decent kisser.” he grins, sly and confident. “i'm certain i can keep other things off your mind for a while.”

“wh- i'm not supposed to enjoy it, remember?!” you squawk indignantly with flushed cheeks. he relishes in your reaction, chuckling lowly.

“oh? my bad. you'll have to work hard acting like you don't like it, then.”

his lips hover above yours, breaths mingling with each other. the proximity catches you off guard but his hand is a steady weight holding you in place, urging you to look at him.

“don't think about anyone else. just focus on me.”

五 ; scaramouche, the best friend

“fantastic. i was also looking forward to a drama adaption but you've already ruined it for me.”

“that's not nice! you're supposed to congratulate me for passing the audition!”

“my courtesy towards you has already expired 5 years ago.”

“yes. you've made that very apparent.”

“have i also made my ire apparent? it's like the universe is telling me seeing you everyday isn't enough, i have to see you on television too. frankly, we see too much of each other.”

“you say that but you're the one coming over my apartment uninvited.”

“this is where i store my beer.”

scaramouche has a perfectly functional fridge so you know he's only doing that as an excuse. he's been this way for 8 years. (of course, he'd only been storing milk at your house when you were both still underage.)

(the milk didn't do any favors for his height, unfortunately.)

his words are as harsh as ever but believe it or not, he's your closest friend. not that he'd ever admit it, even at gunpoint. it's a feat you should add to your resume, honestly, because as far as you know, you're one of the few people he doesn't hate.

he tolerates you enough that he can practice your lines with you (with enough pressure), though he delivers his part of the script with such dispassion it makes it difficult for you to get into the mood. but in his own brand of patience, he lets you reiterate your lines an endless amount of times until you feel like you get it right.

he helps you with expressions too, albeit in a manner you find hard to appreciate.

“you look like you're constipated, not about to cry.”

“your jaw is hanging open. want to catch a fly with your tongue? act like you caught your husband cheating, not like you're about to eat half my burger when you said you'd only take a bite.”

(personal grudges were involved.)

he's not interested in the film industry at all, but he was the one who pushed you to pursue your dreams when everyone else was discouraging you from taking an unstable career. he's your pillar of support; even if he's glaring at you scathingly or giving cutting words matter-of-factly, he's all bark and no bite. the moment you shed tears, he's already pulling you to his chest, remaining silent as he rubs comforting circles on your back. he doesn't even complain when you bury your face to hide in his neck, soaking his shirt with tears.

underneath all that layers, he's pretty nice.

(admittedly, you have to dig real deep.)

when you're smiling and happy, however, he takes the chance to complain. sneering, he blurts, “what's up with you taking roles in romance dramas all the time? besides, you're way too old to be in high school.”

“i still look fresh.” you batted your eyelashes at him, celebrating inwardly when he made a scandalized noise. “but i'm auditioning for a different role soon. if i get it, you'll see me as a murder victim instead of a high schooler.”

two weeks later, you get the e-mail confirming the love interest role. scaramouche goes so pale you consider taking him to the hospital.

“i know the journalist is your favorite character, but aren't you overreacting? do you hate me acting as them that much?”

he rolls his eyes so hard you almost think they're going to be permanently pointed heavenward. “are you stupid? that's not what i'm worried about. wouldn't you have to- you know- do that scene-”

“which one?”

“...the hotel scene...”

ah. well that certainly is a cause for concern. it's steamier than what you're used to; so far, you've only done light pecks or kisses that don't last too long. bedroom scenes are definitely foreign territory.

“i can only hope my partner is good-looking, then. i wouldn't mind it, if that's the case.” you laugh sheepishly, missing the way his eyes narrow in disapproval.

“...whatever. suit yourself.”

“don't tell me you still feel weird about kissing scenes?”

“i don't have issues with kissing scenes. i just don't want to see you sucking face on tv.”

“don't use that word! it's too vulgar!”

as part of work, it's inevitable you have to do a kissing scene here and there. scaramouche has never been fond of seeing them, turning away from the television or excusing himself to the bathroom whenever they come up. it's a reaction you can sympathize with; it is rather awkward to see your friend making out with someone on screen.

but he especially detests the old recording of your high school play.

long, long ago, you were part of the drama club. by association, scaramouche became a member as well—the pair of you were considered as a package deal. he was your practice partner so often that he got forced into joining.

he'd die before he ever tells anyone, but he had a knack for playing villains back then, specialized in wicked cackling and bone-chilling monologues reeking of depravity.

but in your final year, he got roped into playing the prince when the original actor sprained his ankle. incidentally, you happened to be playing the damsel in distress in your (pretty much unrecognizable) rendition of sleeping beauty.

“why is the prince shorter than-” before you could end your statement, he already slammed your face with the script.

the play was a hot mess. scaramouche couldn't play a decent prince for the life of him, so your club made the play a comedy and reworked the entire script to fit him better. the valiant and heroic character became satirical, forced into saving you not for love but to fulfill a prophecy that definitely wasn't in the original sleeping beauty.

the audience was taking the change well, intrigued by the bizarre twists and turns. the huffing-puffing prince was hilarious to watch, too.

it wasn't long before you laid in the casket, blinded by stage lights even with your eyes closed. the cardboard dragon had already been defeated, and the prince was fast approaching.

to your utter distaste, it was decided the prince would slap you awake. so you prepared for it when the last lines were being said, bracing for the stinging pain.

but then there was a rise in pitch, nearing to a yelp, then a loud thud, then the weight of two hands pressing on either side of your head, and-

your lips were touching something soft and warm.

the squeals and yells reverberated in the whole theater, the narrator stammering awkwardly and improvising ad libs last minute. your eyes snapped open and you'd gotten a front row seat to see scaramouche's blushing face, an explosion of pink dancing across his features.

after the play wrapped up and he peeled off the ridiculously frilly prince costume, he'd been set on destroying every record—alas, your friends weren't so keen on deleting such good footage. to this day, he still bristled at the thought of it; his and your first kiss showcased to hundreds of people.

it's harder to endure when he sees you kissing someone else, however. he never gets used to it, no matter how many times he tells himself to.

“oh, finally. it took so long for them to get together,” his co-worker groans as he watches the tv at the break room, airing the latest episode of the drama you star in. scaramouche glances at the screen, turning away when the camera flits to the boy with ashy brown hair. he's touching your face for the millionth time, bright teal eyes staring into yours so deeply scaramouche almost thinks he's actually besotted with you.

“you're not watching? i thought you liked this series?”

“i don't.”

for his own sake, he doesn't give the tv another glance, stepping out of the room.

this is fine. it's not the first time he's felt like this.

(it doesn't feel any less terrible.)

六 ; thoma, the former male lead

there are as many aspiring actors as there are stars in the sky; it's unfortunate only some of them shine brightly enough to be noticeable, and the rest twinkling weakly in miniscule dots.

for your case, and for your friend thoma's, you belong to the latter.

thoma is handsome, that much you can see with your own eyes, but a pretty face can be found anywhere in the industry—he lacks that special something that makes him stand out. that being said, you don't have it either, so you're on the same boat.

you're best pals, comrades in arms, partners in crime.

actual partners. once. for a romance drama.

(but not the main characters. just an obligatory side pairing, of course. you're the rebound for the second male lead.)

it was your first work, and you'd rather delete your existence than watch it again. hopefully, that also erases your dark history.

your... amateurish acting had been unsightly. the innocence you portrayed wasn't lovely, just a ghastly display of incoherent mumbling and lack of comedic timing. you wanted to tear apart each clip and toss it in some imaginary ditch where nobody can find it again.

thoma's performance wasn't as severe as yours. it wasn't half-bad, almost decent if not for the scant instances of awkwardness in scenes that required more emotional acting.

alas, the end product was just about what you expected; a series no one paid attention to. both a relief and a disappointment, because even if you hated it with every inch of your being, the effort you poured into practice and filming was real.

but after the drama ended, you kept in close contact with thoma, chugging down beer at dinners as you complained to each other about work. failed auditions, mistakes in filming, inability to get roles—you shared everything, and he did the same. each moment of embarrassment and each moment of breakthrough that called for a celebration, you told each other. through thick and thin, you had the other's back.

naturally, he was one of the first few people you called (second only to your manager) when you received the e-mail confirming your role as the love interest for arguably one of the most anticipated series to date.

he'd been overjoyed, above all, his elation overruling his surprise; it was a far cry from other violent reactions. (“are you sure it's not a prank?” scaramouche had said in disbelief.)

“you're finally going to be acknowledged!” gleefully, thoma chattered on, “that's the best news i've heard all year!”

and that was good. it was nice having his support. he'd been the one to give you a pep talk before you had to start rehearsals, soothing your fretful worries.

when you don't understand the essence of a particular scene, he's more than happy to help—“i'm just one call away!”

when you fumble your lines on camera, he laughs but not with mockery (a stark contrast to that little gremlin scaramouche)—“it's no big deal. you only have to do your best tomorrow.”

when you recount your experiences working with famous actors, he listens attentively—“you're starting to get along, huh?”

and then you would hesitate. it sounds like you're... bragging.

he says he's only one call away, but he's busy with his own work; still, he makes time for you. he listens whenever you complain, but he has bigger problems, ones that he doesn't say because he knows it'll dampen your mood. he has to hear about you acquainting with celebrities he can't even dream of meeting, like you're showing him the things he can't have.

you got lucky. what about him?

slowly, your face bleeds to commercials, advertisement banners, even huge outdoor LED displays on shopping malls featuring the drama cast—yet he remains as a blurry, nameless figure in the sea of aspiring actors.

he doesn't show it, doesn't even hint at it, but he must be... envious, right?

it's not hard to be. you've been in the industry for the same amount of time, began at the same starting line, yet only one of you found success, the other one left behind in the dust.

still. still. he never shows it. never stops being your biggest fan. never lets you think otherwise. he watches every episode, every interview. babbles how amazing your performance was in this scene. rambles how you did so well in this drama and he's so proud of you. smiles at how you have to wear a disguise now whenever you go out together so nobody can recognize you.

“it must be hard,” he comments as you hide in a secluded park, nearly getting found out by someone you noticed following you around. “you can't get around as freely anymore. are you okay? nobody follows you home or anything?”

always the worrier, you think. “of course not. my manager drives me around everywhere these days. you don't have to worry.”

thoma grins, plopping down at a bench. “that's a relief.”

for a moment, you just sit in silence, basking in the slight chilly air. the orange and pinks of sunset darken to streaks of blue, streetlights flickering to life.

“...did you know there are rumors of you dating xiao?”

you choke on air, coughing to your fist. “what?!” not that you feel flattered. not at all. (you've badgered xiao to come with you to the carnival last week, and then the waterpark a week before that with the rest of the cast, and- well. you suppose there's reason for people to speculate. you also wore matching animal headbands—how on earth you got xiao to do that, you're not sure either.)“why did that- how did it come to that?!”

“it's surprising for me, too,” thoma says. “if anything, i'd expect dating rumors with the actual male lead. or childe. he seems... particularly clingy.”

“albedo? there's no way he'd like someone like me.” you furrow your brows. if anything, it's only gotten awkward between the two of you ever since the confession scene. “ajax... well. i never know with him.” you honestly can't tell if he's flirting or not.

thoma laughs, eyes crinkling with mirth. “you look close with all of them. if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were acting a romance film outside of the project.”

you shudder. “if, and only if, i end up dating one of them, i'll attract all kinds of bad attention. it's not even good PR. i'd hate to think of all the fan girls who'll start cursing me, stealing their man and all that. hell, i'm not even dating anybody and i'm already being cursed.”

“i'll reply to every single mean comment and defend your honor.”

you snort. “do you even have the time for that?”

“...unfortunately, yes. i'm not receiving much work at the moment.”

oh.

fuck.

“i can... i can recommend you to the director. i heard he's starting a new project soon, so maybe-”

thoma frowns and you ground to a halt. “it's fine. i don't want you to do that for me.”

it sounds like you're pitying him. like you don't trust him to rise on his own.

but you want to help.

“is this why you look sad around me every so often?” he realizes, astonished.

“i... can't help but feel guilty,” you admit, unable to maintain eye contact. “every time i say a silly story about xiao, or ajax, or albedo, i feel like i'm showing off. every time i complain, you never try to compare, you only comfort me and never tell me about your problems. i want to do something for you, but i don't know what. i care about you, and i want you to do well because i know how talented you are. except everyone else doesn't, and i want them to see you.”

it's not fair. he's putting in the effort. the same as you are. but it's still not working out for him, and it's not fair.

“you... want to help me?”

you manage a weak nod. you hear an intake of breath, feel him shuffling closer. then he places his hand on top of your clenched fist.

“[name]. can you look at me?”

slowly, you raise your head. his green eyes are shining so brilliantly, bright emeralds gleaming in the moonlight.

yet they also seem... resigned.

“you're really nice, [name]. but you don't have to feel guilty. it's not your fault i'm still like this, and i'm already thankful you're worrying about me. i can't say that i was entirely... not jealous of what you have now, but that's just my problem. so you don't have to make that face, okay?”

he smiles, just like always. you open your mouth to respond, but then you feel that sensation again—that prickle at the back of your neck, the feeling that makes your hair stand on end.

“you're kind.” his hand cradles your cheek ever so softly, tenderly. your lashes tremble, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings. “that's why... i hope you can forgive me.”

this position is familiar. you know this, because you've experienced this before.

long long ago, just when you started your career, you'd practiced this scene with him in the dressing room—hearts pounding, hands awkwardly finding their places;

your lips brushing together in a shy kiss.

now, his fingers are carding through your hair, the closest he's ever been to you in years. you flinch, gripping his shirt, uncomprehending, and-

you hear it.

the shutter of a camera.

七 ; kazuha, the murderer

the first time you heard a complete newbie would act the murderer role, you were in disbelief.

alright, you were an unremarkable actor before your current role, but at the very least, you had experience. not only is this person entirely new to the industry, having nothing to show for himself, he's an amateur. it sounds like a recipe for disaster.

it's even more baffling when you discover ayato, THE kamisato ayato, tried for the role and didn't get it. who the hell is this newbie? someone who got in through nepotism? preposterous! the murderer is an incredibly important character to the plot, the whole series would be ruined if he turned out to be awful!

and then you see who he actually is, and oh boy, he does not look like a murderer.

he's more like a harmless bunny. fluffy white hair, round red eyes, a polite disposition—did you arrive at the wrong set, kid? maybe you were aiming for the high school romance drama and came here by mistake?

the webtoon murderer was no pretty boy. just an average-looking dude working at a convenience store nobody suspected to be the killer because of his unassuming looks, and that was the point. yet this eye-catching hottie is the complete opposite.

but everyone else in the cast is hot as hell, so maybe the murderer needs to be hot too so he can blend in??? director, what exactly did you have in mind?

“[name]!” just as you were staring at him, he turns and notices your gaze, expression immediately brightening. like an innocent baby chick, he walks up to you. “good morning.”

it's another day of rehearsals for the upcoming episode. so far, you haven't gotten to see his true skills yet—the most he's done is act like an ordinary extra part of the background and out of the limelight. it's understandable, since his character doesn't appear much until halfway through the series.

“kazuha,” you acknowledge him, still a little unused to his... general stickiness. you don't know what he found so appealing about you but he's taken to sticking by your side most of the time. childe has teased you more than once that perhaps the little chick has a crush on you.

“do you want to eat lunch together? i know a good fried chicken place.” so it's cannibalism now?

you agree to go anyway because fried chicken sounds great. plus, as much as you came to find that even celebrities are just regular people and you managed to befriend a lot of them, there's a sense of comfort in kazuha—he's the one you felt least intimidated by.

even if you text xiao for hours now, or come over to childe's house frequently, or go on food trips with albedo, or go clothes shopping with ayato and his sister, they're still people you can't get close to without boundaries. there's still a sense of distance separating you, one that you can't cross, but can happily do so with kazuha.

being with kazuha is just comfortable. there's never a need for formalities, and rather than co-workers, you feel closer to being friends.

sometimes, you feel as if you're babysitting though. he just... screams youth. holds the freshness of an amateur, clutching to naive hopes and wishes in the path of stardom. it's endearing to see, and it's like seeing a younger version of yourself.

it's a shame you've buried those naive wishes long ago, but you hope kazuha's career goes well for him. this drama will undoubtedly be a big boost for his popularity, but will also backlash on him if he performs horribly.

“this is my treat.” kazuha pushes the plate of chicken fingers to your side of the table, eyes shaped in smiling crescents.

you shake your head but take one nonetheless. “what kind of senior would i be to make you pay? order all you want, it's on me.”

kazuha doesn't pout but comes close to it, sulking as he bites on a piece of korean bburinkle chicken. “i can't tell if you're doing this on purpose.”

“doing what?”

“letting me off easy.”

...? this kid says some pretty strange things sometimes.

“i'll order some drinks. what do you want?” he offers, standing up.

“iced tea is fine.”

“got it.”

as he moves, his wallet drops on the floor. you're about to tell him so but you think better of it, already considering the possibility of kazuha sneakily paying for your meal on the counter and ordering drinks as an excuse.

you sigh, bending down to pick it up from the ground, but the wallet faces up, revealing the contents.

the first thing you see is your face.

you nearly jolt and hit your head on the table in shock, but you manage to suppress your surprise in a garbled mess of choking. this photo is... from that modeling gig you did a year ago. but why is it in kazuha's wallet-?!

you quickly put it back on the table, just in time for kazuha to arrive. he raises an eyebrow at your flustered expression but doesn't mention anything.

he makes a face seeing the wallet he forgot on the table. you were right after all.

later, as you return to set and practice ends after a few more hours, you recount the order of events to xiao, who could not be anymore uninterested at your entire spiel. perhaps childe would've made a more engaging conversation partner, but you'd rather not deal with his teasing right now.

“-and my face was right there! as his wallet photo! what the hell does that mean?!” years ago, you never could've guessed you'd ever be able to rant to xiao's face like this. yet here you are, unashamed in front of your idol.

“isn't it obvious?” xiao isn't even pretending like he's giving you his full attention anymore, hands preoccupied with the game console in his hands. “he likes you.”

“???”

xiao sighs, dead fish eyes looking straight at your clueless expression. “don't you have a photo of me in your wallet? that's the same thing.”

“that is certainly not the same thing! you're- xiao, and i'm just me. you're popular.”

xiao almost rolls his eyes. you're way too humble for someone who gets recognized by people on the street daily. “congrats, then. you met one of your rare fans.”

that was an unbelievable thought, before. you? having a fan? whenever you searched up your name, you couldn't find anyone talking about you. your character is different; you're looking for people who's interested in you as a person, not just your role.

now, though. you've accumulated enough fame for a fan club. several maybe, even.

... but even then. that modeling gig hadn't been successful. only someone who knew about it a year ago would know about it now, since it faded from the internet pretty fast.

as far as you know, you didn't have fans a year ago.

xiao makes a realization. “...isn't this the fourth time he invited you to lunch this week?”

“yeah?”

“.....isn't he just hitting on you then?”

now that's just not in the realm of possibility. xiao is so funny.

“he literally baked you cookies the other day.”

“friends give each other cookies, xiao. i can even make some for you if you want.”

“they were heart-shaped, [name].”

(you end up making him cookies to prove a point.)

days pass by, xiao giving you increasingly odd looks, and kazuha finally proves his worth in filming.

his performance rivals that of albedo's—the soft edges of his eyes sharpening into something menacing, gaze cold and apathetic, his lips downturned to an unfamiliar sneer. you're watching the birth of a star, and it's only a matter of time before his talent will be acknowledged.

he's different from ayato as a villain. ayato is cunning, the perfect example of a mastermind. malicious and dripping with spite. but kazuha looks innocent, a cute little bun you'd never guess can make those kind of facial expressions—twisted, vicious, malevolent.

it's part of the act, but you flinch when his character turns violent; kicking down doors, smashing glass windows with a bat. holding the extras acting as murder victims by grabbing them by the hair, throwing down cops like they weighed nothing.

and then right after that scene concludes with the director's “cut!”, with (fake) blood still splattered on his face, kazuha runs up to you grinning innocently, fishing for compliments. “did i do good?”

nevertheless, you give him headpats. “you're terrifying.”

he flushes, not too pleased giving that impression to you. the next day, he acts all sweet to you again, giving you a batch of cream puffs this time. xiao snorts somewhere in the background.

eventually, your manager notices the snacks you receive regularly. “oh, it's from that kid?”

“kazuha? mhm.” you nibble happily on the pastries.

your manager chuckles. “never thought i'd see him again here.”

“...what do you mean?” blinking owlishly, you pause from chowing down. “you know him?”

“he used to work at the bakery you went to often before, didn't he? the kid you kept telling to watch your first drama. you forced him to watch the episodes on your phone during his break.”

...............FUCK.

you do remember doing something that stupid. during the filming of your first drama, you frequently stopped by at a nearby bakery to buy snacks, and you remember there was a cute kid working there. you often pinched his cheeks and cajoled him into watching the series.

but when filming ended, you couldn't go to the bakery anymore. the filming location was far from your house, and the bakery was simply out of the way.

did that kid... kazuha... support you all this time? from that early on?

you curse your manager for telling you this right before filming. your mind is a mess, having trouble connecting that cute, precious child (why are you always calling him a kid, he's barely 2 years younger than you) to the smooth and flirty man today.

it's an important scene today too! the confrontation between the detective, his partner, and the murderer. it needs your complete concentration, and you just don't have it right now. you've never seen the director lose his temper, but you can probably manage to do it today.

albedo is performing well in front of the cameras as always, so much like a protagonist that you feel like you're watching from a television screen already. but you have a job to do too, so you do your best in the spotlight, pretending to be unaffected.

kazuha looks even scarier up close, so unhinged and unreadable. you know what his next move will be, written on the script, but that doesn't make you any less uneasy.

“you're bold,” kazuha drawls, playing with the knife in his hand, “coming to see me by yourselves.”

you can hear what he's saying, but it feels like your head is full of cotton. why are you so distracted? “so it really is you,” you speak, praising yourself for acting normally.

the other two exchange lines, and you thank the heavens you're mostly silent for the time being. for the meantime, you have a few moments to collect yourself; there's a chase right after this, and you'd rather not do something stupid like trip over yourself in the middle of something so serious.

...

sometimes, you're gifted with foresight.

but! to be fair! you did not trip over yourself! the staff forgot to fix the cables in one part of the set, and you tripped over those. so no. not entirely your fault.

albedo is too far away—he's on the side trying to unlock the doors with his brain powers somehow, and you're the bait distracting the murderer before he does so.

ordinarily, you would not trip over the cables. you have able eyes, and you could easily step over them. but you're at the stairs.

...you're at the flight of stairs. and you're about to fall over. FUCK. WHY DID THE DIRECTOR WANT A CHASE SCENE IN THE STAIRS.

you brace for the impact, hands outstretched, but then in a complete break of character, kazuha reaches for you.

you're leaning too far to the edge now. there's no way to pull you back to even ground. kazuha grits his teeth, pulling you to his chest, and in an immense show of strength, twists around so he'd be beneath you.

you descend in a disgraceful tangle of limbs. you're enveloped in a warm embrace, cheek resting on a firm chest. a chin is tucked into the crook of your neck, heavy breaths tickling the skin of your shoulder.

you jolt back to action when you realize what just happened. “your head-!” you scramble to touch his head, feeling for any bumps or even worse, blood. kazuha hisses, so you soften the touch, tracing over this body to check for other injuries. he became a literal mattress. “what about your back? did you get sprained anywhere?”

“i'm fine,” kazuha wheezes under your caressing.

“you don't sound fine! who are you trying to fool? you didn't have to do that!” you grab his cheeks. they're as soft as ever, just as pinch-able as you remember.

“i'm not hurt. it's because you're... on top of me...” bashfully, he looks away. you blink, glancing down at your position. you're straddling his hips, at a proximity entirely inappropriate.

...his hands are still on your waist.

this kazuha is too different from two minutes ago! wasn't he just chasing you down the corridor in murderous intent?! now he's blushing underneath you, like a pure maiden you defiled!

what's with this soft, sugary atmosphere?! last time you remembered, this was a murder mystery drama!

(when the drama ends, you're casted for a romance college series with kazuha as the male lead. figures.)

---