A Touya-dabi Timeline In Aesthetics Of A Failed Romance

◇ After five years together with Midoriya, you find yourself newly single and heartbroken. When he starts dating again, you shout a bold-faced lie to the universe that wraps you and Katsuki Bakugou together for better or worse. In order to save face, you need to work together with the grumpiest man on the planet.

◇ Verity (noun): The quality or state of being truthful or honest. Also your Hero Name to go along with your quirk of forcing others to tell the truth.

ProHero!Bakugou x Fem!Reader (Brief Midoriya x Reader)

◈ Pro Hero, Fake engagement

!!: angst, sex, cheating

Normally updates Tuesdays and Fridays at 3pm PST

◇ Chapter 1: It Starts With a Breakup

◇ Chapter 2: Life Goes On

◇ Chapter 3: Always Second Place

◇ Chapter 4 - Coming September 6, 3pm PST

◇ Chapter 5

◇ Chapter 6 (18+)

◇ Chapter 7

◇ Chapter 8

◇ Chapter 9 (18+)

◇ Chapter 10

◇ Chapter 11

◇ Chapter 12

◇ Epilogue

Tag List: @thatfanfictionwriter , @loving-katsuki , @dienamights , @katditca , @boosyboo9206 , @alex-sulli , @hypernovaxx , @daddyissxes , @ti-mame , @thekaylahub , @ms0milk , @nerd-nowandforever , @minninugget , @tiny-wooden-robot , @icedemon1314 , @xviternity , @naiomiwinchester , @lovinkiri , @sincerelyyrosemary , @abnormalanimeweeb , @satogg , @liberace2 , @acid-rain27 , @itgetzweird08 , @chaoticorganizedmess , @neurovascular-entrapta , @kiwiified , @bnha-free-writing , @fishbolw , @xxkay15xx , @zombiewarprincess , @izuwumidoriya , @blue-enigma , @mommy-without-milkers , @plaggi , @budibbly , @hiqhkey , @great-goddess-of-sin, @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory , @zyxys1 , @doonaandpjs , @chifuyus-slut , @aceredhairliberal , @dxrkdreamer ,

OMFG yes!

Being in love with a guy who doesn't even exist kinda hurts :')

i didn’t ask to be this much in love with a fictional character but there he is and here i am

Kintsugi (1)

: "to repair with gold"

Scaramouche / Wanderer x First Puppet Reader

Based off of this plot with major alterations; After his third betrayal, he stumbles upon the one thing that would never deceive him. Not a god, not a human; a broken puppet, discarded just like him. Part 2.

He had heard of this tale multiple times by now, all in different versions and walks of life.

From his bladesmith friend who recounted the tale of a statue that guards a sakura tree in a faraway village in Tatarasuna, and that those who dare harm either of the two meet a fate most foul. But he remembered it only as a made up story, ever spoken to him once as a bedtime story and forgotten soon after.

Another iteration the puppet heard was of a beautiful ghost, who had died by the tree and lingered since then as a spirit awaiting its lover. Its doll-like feature had left many humans falling for the specter, while some find it tradition to leave offerings for love and fortune. He remembered shaking his head as he turned away from the intoxicated villager, focusing on bringing the lavender melons back home.

And the last one came from someone old, with a wrinkled smile shy of teeth, and eyes perpetually closed. When the elder heard of the versions he had recounted, he could not help but laugh, despite the scathing glare sent his way.

"None of those versions are true." But how can he be so sure? "There is one more, while we cannot verify its authenticity, it is at least the first one to ever exist." And he with his straw hat followed after the mortal as they walked.

The guardian of eternal slumber, is a tale of a puppet (to this, he perked up) who wondered into the village in search of something. Upon seeing the sakura tree, they made home at its roots, dutifully waiting. Generations came and went, but neither of its visitors could ever sway it to leave.

Soon enough, the villagers began leaving items in sympathy of the lonely puppet. And if it is up to its unspoken standards, the puppet would open its eyes. Zealots began to view that gaze as divine, and preached that those who were to see it are blessed.

Gifts became offerings, and visitors all over Inazuma went out of their way for a chance to be blessed with fortune.

He and the old man found themselves in a scarce village, of rundown houses and deathly silence. "But in the greed of desperate devotees, one group decided to steal the puppet one night in hopes of monopolizing the blessings." They passed by the only house that looked functional. "Lightning struck our sakura tree and the village's lands began to lose life. The criminals were never found."

The puppet only comprehended the darkened grass flattening under their steps, dried out and crumbling from the pressure. But he could not pay it any more mind as they reached a staircase, leading up a hill where a sakura tree in full bloom resides.

"You are like them." His violet gaze turned sharp and his attempts to climb the steps stopped. "May you both find what you're looking for."

"Musings of an old man." His moves forward, fingers clenching his sleeves in contempt and anticipation. "What I'm looking for is beyond your understanding." There is no reply.

When the base of the tree slowly appeared over the horizon, the sakura tree began shedding its leaves in with the gust of the wind. And he found himself stopping at the last step upon meeting eyes with a visage.

Never had he felt such hopeful and wide gaze on him before, framed by the pink shower of sakura petals both old and new where they sat, pulling one's attention away from the dead vines and clinging dust.

But as quickly as it came, the smile on their face slowly fades.

And those eyes once brimming with hope turned to hate so searing, it burned him more than the hate in his empty chest.

"Have we truly exhausted all our options?" A passing wind felt like a gentle caress, swaying the pink petals above to a comforting, simple melody.

The sakura tree stands tall and beautiful, gaze unable to look away, its color flooding your vision successfully.

"Quell your doubts now, the proof is already in your arms." The soft cloth cradling you moves, prompting your gaze to look up, from pink to purple hues.

"It is nothing short of miraculous." She's more beautiful than the sakura tree. You blink at her, she smiles. And warm too, even more so when she cradles you closer, the softness of her embrace and kimono lulling you to sleep. "The proof of eternity."

Your face was half-buried by the silken cloths as you simply watched closely, your creator and another person's conversation passing. At one point, you reached out to take a petal that landed on your creator's sleeve. She smiles again.

"Then I shall be in your care." You curl your fingers around the petal as a soft hand covers your eyes.

"It is my duty, Ei."

Stumbling out of the dark room into an empty world shrouded by the night, you clutched the pink petal close to your chest as you set out for your creator.

Blindly stumbling in the dark, in your haste and desperation, you find your feet take you to a familiar sight. A pretty sakura tree, just as beautiful as the one you've seen. And so you sat between roots, waiting for your mother.

You haven't heard footsteps in a long time, was the first thing that came into your mind as you rubbed at your eyes with your haori. How long has it been since you last woke up?

Yet despite your tired eyes and blurry vision, that familiar shade of purple began to climb the stairs.

Could it be? After all this time, she's finally -

The weakness in your knees were more than the fatigue, as your smile fell in realization that it wasn't her.

But those eyes, that hair - that faltering smile.

There is emptiness, no purchase, no purpose - to your steps as your legs carried you to walk away from the tree, down the steps, away from here. Anywhere, anywhere else but here.

The puppet sputters as he turns to your retreating form, only for his attention to be divided as the old man found his way over to the tree, sitting on the root where he had seen you perched on.

"The sakura tree has shed its last leaf." The old man looks up at the empty branches before looking at him. "Go after them, there is nothing left here to see." And closed his eyes.

He turns to follow and never looked back.

She left you. She abandoned you. She's forgotten you. She replaced you.

It doesn't take a child to come to that conclusion and they echo in your mind repeatedly in every waking moment.

"Where are we going?" You dug your foot harshly in the sand before turning around, watching his eyes that scanned the area to land on you.

"Why are you still following me?" You watched his curious eyes widen to perplexity, lips parting and closing as he scrambles to find the right answer. Only a few seconds pass before you turn again and resume your walk.

You wouldn't be able to answer him either.

Your desire to get away from him was never answered either, opting to follow the footprints in the sand for hours upon hours. At times, you'd find yourself stumbling when your joints struggled to follow orders. You'd hear him mumble, make noise, but they stop after you brush off the incident and continue.

This was the first time he addressed you, and this was the first time you talked.

That was also the only time you looked at him - and nothing had changed. He still looked like her, the same presence, the same energy.

She replaced you?

Looking over your shoulder, you chanced another glance to see his gaze elsewhere again, as if looking out for something. Only then did you notice a transparent cloth folded, hung, and tucked beneath an arm.

"Are you certain you are fine with that attire?" His attention was on you again, looking over your form. At your glare, he seemed to backtrack after realizing the misunderstanding. "I mean no harm, I'm simply mentioning due to your... Exposed joints and the petals hanging on your form."

If you could only see yourself in his perspective. Perhaps it was due to being divine creations but despite the unsightly details that clung to you (no doubt due to time), there is still a magnificence to you that made you look ethereal.

He supposes that would make sense, as you are worthy of folklore and tales.

He watched as you gingerly rubbed at your left wrist's joint (he had yet to see you ease your curled up left hand) while his eyes lingered on the pink sakura blooms that's found home in your hair and the folds of your clothes.

Whenever he closed his eyes, it feels like he's still standing next to the sakura tree, the sweet scent permanently lingering so long as you're nearby. It's soothing.

With a raised brow, you looked at him with questioning eyes. A good sign, and he finds that you looked much better without a glare.

"Not all humans are open to the concepts of our existence." The gloom fading the light in his eyes doesn't sit right with you. "It would be best to cover up."

It was only then that you noticed the black arm guards conveniently covering his wrists. But what can you use to hide them here?

Watching your eyes scan the area for something, the second puppet stepped close and unfolded the cloth in arm to reveal a very long but beautiful veil. "While it's still transparent, it should be good enough to at least camouflage it." What a beautiful shade of purple. "May I?"

You do not miss the eagerness in his eyes, hands clutching the cloth in waiting. It's the best you can do for now, you thought as you bowed your head.

He was expecting a glare, a refusal, anything to dispel his suggestion. But the moment the agreement registered in his head, he quickly but carefully draped the veil over your head like he had worn before.

You gasped when the cloth almost slipped off when you straightened up, only for his hands to pull it over again. "Careful, perhaps we can find pins to keep it in place."

Your gaze lingered at the hands close to you. Porcelain white and perfectly unharmed. You reached up - with a hand littered with cuts and creaky movement - before pushing his hands off as you turn to walk again.

You hear him gasp, pause, and his footsteps follows behind you again.

She may have replaced you.

But she abandoned you both.

He doesn't miss the way you pull the veil over your face whenever you look at him.

Even now when you accept the lavender melon slice to eat. At one point, he had forgotten that puppets need not eat, but before he could fix his mistake you took the food and ate like normal.

Perhaps you had gotten used to the offerings given to you back at the village, just like how you carried the mora you received despite not knowing how to use it. Something you easily lent him at the promise of necessities.

His eyes lingered on your wrists and ankles where the black guards now cover it. And then to the veil that had lost its purpose, or at least, its initial purpose. (With his kasa, he also sees no purpose to take it back.)

He also bought you a new yukata to replace your old one but - "It's still not fully dried, it seems." His eyes lingered on the damp purple haori he had hanged on one of the branches, the only clothing you refused to part with. He took the liberty to wash it seeing as he knew how to, and he was more than estatic when he realized the scent of the sakura blooms still stuck to it.

That, and there's not much one can do with just one hand.

Sitting next to you, he watches as the hand resting on the grassy floor hides underneath the veil. Still clenched to a fist, still hiding.

He must have been staring obviously when you finally spoke. "I can't open it."

His eyes met your veiled ones before looking back to your hand - and then he quickly looks away despite his gaze still glancing in the corner of his eyes. He's flustered for being caught, you recognize the shyness.

"Then... Can I try and help with prying it open?" He is too curious for his own good.

Despite your nod, you make no move to pull your hand from under the veil. More so, you simply looked back to watching the clouds pass. Alright, it's up to him then.

Mumbling a please excuse me, he swipes the veil away to take your hand. He feels a slight flinch but continued on without any other sign of discomfort.

Your fingers are stuck close. He knows it's not intentional when there's no tension in your arm that indicates you're forcing it closed. So you weren't lying, he pursed his lips as he began nudging and uncurling each finger.

For each digit he takes time to flex each section to alleviate the jagged, mechanical movement. Before he could lose himself to the tender proximity, something on your finally open palm catches his eyes.

A sakura petal. Creased on some places but still looking fresh.

"Mother..." He sees you mouth before the fingers slowly curled around the pink blossom.

He doesn't ask anything further. Not when his feather necklace weighs heavily in his own pocket.

"Why are you still here?" You ask again. This time, he does not miss the question you wanted to ask.

This time he speaks. "I would never abandon you." Because you only have each other now.

It was your turn to become quiet.

Only the wind through the leaves dared to break the silence.

Sora. Sakura. Aoi. Haru. Hana. Kami.

You bow your head to look at the black fan in your hand. Sensu.

Feeling the gaze of someone's attention on you, your furrowed brows deepened as you unfolded the fan to cover the lower half of your face, turning to the other puppet sitting by the hill with you.

His purple gaze took time to register the eye contact that told him he was caught staring, and when he did his small smile faded in his fluster, turning to hide in the open book he was supposed to be reading. Was he basking in your frustrations? Perhaps he was, especially since it was his own doing that caused this turmoil to begin with.

In your wandering, you came across a bustling small town that he decided to walk through instead of around for once. Mostly because of the approaching rain clouds that threatens to soak your perfectly dry selves, and through your joints and cracks - there was an incident before that he didn't want to deal with again, didn't want to be careless of your condition when it not only deterred you from properly functioning but from also looking at him with kinder eyes.

But the pretty stalls, the whispers and shouts, it was all drawing your attention. He learned from the long trips you two had done that there was a lot of things you have yet to discover, see for yourself, after staying by the Sakura tree for hundreds of years. A festival seems to be one of those.

He took note of the way your eyes lingered on interesting things, familiar objects, counted your pocket money and bought what might look cheap enough to spare. Like a kanzashi that you used to fasten the veil to your haori, a stick of tricolor dango that he gently blew on when he thought it was still too hot.

And lastly - he watched your gaze linger on a black folding fan in display, eyes solemn in comparison to the other many things that caught your eye. He can tell why, simply because he knows what it meant too. His memories with her are far and few but he remembers them in full detail, they haunt his dreams every night, after all. "We should -"

"I... want that fan."

Only when you finally looked at him with furrowed brows (mayhaps due to impatience) did he finally make his way forward to address the vendor. "Only 300 mora." More than what he wanted but he it won't be a huge loss. "If you add 100 mora, I can also write on the fan. Do you want your name on it?"

His grip on the pouch tightened, sending a glare to the vendor that she conveniently misses in her sole attention focused on you. Still that same sales lady smile, how irritating she lacked the common sense to read the room.

"Ah, perhaps you didn't want to share your name, you two do seem like you're not from around here. How about -"

"We only need the fan, you annoying hag." Throwing the coins on the stall, the pristine puppet roughly snatched the fan away and pulled you away, far from the village and far from any stupid human who might catch on to the hateful sneer hidden by the shadow of his hat.

That was hours ago, and the moon replaced the sun by now. Tsuki.

It was time for rest, if you can call it that. Carefully folding the fan close, you lean back against the tree trunk as the stars above began to shine, a familiar sight you've seen more times than you can count. You close your eyes all the same.

You never sleep. It was something that he had discovered only some time ago when nightmares would find him instead, and his frazzled mind would notice your eyes on him every time he awakens. And many times he wonders if you simply do not trust him to be vulnerable in his presence.

Yet you would always answer when he tests the waters, and the one time he tried to sneak up on you, a tight grip on his wrist immediately pulled him away. He remembers the fear and the pain, the same ones reflected in your eyes that followed him in his unfortunate nights.

He thought he would never be able to sleep too when the fear of finding out that his dreams were true when he wakes up kept him from dozing off.

But one night when he thought the long silence of the night would accompany him once again, a comforting melody slowly coaxed him to the land of dreams so easily. When he turned to you with barely open eyes, you barely moved, the expressions on your face only privy to the moon and the stars and the veil that hides you.

That was the only time he wished he could take it away from you.

That same lullaby echoed tonight and you opened your eyes, turning to the other puppet to see his lids closed, concentrated on recreating that same melody he had only heard briefly. Somehow, you mused as your eyelids slowly started to droop, his voice soothed the nightly song more. So peaceful.

And it would turn softer in your dreams, as soft as the silk that wraps around you, as soft as the petals that lands on you, as soft as the woman that calls for you.

When he woke up, he saw the start of the beautiful sakura shower, the blooms finally cascading to color the sea of green he laid on. He sees why you can never look away when they are in full bloom, just as he couldn't look away from your form that watched on with eyes full of life.

"What's your name?"

His hand brushes against the book he took from the village as he sits up. "Kunikuzushi." The rustling leaves made your mutters incoherent, but his eyes do not betray him when he saw your lips move to test out the syllables.

"What about yours?" Your gaze slowly left the sakura tree to watch 'Kunikuzushi' make his way over. "Have you made up your mind?" Despite looking forward, his purple hues would occasionally flicker to you in obvious anticipation.

The dream in a thousand restless nights speaks to you clearer now, and you mimic that word, that name.

"(Y/N)." He let it roll off his tongue in a deliberate manner, with such wonder and awe so child-like the first time you met. 'Kunikuzushi' dropped the facade to hide his elation and smiled freely this time. You turn your head to look back at the Sakura tree. "It sounds pleasant, it suits you."

You pull the veil over your face for good measure.

Only when the last petal fell from the tree did you finally step away with purpose, hand in crumbling hand with Kunikuzushi, never looking back.

Too sleep-deprived and sick to write anything else so you get this early. Part 2 releases either the next day or the day after that.

@deepdinosaurwizard @local-mr-frog @angryhope @rowielol @shoujishu @notyuki @asteriacos @willburzone @crystalcosplays @hxqlou @rolo-at-midnight @ireallylikehamsters @crxwned-mxnarch @reveltica @seddiepilled

The First Contract Index.

Rating: E (Sexual content, yandere themes, unhealthy relationships) Pairing(s): Yandere Zhongli/Reader and Yandere Xiao/Reader

Synopsis: 

“There was once a time when the nation known as Liyue hadn’t yet been named…”

You have been given many titles and names throughout Liyue’s existence. Vephar, The God of Sand, and even The God of Love; the descriptions varying in their validity. The true nature of your relationship with Rex Lapis has become a relic of the past. Mortals celebrate your union as the ideal love, but reality is far more unkind with its descriptions. 

There was no love on your behalf, only coercion, and a desperation to do anything to ensure your follower’s survival. 

The God of Contracts had you, and the final living Yaksha wished that he could someday as well.

Main Storyline. 

[Italics signifies that the story is not SFW]

The First Contract. [Yan Zhongli x F Reader] Restitute. [Yan Zhongli x Reader]  Favoritism. [Yan Zhongli x Reader] To Covet. [Yan Xiao x Reader] Eros. [Yan Xiao x F Reader] Blindspot. [Yan Zhongli x Reader] Seasonal Difficulties. [Yan Zhongli x F Reader] Improvised Ballad. [Yan Zhongli x Reader] Rejoice, Rejoice. [Yan Zhongli x Reader] High Strung. [Yan Xiao x Reader]

Misc. 

God Darling’s outfit(s). God Darling’s Misc Info. General headcanons.  The First Contract timeline. Voice lines about God Darling I. Voice lines about God Darling II. Voice lines about God Darling III. God Darling’s voice lines on the others. God Darling’s weapon. Etymology/Lore I. Lore II. First Contract tag. 

Venom Masterlist

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IN PLAIN SIGHT YOU HID / BUT YOU ARE WHAT YOU DID

katsuki bakugou x reader

same concept as the boyfriend thoughts ❅ breakup version

inspired by the smallest man who ever lived

katsuki bakugou, who, towards the end, wonders if any of it was true. he tried to picture you, gazing at him starry eyed. but those days are gone, and his heart hurts thinking of this future.

katsuki bakugou, who swears that in some other universe, things are okay. who knows that somewhere else in the world, he’s sitting across from you on the kitchen table, going over the grocery list. who gives you more time and more space, and who actually listens to what you say.

katsuki bakugou, who’s got a reputation. who starts dating you when the everyone hated him, and you loved him. who breaks things off with everyone loving him, and losing you.

katsuki bakugou, who can’t control his temper anymore. who is always an asshole, but who snaps when someone breaths wrong. who misses you more than anything, and copes with it by making it everyone elses problem. who relies on kirishima at night to keep him sane, tearing his heart out to his best friend over the phone.

katsuki bakugou, who hung you on his wall and stabbed you with his push pins. who, in public, loved to show you off. who knew he was nothing like that in private. who knew you deserved so much better but was too selfish to wanna let you go. who wishes he could turn back time and be what you deserved.

katsuki bakugou, who keeps all of your photos on his phone. who doesn’t even dare deleting them. who avoids his camera roll like the god damn plague. who wants to cry when he finally does delete everything, staring at the 1,768 deleted photos in his recently deleted folder. who replays old voice mails. who sometimes calls you and listens to it, because he knows you won’t answer.

katsuki bakugou, who you’re sure was sent by someone who wanted you dead. who tells you that its for your own good, that he needs to think things through. he books you an uber back to your apartment, and who helps you pack your things. who tells you he’s too busy, that he has to put his job first. who you can’t even argue with.

katsuki bakugou, who seemed like he was always ready to break your heart. who slept with a gun underneath your bed. who once loved you so tenderly, so delicately, and who know acts like you don’t exist. who you can’t quite declassify, not even if you had 50 years. who makes you wonder if he’ll ever confess why he did it. good riddance.

katsuki bakugou, who you see with other people, in news articles and through whispers from your friends. who thinks its sexy now that its not forbidden. who uses meaningless sex to mask how badly he misses you. who sleeps next to a stranger but dreams of you.

katsuki bakugou, who hops on a plane to LA. he tells everyone its to follow in all might’s footsteps, and he’s not lying- but apart of it is to escape his pain. who sees your face everywhere. who smells your scent on his sweaters. who finds one of your hairties in his jeans pocket and holds onto it like a god damn lifeline.

katsuki bakugou, who deserves prison for what he’s done to you, but won’t serve time. who watches as the media tears you to shreds, blaming you for the breakup. who tries to stop it but is rendered powerless when he sees how the heartbreak has been turned into entertainment. who hates that all of this has happened because you loved him.

katsuki bakugou, who slips through the bars. who’s thumb hovers over your contact during a late night. who fucked up. who misses you and just wants to love you once more. who wants to change his prophecy, fearing that this might kill him. who misses you stronger than anything he’s ever felt.

katsuki bakugou, who you miss just as much. who you dream about every night. who still hurts you, even when its something small like his name brought up in conversation. who makes you wonder what went wrong. who crashes your parties and your rental cars just thinking about him.

katsuki bakugou, who doesn’t expect your forgiveness, and wants you to forget. who watches your life through the glass, over the years as you move on. who knows that nothing will change what he’s done, and has to lie in that bed. who knows he hasn’t wasted a single ounce of his love, because all of it is yours to keep. who is the smallest man who’s ever lived.

part 2 where he gets redemption? u guys lmk 🫧

“Sweetheart, you look a little

When did you last eat?”

Inspired by Two - Sleeping at last

had a shitty day and cant sleep because of it, wish moon was here to hypnotize me to sleep aaughg

I'm gonna start a trend hehe >:3

So :

How would your Fae Sun and Moon react to being called baby (as in affectionate petname sense)? Like when we pet them or we just nuzzle into their necks gently??? Sth sth soft touches and petnames have been plaguing me lately, thank you 😃💥

OKAY SEE YOU JESTIE HEHEHE

🫣💞✨💥‼️

Calling the faeries, the generous pet name givers themselves, a pet name?

Oh, Starrie,

They’d crumble

They can dish it out but they can’t take it

trouble in paradise?

in which you and your rival co-actor were partnered up for your chemistry on-screen…and now that you’ve realized it, it’s proven to become more of a challenge not to fall for each other. (or : short dialogues shared)

character/s: albedo, ayato, childe, kazuha, scaramouche, xiao

a/n: hehe hi @sohyuki

childe.

getting interviewed about dating rumors,

“is it true that the both of you really aren’t together?”

it takes every fiber in you to not choke or spit out the water in your mouth, as you (shakily) set down the previously offered water bottle with a hasty and composed smile. “again, neither of us are interested in dating each other. we do admit that we have an…amiable relationship as co-actors, but definitely nothing more or less than that.”

yeah right, you can feel your inner voice openly chide as your eyes flit towards childe’s in masked panic. however, all you witness from your co-actor is his irritatingly polite smile, and a seemingly unfazed demeanor despite the intrusive and bothersome question.

“i don’t know, i think we look pretty good together.” he grins in a boyish manner, his slender fingers somehow finding its way to tease a lock of your hair within his grasp. you can feel a blush creep upon your cheeks at the unexpected remark, and you fight the urge to cuss him out in the middle of national television. not when your interviewer was clearly gushing at the sight of you two, and the glint of mischief in his ocean blue eyes almost dare to taunt you in his twisted idea of a challenge.

“it’s a shame,” you seethe through gritted teeth and a forced smile, discreetly unlacing his fingers from your freshly styled bed of hair. “that we’re just friends who aren’t attracted to each other.”

“says who?” you hear him pipe jokingly from beside you, and you swear your head whips back to him faster than lightning, a bewildered look evident in your eyes. “for all we know, i could have been secretly in love with you for the last few months.”

“ha ha, really funny.” you swallow the words as his fingers casually bump against yours, the warm sensation of it rendered as something foreign in your brain. it takes a moment to also register that his face was now inches from yours, a playful smirk on his face as he revels in the sight of your disbelief.

“funny, huh? care to find out whether it’s true, then?”

your tomato-hued face was the one thing childe took pride in, before the director giddily shouted ‘cut!’, and the interview was finally over.

the next day, your names were in bold headlines — and to much of your evident disappointment, even more rumors of the both of you “dating” were scattered all over the gushing press and intrigued audience.

xiao.

photographing for a magazine cover,

“how much longer do you have to touch me?”

“you think i appreciate this any more than you do?” he sneers, amber irises recoiling quickly in disgust at the sight of you. “stop moving and let’s get this over with.”

“that’s great, you two look perfect!” the photographer praises in evident enthusiasm from behind. “could you bring the lady a little closer to your chest?”

a squeak comes out of you when you feel your co-actor obey the order, much to his utter dismay. “you keep writhing. could you tone that down for a fucking second?”

“well in case you haven’t noticed, i’m not exactly the most comfortable with—!” your words catch in your throat when xiao slyly angles his head down to a patch of skin on your neck. you can hear his breath hitch and your pulse quicken at the little gesture, his seething words suddenly coming out clearer than ever against your flushed complexion.

“neither am i. now you’d better shut up, before i make you.”

“that pose is perfect! adjust your expressions — yes, keep it like that for a bit longer!”

it almost hurts to keep your breathing controlled, but it’s all you can do to calm the thrumming of your heart, as your conflicted eyes meet his indecipherable irises boring straight back into yours.

“…fine. dickwad.”

“incessant bitch.”

scaramouche.

bickering after a kissing scene,

“oi, someone get me some mouthwash.” you hear your co-actor grumble in disgust, while hastily wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

“a mint for me.” you scoff in return, only rolling your eyes when he turns to you with a death glare that seemed to harbor a shred of disbelief. “what? you taste like shit.”

“yeah, because i kissed shit.”

your scowl deepens at his words, and it takes the director’s exhausted command to split the sparking tension apart between you two. a part of you felt bad, considering this had already become some sort of “normal” routine ever since he scouted the both of you to play the main roles in a romantic film. but could he blame the both of you for getting pissed off after having to repeat that damned kissing scene for several takes?

“the good news is,” the director inhales a hefty breath. “that’s the last kissing scene you have to do together.”

“well, i wouldn’t intend to kiss her ever again.” scaramouche snorts. “she’s one hell of a shitty kisser.”

“oh like you were any better, dipshit.”

“you really wanna go at it right now?” his eyes flicker over to yours in a fit of darkness.

“what, you’re gonna prove me wrong or something?”

“maybe i will.” he growls in irritation, before violently snatching your wrist and dragging you with him to retreat inside his trailer, as you both quietly bicker amongst yourselves…but nevertheless, strangely don’t seem to be recoiling away from each other at the notion of kissing again.

“but, we have another scene to film in seven minutes—”

“any of you step inside that trailer and i’ll beat your ass up.” he threatens for the last time, a mysterious glint in his eyes as he lazily glances over his shoulder to meet the rest of the production crew’s astonished gazes. “we’ll come out when we’re finished with our business.”

kaedehara kazuha.

walking on the red carpet,

“y/n, over here!”

the flashing of crowded camera lights momentarily blind you with their intense illumination, but you work up a smile for the audience anyway. it’s been thirty minutes since you’ve found yourself posing for the cameras, however now you wanted nothing more than to sit down and tend to the blisters that were beginning to sting at your feet from your heels.

you take a few steps toward the venue, ever so slightly swaying in your stance as you grit your teeth and endure the sudden bursts of pain. if you could just walk a bit quicker to reach the confines of the marbled threshold that awaits…

but the deafening shout of the final group of photographers snap you out from your daze, glancing over your shoulder as they excitedly beckon you over to take the last batch of photos before entering inside.

you shift in your steps…albeit a little too hurriedly, as your feet begin to wobble and you feel yourself about to fall down —

only to be (unwillingly) caught by none other than your unfazed co-actor. his hands slip around your waist to securely straighten your body, and you can’t help but gape in astonishment at the uncharacteristic yet gentlemanly gesture.

“love, you look like an idiot staring at me.”

your eyebrows furrow at the slightly rude comment, annoyed at how his averted eyes never seem to meet yours. “i think i had it under control.” you mutter beneath your breath, forcing a smile for the cameras and gushing photographers, as his thumb lazily traces circles on your waist in a form of reassurance.

“you can bicker all you want later, when we reach the entrance.” he smirks in amusement, before nonchalantly resting his head on your shoulder to pose differently for the pictures, his intrusive breath tickling your ears. “just smile and look pretty, love. like always.”

it’s frustrating to fight the blush that settles on your cheeks as he puts on a facade and eventually guides you inside with that fucking knowing grin.

albedo.

attending a costume fitting,

“stand still.” you hear him mutter in a low breath, as he wraps the measuring tape around the curve of your waist.

you let out a dry scoff. “who let you do this?”

“it’s not that difficult of a task,” albedo replies, peering down at the red number on the white band. “so i offered to help out.”

“well make it quick,” you clear your throat, cocking your head to the side in attempts to hide the flush on your cheeks. “it’s been fifteen minutes. i’m starving.”

“are you?” he hums, never raising his teal irises to meet yours in turn. “or are you just scared?”

you frown at the boy. “why would i be scared?”

albedo tugs lightly on the measuring tape around your body, causing you to tumble forward and closer to his face. your eyes jolt wide open at the close proximity, and the forbidden thumping in your heart grows worse at the clearer sight of him.

“a-albedo?” you blurt out, shifting your eyes somewhere else to avoid his piercing gaze. “what the hell are you doing?” you peek over his shoulder at the wide open door. “what if someone sees us?”

a corner of his lip tugs upward in an attractive manner. “ah, is that why?” followed by a teasing chuckle. “you’re scared i might do something to you.”

“jeez, i’m not afraid—” you bite your tongue hastily in aggression, when he suddenly tilts his head to inch closer towards your lips.

“it’s in your eyes right now,” he remarks in a low voice, noting the way your breath remains caught in your throat. “you’re scared i’ll end up kissing you.”

you swallow thickly in the haze of his pervading cologne, unable to say anything to refute his words. because yeah, maybe he was right. maybe you were scared about the centimeter distance. maybe you were scared that your rival co-actor might press his soft mouth against yours without acting. maybe you were scared about what that would mean in your career and competitive relationship.

bringing your hands down to his, you pry his grasp off the tape around your waist. “well, you got what you needed. i’m leaving.”

as you hurriedly make your way towards the exit of the room, albedo stays behind to fill out the last measurement required on the sheet of paper, before eventually allowing a begrudging sigh to escape from between his pressed lips.

“ah…for a second, i almost wanted to kiss her.”

ayato.

helping with your make-up,

“why does he have to do this again?” you groan in your seat, jutting out a finger at the boy setting down another cosmetic near a station organized by the wide mirror.

“‘cause i know how to do it well.” ayato smiles, but there’s something close to a mischievous intent masked behind blue-grey irises.

you glare over at the director, who ended up shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “just a few more minutes and it’s over. you’re getting paid to put up with him anyway.”

“god knows i wish i wasn’t,” you scoff, about to bury your face in your hands, before suddenly remembering you were already caked with make-up.

“one last touch,” you hear him hum, watching as he swipes his finger across a light pink tint before reluctantly bringing his hand closer to your face.

you can’t even protest as he brushes the pigment softly against the plush of your lips, the rest of his fingers cupping your cheek in a gentle manner. ayato strokes the shade once, twice, and perhaps once more for an extra measure — before suddenly pausing in his movements.

you wonder what he’s busy gawking at, and then it belatedly hits you — he’s staring at your mouth.

“ahem,” you aggressively clear your throat, snapping him out of his temporary daze.

“ah, it’s done.” ayato instantly comments, and it irks you to see how he doesn’t even seem bothered that you had clearly caught him admiring your lips back there.

“weirdo.” you grumble, pushing yourself off the seat to scrutinize the boy’s finished work in the mirror. “hm, i suppose it’s…not bad.”

your hesitant comment causes his eyes to shift from the cosmetics, towards the sight of your reflection in the mirror.

“well, would you look at that,” he grins cockily, ignoring the way his heart subconsciously races a tad too quickly at the pleasant view of you.

“i finally made you pretty.”