#genshin impact x reader

[evangelin3]

caught my single ass smiling at this😪😔

A duty— Capitano

Synopsis: You were set to marry a fatui... Wait, is that a fucking harbinger?!

Wc: 3.3k

Warning(s): fem reader for this one, reader gets called "wife", Capitano is described to have dark blue eyes (i swear i did my research and they said yes to dark blue eyes), MDNI masturbation but no sex between them.

Notes: don't ask the reason why you are in an arranged marriage, my brain is fried. You can come up with your own reasons ! Wrote this with my eyes cursing at me to sleep so half not proofread. Part 2 is out here. Part 3 is out here!

Tick tock.

You watched as the clock ticked louder than usual, cringing to yourself when the sound became unpleasant to you, it was ringing in your ears.

Even the fatui around you were like statue's, you considered for a minute to check if they were even alive and breathing.

The door then swinged opened, everyone's head suddenly lowering slightly which made you even more confused, but you mimicked their gestures nonetheless for respect.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the room, the sound only getting louder and heavier the closer it got you.

The steps finally stopped, and your glance up to see a big—no, giant man standing right infront of you. He seemed to be wearing a helmet to cover his face, long black hair that protrutes from the back of his helmet and over his shoulders, and the big coat that was full of fur draped around his shoulders.

You must say, he went all out with his appearance as a fatui.

"Are you perhaps..." You started, breaking the silence that hung think in the air, "... The person who I'm arranged to marry?" You finish off, tilting your head curiously.

He doesn't answer immediately, rather, he looks down at you, observing your features which makes you wipe your sweaty hands to your sides.

"Il Capitano," he finally spoke, a raspy voice, you noted. Capitano extended his arm out for you, and you willingly accepted it, giving it a gentle shake.

"Member of the fatui Harbingers."

His next words made your hand freeze. Did he just say Harbinger? Not even a normal fatui like you thought, but a whole harbinger. Standing right before you, and shaking your hand.

Well you were screwed because what the hell have you gotten yourself into.

You both were quiet now, staring at eachother that it's becoming almost painfully awkward.

"Your name?" He asks, letting your hand go and it's like you were snapped back to reality when you immediately blurt out your name.

He repeats your name like you were on his kill-off list, but that was just overthinking on your part.

"I'd like your company from now on." He announced, stepping a tad closer to you which made you hold in your breath.

"then i shall be at your company..." Giving him your best small smile, you bowed your head again.

•••

Your wedding basically consisted of a witness and marriage papers that needed your signature. You didn't even get the chance to wear a traditional wedding dress nor have a honeymoon, which you don't think is necessary for now since everything was going too fast for your liking.

And Marina, your new personal maid, has become your new friend in this big estate of Capitano's, teaching you everything you must and mustn't do. Kind of like a 101 guide on how to be a wife.

Ever since that day a two months ago, you have not done anything but cause trouble.

You wanted to go out? Well you need your husband's permission. You want to eat something? Ask Marina first and she'll whip it for you no problem, and no you're not allowed to cook by yourself. You bombarded Capitano with questions about himself, but his answers wouldn't be enough as they were about a word or a sentence long.

As boring as that is, this is your life now for... Archons know how long. But you remember it being temporary, if your memory did not fail you.

Capitano had returned back to the estate for the night, and for the first time, you greeted him at the front door with a smile, wishing you could see him smile back at you.

"My lord," you bow elegantly like how Marina taught you, speaking even softly like nothing ever happened a week ago, the fit you remember throwing at him, demanding an answer on why you couldn't do anything around.

The silence in the hallways was deafening, broken only by the clanking of his armor as he took a step closer to you, his towering figure cast an intimidating shadow upon you. "It is rare," he spoke in a blunt tone, "to see you this obedient." Capitano paused, his gaze scrutinizing your every move. "You have been behaving recently?"

You couldn't help but fidget with the hem of your clothes nervously like you have been caught, a nervous quiet laugh escaping your lips, "i believe I've always behaved."

Capitano let out a terse sigh at your answer, his eyes unflinching through the slits of his helmet. "To your luck," he muttered, "you have been... tolerable." The word 'tolerable' hung heavily in the air, making it clear that it was the most positive adjective he could summon about you.

"However," he added after a few moments, "you seem more compliant than usual today. This is an... interesting change." His tone was questioning, as if hinting that he was wary of your compliance, expecting a hidden scheme behind it.

"Shall we have dinner?" You change the topic, changing your position to stand by his side so that both of you could walk to the dining room together. Capitano nods curtly, acknowledging your suggestion. He allows you to approach, though there is a stiffness in his movements as he lets you stand by his side.

The two of you begin walking to the dining room, your husband's steps were heavy, and it was evident that he was still in his full armor, the sound of his footsteps filling the hall.

"You are not usually the one to suggest dinner," he commented, "I thought today was nice... Despite how i always fight you, forgive me." you mumble apologetically.

You become quiet when he doesn't answer back, your hands clasped infront of you instead.

You both soon reached the dining hall, now sat opposite eachother on the dining table, Capitano's gaze remained fixed upon you as you both sat across each other, the coldness in his eyes didn't waver as he observed you intently. The silence seemed to thicken as the only sound in the room was the clinking of silverware against the ceramic dinnerware.

"How was your trip?" You asked casually while stuffing some veggies in your mouth.

"The trip was... uneventful," he replied tersely, pausing briefly before continuing. "The usual Fatui business, nothing that concerns you, wife." His words were as biting as ever, indicating that he wasn't keen on discussing his business matters with you.

"nofing mfun?" You ask again with your mouth too full this time, "don't speak with your mouth full of food." You swallow your food down when you caught a glimpse of disappointment in his tone, maybe he was even frowning if you could see him behind his helmet.

"i will retire to my chambers after this," you place down the silverware on the tablecloth to reach for the glass of water next to you. Capitano doesn't answer, but he nods slowly in return.

•••

The world was still and the moon illuminated the grounds outside, casting a soft glow upon the landscape. You could hear the occasional sound of crickets and the whispered rustle of leaves, creating a peaceful atmosphere inside the expansive estate.

The minutes ticked by slowly, each one seemingly longer than the last as you anticipated Capitano's return this time. You fidgeted with the sheets, as you waited, you recalled Marina's words, a distant memory echoing in your head, "It is custom for a wife to wait for her husband to return before she retires to bed." You never did that, no. You would always sleep before he did and he would always wake up before you did. It was rare to even see him on your side of the bed, only sometimes when you would wake up from a sudden heavy weight shifting next to you.

Despite being married for quite some time, the connection between you two was still distant and cold. Capitano didn't seem to care for you on any emotional level, instead seeing you as a mere accessory to his life as a mighty Capitano of the Fatui Harbingers. A possession rather than a wife, you thought.

Capitano's steps echoed through the room as he stepped into your bedroom, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. He closed the door behind him with a thump, shutting out the outside world and isolating the two of you in the room.

He observed you quietly for a moment, "You're not in bed yet?"

"i was waiting for you."

"And why, pray tell, were you waiting for me?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Marina..." You mumble, standing up from the bed while looking away in a bit of embarrassment, "she taught me it was custom for a wife to wait for her husband."

Capitano seemed even more surprised upon hearing your answer, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Marina... I see," he said slowly, of her name sending a ripple of irritation through him. Capitano disliked Marina's influence on you and how she seethe mentioned to be teaching you things.

He strode closer to you, by now you were used to his presence that it would not make you involuntary step back, you instead wait for his next move.

Lifting his hand to take a few strands of your hair was the last thing you expected. The strands resting on his hand as he lifted it closer to his helmet, almost like a gesture of kissing your hair which made you blink rapidly.

"You don't have to," he whispered, his thumb gently caressing the strands, "don't have to listen to Marina or anyone. You may do your own thing in this estate. I just want you well taken care of and safe."

You think you may have just fallen in love with the man because... Why is your heart beating so fast that it could explode? Or wait, can he hear it?

Capitano then let go of your hair, walking past you as he started loosening the straps of his armor, "it is late," he muttered with a rasp, his hands working quickly to remove his armor. The sound of armor being unthreaded echoed through the room, punctuated by the clinks of metal.

Taking off his helmet next so casually made your eyebrows furrow and sit back on the bed with your head tilted to get a closer look at him.

His eyes were glowing dark blue, the most beautiful shade of blue you think you've ever seen. The prettiest face too despite his dark and intimidating aura.

"you're beautiful." You whispered in awe, though Capitano, who was half-way through removing his armor, paused for a moment as he heard your words. He wasn't expecting such a compliment from you. It was rare for you to praise him, preferring to defy him more often than not.

"Beautiful?" he repeated, his voice gruff, you noticed his expressions and tried to act cool, your fingers nervously scratching your neck out of habit when you get shy.

"You're beautiful too, my wife." This completely caught you off gaurd, but it doesn't stop you from smiling and laughing it off quietly.

"Goodnight." Your head rests on the pillow, and this time you face him in your sleep, and he makes the effort to mimick your gestures.

"Goodnight."

•••

"Marina, where is my wife?" That was the first thing he asked your personal maid the moment he arrived back from his mission. His head looking around rather than looking down directly at Marina.

"The lady should be at her chambers."

"She's not."

"What?" Poor Marina's eyes widened, she was sure she just gave you a basket of fruits and snacks in your room, even asking you if you needed anything else.

"... Forgive me, my lord. She's probably in the bat—"

"She's not in the bathroom." He replied in a low, dangerous tone that sent a shiver down her spine.

Where are you, my lady? Marinas thought through gritted teeth before exhaling out shakily, "i shall go find her at once." Marina began looking around every corner of the estate, and each room she opened without you in it, she would lose two years of her life with Capitano following her.

You couldn't have escaped, right?

Finally when she hurriedly went to the back of the estate, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw you sitting outside on the grass with the basket of goods she handed you earlier.

You wave your hands and both Capitano and Marina with a bright smile, causing his shoulders to relax when you were at last seen having fun by yourself.

"you're going to get me killed one day." Marina mouthed at you, but since there was some distance between you both, you just smiled and shrugged at her.

Capitano approached you slowly, his purposeful stride carrying him towards you with measured steps. You were perched on the grass, happily savoring the treats in your hands, when he suddenly materialized before you. "Sit." You pat the space next to you, to which he obliged without hesitation.

"Have you ever done this before?"

"No."

"Never? It's nice."

"You do seem to be enjoying yourself." He hums thoughtfully, and your smile widens, "The last couple of months have been interesting, and i get to know you better now." You say before popping a blueberry in your mouth to chew on.

"Blueberry?" You offer, raising your hand while holding a blueberry in between your thumb and forefinger.

You might think your husband is shy by how he looks around at first before taking off his helmet, cute. Eventually he leans to take the fruit between his teeth before chewing silently, the slight fruit juice glistening on his lips before his tongue along with his thumb swiped over his lower lip.

"you know," you suddenly speak, drawing your hips near him, "we've never kissed yet."

He pauses, staring at you while thinking deep about it, "does it bother you?"

"No, does the idea bother you?" Your question held a mixture of uncertainty and intrigue.

Without a warning, his hand held your left cheek with gentleness, his lips slotting against yours for three seconds max before it ended.

What?

Your eyes were wide open the whole three seconds of it too!

"What was that?" The horror in your eyes was evident, not because you were scared, but because you were caught off guard and your eyes were fucking open. Capitano, upon seeing your eyes, he immediately tried pulling away, thinking he might've scared you in some way.

But you were quick to hold his wrist firmly so it wouldn't leave your cheek. "I liked it." You blurt out with the reddest cheeks ever, and he's almost amused.

"But it was too fast," you clear your throat before tilting your head closer, "may i, husband?" How can he refuse when you asked so nicely too?

Your lips latch onto his for the second time, and this time, you were going to give him a proper kiss. With your lips moving with ease against his, the sounds of soft smacks of your lips together filling the air which makes the tips of his ears go red.

You don't continue after both of you pull away to catch your breath, your eyes staring deeply into eachother as he pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Let's not do this again," your heart almost drops at his words. Did you mess up again? Did he not like how it felt—

"In public, i meant. I wouldn't like anyone to see you in such a state."

You can definitely hear the crickets in your head. "So we can continue kissing?"

"Mm," he only hums back before reaching for his helmet to put it back on. "I have to leave, i will be back by midnight," and when he stands up, it was your cue to stand up to bid him goodbye.

"Take care, husband." You wrap you arms around him, and he circles his arms back around you into a tight hug. It was not your first hug together, so you got used to the feeling of not being able to breath for a couple of seconds before of his tight arms around you.

•••

Capitano expected you to be awake when he returned from a few errands he had to run earlier, expecting you to wait for for him so that both of you could sleep at the same time ever since you did that day.

But you were asleep, peaceful and relaxed on your shared bed. You, wearing nothing but a silky nightgown like you always do, the blanket shuffled messily on you which revealed your legs slightly parted, and your arms hugging the pillow underneath you.

You looked like an angel to him, so vulnerable.. so pretty like this—god was he pent up from today.

He hands clenched tightly into fists until his knuckles turned white as he looked away, instead busying himself in taking off his usually neat coat which was now covered in few splatters of crimson red.

The sound of the running water masked his muttering, instantly regretting his thoughtlessness. As he grabbed the bar of soap, he began to wash vigorously, trying to expel the memories of combat and the musky scent of carnage. His body couldn't be gentler with himself though, as he massaged his muscles that ached from the constant strain.

His heartbeat quickened as his mind wandered back to you. You were the sweetest thing in his life, and he would never ever hurt you, in fact, he would rather die than have your precious skin scratched. Or even cutting off the heads without hesitating if one would hurt you.

He hates himself for envisioning your body under his, or thinking about how skilled you would be with your tongue or hands. he thought he was a selfish lustful man for thinking of such thing when you were sound asleep and tired.

Unable to bear it any longer, he reached for himself, stroking slowly at first before heavier thrusts took over all while imagining how it would feel like to be inside your soft and warm cunt instead of his hard and rough fist. The steam from the shower served to muffle his low groans, half in agony, half in ecstasy. Closing his eyes, he pictured your warm smile or shy and embarrassed facial expressions as his release came steadily forth, his forehead hit the cool tiles as he let out a deep, satisfied sigh.

After taking a moment to get himself together, he turned off the water and faced the mirror. How can he go back to bed after jerking off to the thought of your smile and sleeping figure? He would very much rather bang his head on the wall.

But he dried off with a sigh and headed back to bed, trying to keep his eyes half closed with his back turned to you as he sinked down on the mattress, taking a bit of blanket to cover himself with his eyes forced shut.

Your sudden arms that enveloped around him from behind is what gave Capitano a scare. A literal scare to the big man.

Were you awake this whole time? Did you hear him back in the bathroom? Was he too loud?

But your soft snores made his stiff shoulders sag in relief, indicating you were still in deep in your dreams.

He decided to turn around to face you, looking down at how innocent you looked, how the moonlight seemed to glow on your face from the window, giving your features a glowy shine.

"You have ruined me," he whispered carefully while brushing off strands of your hair away from your face to press a goodnight kiss on your forehead. "I am yours, ruin me, break me, and love me as much as you want, my wife."

[fangdokja]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫 ~ 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

The heat has you trembling.

It’s unbearable—burning through your veins, thickening the air in your tiny, isolated cottage until you can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move without feeling the agonizing, desperate pulse between your thighs. Your body betrays you. Slick drips down your legs, staining the sheets where you try to hide, curled up in the furthest corner of your bed, panting, helpless.

You know what’s coming.

You can already hear him outside.

The slow, deliberate crunch of boots against snow. The deep inhale of your scent in the frozen air. And then—

Knuckles against the wooden door.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Kitten.” His voice is all silk and gravel, thick with amusement and something darker. “Open up.”

Your claws dig into the sheets.

Silence.

A chuckle. Then—

The door slams open.

Childe steps inside, shaking snow from his hair, sharp blue eyes glinting as they lock onto you. He inhales again, long and deep, and something in him snaps.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he drawls, voice dropping into something wrecked and wanting. “You smell—so—fucking—good.”

You scramble back as he approaches, but there’s nowhere to go. The bed dips beneath his weight, his body pressing into yours, his scent—pure alpha, thick with need—overwhelming your senses until you’re dizzy.

“Why’re you hiding, hmm?” His lips brush against your ear. “Your body wants me. You need me.”

A whimper. A weak, trembling shake of your head.

He groans, shoving you onto your back, caging you beneath him. “That’s not what your pussy’s saying,” he murmurs, gloved fingers sliding between your thighs. His breath stutters.

“Fuck,” he growls, yanking his gloves off with his teeth before dragging his bare fingers through your soaked folds. “You’re dripping.”

Your body jerks as he grinds his cock against your entrance, rutting like a beast in heat. His voice turns slurred, pussy-drunk, pupils blown wide. “Fuck—fuck—feels so good—”

He forces his way inside.

You choke. The stretch is brutal, his thick cock splitting you open, forcing your body to accommodate him despite your weak resistance. He groans, forehead pressing against yours, lost in the way you squeeze him, the way your body clings to him.

“Made for me,” he slurs, rolling his hips in deep, brutal strokes. “Gonna fill you up—stuff you full—breed this pretty little cunt until you can’t take anymore.”

You sob, nails raking against his back, but it only makes him fuck you harder. His knot swells, locking you in place, sealing him inside you as his hips stutter and—

He spills into you with a wrecked moan, voice breaking on your name.

His teeth sink into your throat, claiming you.

His knot pulses, thick, hot.

And you realize, with horrifying clarity—

He’s not stopping until you’re carrying his pups.

Official TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @save4h , @rofkshinee , @songbirdgardensworld , @yanderedrabbles

[allfearstofallto]

From Your Hands

Yandere! Prince! Scaramouche × Fem! Consort! Reader

TW: 18+ MDNI, Yandere themes, Forced marriage (?), Alcohol consumption, Poisoning, Reader tries to kill Scaramouche A LOT

AN: I'm still on my apothecary diaries shit...

The night air had a biting chill to it and the wind smelled of rain. You felt hot under your many layers, but that's how he liked to see you. As the prince’s favorite consort, you wore what he wanted you to and he liked peeling off each and every piece of fabric, stripping you bare bit by bit, like picking the petals off of a flower. 

In your arms you cared pitcher full of sake. The prince, as you learned over the years, was not human. He could not feel intoxication the way that mortals did, but he would never deny himself the burning, bitter taste of the clear liquor. It tasted better poured from your hands, he would tell you. Even though he had a wait staff the size of his army at his disposal, the prince wanted you to fill his dish to the brim every night. 

Tonight's drink was special. Not in what it was, no. Prince Scaramouche always drank the same sake, a brew aged especially for him, made from only the finest grains of rice. What was special was what you added. A poison. The kind that would kill in hours, if not minutes with no antidote. And the antidote was harder to get your hands on than the poison. You clenched that pitcher to your chest and held it like it was your lifeline. No one was to even consider taking a sip, no one, but the prince. This was a drink for his highness and his highness alone.

“You're early,” he barely looked up from the pipe resting delicately in his hand, each syllable of his words blowing a hot smoke into your face. He lay nestled in his bed, upon many pillows, in a state of undress you often saw him in after he’d retired to his chambers. Stripping himself was a chore, but patiently undressing you layer by layer until you stood bare before him was like unveiling his favorite art.

You bit back the urge to cough as you inhaled the tobacco’s smoke, instead speaking softly while the maids scurried away, leaving you two in privacy.

“I longed to see you, your highness,” as you spoke, you kneeled next to his resting side, tracing your fingertips up and down his bare chest. He didn't pull from your touch, but he gave you a questioning glare with those blue eyes. He knew you were planning something, he always did.

“You lie,” he spat softly, but harshly. There was no point in putting up a ploy around him. The docile act didn't work on him. Not after all you'd done. Scaramouche knew who you were, and he wanted you, flaws, intent, and all.

He reached across himself, still nestled in his many pillows and grabbed his empty, white dish. He held it up to you, the scent of liquor still lingering on the glass. He wanted you to pour, and you did. You gave you pitcher one customary swirl, just to make sure all of the poison was in every single drop and you filled his dish to the very brim.

Scaramouche met your gaze, just for a moment, eyes on yours, still framed in his red liner, then he dipped his head back and drank the sake. A sigh of relief fell from his mouth, when he pulled the glas back, his tongue peeking out to taste the bitter liquid on his lips. All you could do was watch the scene with bated breath, each second feeling like agony.

Blue eyes looked down at the now empty dish, then back up at you. He looked unamused. Even more so than before. Scaramouche, your prince, looked annoyed. It wasn't the expression you were wanting though. The poison was said to cause foaming at the mouth and chest pains, followed by a death of asphyxiation, yet all you were met with was his mirthless expression.

“How many times do you think I'll let you do this, before you're hung for treason?” Scaramouche held out his glass again and you filled it once more, listening to the familiar sound of the liquor splashing against the shallow walls.

Another failure, that was to be expected.

“Until you finally die, I suppose, your highness,” you replied in an equally uninterested tone.

You'd tried to kill the man many times before, in many different ways. The fact that he was still living in front of you being proof that you hadn't succeeded. He blocked the blade when you tried to stab him through the chest as he slept, he turned to face you before you could push over a ledge to his death at the bottom of a cliff, and he had a particular resistance for poisons. This wasn't your first time trying to kill him, and it wouldn't be the last.

You had no want to be a consort. You couldn't even lie and say you had any affection for the prince. The next ruler of the nation? He was a tyrant waiting to happen. Hatred and disgust were words more suited to your feelings towards him. For a man who claimed to love you like flowers love the sun and the tide loves the moon, he treated you like property. Spending the rest of your life in prison for slaying the prince was much better than spending every waking moment in the cage if his affection, of his arms, and of his comfort that felt more like suffocation.

A small smirk played at his lips at your response. He loved this little game you played. A game to him, of course, but life and death to you. For a man who insisted that he hated disorder and disloyal people, a man who claimed that betrayal was a sin deserving of death, he grew more and more interested in you with each failed attempt at slaying him, drinking poison poured from your hands hands and risking his life with each sip. Cat and mouse, he called it with a breathless sense of whimsy in his voice, a tone unbefitting of him. Only, the mouse was pretending to be the predator, and it would never win.

“You must know that these poisons and things of the like won't work,” he finished second glass and a part of you hoped that he'd begin to show symptoms, though once again, nothing happened.

“What's the harm in trying?”

He clicked his tongue, a look of anger crossing his face, but only for a moment, “The harm is that now I can't kiss you during our coupling,”

“Oh, the horror,” you replied sarcastically, feigning pain in your chest. Your little display only making his glare only grow harsher. For a man as disgusting and vile as he was, he desired your passionate pleasure like no other, especially after many drinks. He couldn't kiss you, not the way he truly wanted to, unless he wished to risk you falling ill to the poison clinging to his lips. It was a small win, not what you wanted, but any harm you did to him was good enough for you.

A mere hum was his response, a hum and another raise of the glass. You filled it once more and watched his sip it down again. The pitcher was half full now, yet he showed no symptoms. Enough poison to kill a man twice over should've been flowing through his veins, yet he looked as calm and collected as he drank more of what should've been his death.

“How shall you attempt to kill me next?” Scaramouche finally said after a few moments of silence, the only sound being the liquid being swallowed down his throat.

“I suppose I haven't tried suffocation yet. Perhaps a pillow over the face?” 

A rich chuckle fell from his lips and filled the air, a sound you seldom heard from the typically serious man, “I look forward to it.”

[angelic--kitty]

ooohh, what ifff, reader being squished between two CEO's, arle n signora? 👀

ceo!signora + arlecchino x secretary!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, dom!arlecchino and signora (threesome), secretary!reader (power imbalance), fingering, cunnilingus, age gap, degradation

a/n: yeah... im into this. it gets right into the smut lmao. seems a little rushed but i hope yall see my vision

"such a pretty little slut for us." signora smirks down at you, your wide eyes meeting hers as she keeps your mouth pressed to her cunt.

her head tips back as she laughs, hips grinding against your tongue. you moan into her as arlecchino's fingers crook inside of you.

the stoic woman behind you grunts, pushing you down more firmly into an arch. your neck hurts from how they have you positioned on the desk, but you don't dare to complain, only wanting to please your superiors.

arlecchino mumbles something to signora, something or other about work, to which she replies, drowned out by your own jumbled thoughts.

they use you as if you aren't even there, your tight pencil skirt shoved up over your hips, your blouse unbuttoned to free your tits. if the age difference wasn't enough, the power imbalance makes your head spin.

yet you loved it. you loved feeling helpless between the two women. and you loved it more when they'd push you beyond your limits and treat you to an expensive dinner after work.

even better, when they'd take you home afterward.

arlecchino presses another finger inside of you, easing you open as you whine against signora. said woman lightly taps your cheek when your eyes close, reminding you to keep looking up at her.

"you're so pretty when you look pathetic. don't you fucking dare close your eyes." she snaps, petting your head.

finally she pulls away, your head dropping, relieved from the pain as you moan softly from how arlecchino stretches you open.

spit and signora's cum drips from your lips onto the polished wood of arlecchino's desk. "what a mess." signora huffs, fixing her clothes as she smooths her skirt out, rounding the table to watch arlecchino's fingers disappear inside of you.

"all she's good for huh?" signora grins at arlecchino, teasingly pushing her glasses up her nose from where they had fallen.

arlecchino grinds her fingers into your g-spot, watching you squirm and cry as she snorts. "pathetically so."

[raytoebiter]

head currently dying rn but i literally forgot to repost rhe masterlist😭🙏

Tunes of your heartbeat ‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹

sypnosis; In which your fate somehow gets entangled into a jumble of mess between punk music in cozy cafés, intense rivalry, cherished yakults, parallelograms and quantum physics, competitions in contests and rainy days. Or in other words; the universe seems to fucking hate your guts for whatever reason and decided to curse your love life with your awful crass emo twink-a-fuck rival. The question is; did the curse work?

a scaramouche x f!reader SMAU

• Genre; hate at first sight, slowburn, intense rivalry, also intense rivalry in?? who gets to?? pamper each other more?? yeah, rivals to lovers, scara doesn't know how to love, punk music, yakult and swiss miss, senior highschool love, bonding through music, confessions through music, hanging out in ugly places vibes, senior-high typa thing?, late highschool, about-to-be graduatees, and etcetera:)

• Warnings; mommy issues, a fuck ton of curses (be warned), mentions of alcohol and probably a few panic attacks here and there, sewersidal mentions, kys jokes, vulgar jokes, like very vulgar. 18+ not for wattpad purposes but bc it's too inappropriate and vulgar😭

• Taglist II is open! ask to be added or removed!

• Status; ongoing. no update schedule, and irregular hiatuses.

inspiration; from the sidelines bkdk fic ao3, sleeping sirens' songs omg and this one fic that i made over a year ago which is the root of this SMAU

— notes..

- let me know if you want to be added as a twt user in this SMAU too!

- feel free to picture yourself however you want:)

- all the titles in this SMAU are songs:D

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╰┈➤ playlists; curse these feelings (scara's playlist) || fuck these feelings (name's playlist)

╰┈➤ profiles; the five horsemen of stupidity (name's group) || yacult (scara's group)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ PLAYING... FIRST BEAT ✰ .ᐟ

Prologue

I. Shut me up (by a punch)

II. Get it up

III. Situations

IV. Don't you dare forget the sun

V. Fake it

VI. I don't care

VII. Knives and Pens

VIII. Pretty Handsome Awkward

IX. Kick me

X. Another life

XI. Sink or Swim

XII. Aneurysm

XIII. Besitos

XIV. Heart Shaped Box

XV. Young Blood Spills Tonight

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ PLAYING... SECOND BEAT ✰ .ᐟ

XVI. My Love

XVII. Wut I Liek Abt U

XVIIII. Scream

tba.

AND... PAUSE!

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authors notes - i've been literally thinking of making this since uhhhhhhh idk last week ago? this fic was actually inspired by a bkdk ao3 fanfic. and what drove me to really do this smau is that—i really like the idea of applying real life things to fiction. like please tell me everytime u see yakult, it reminds u of this fic. or cafés. i want this fic to exude that vibe and by that, ill try my best to do exactly that.

(ask to be added in comments)

[anantaru]

scara + mafia au + betrayal + “kill me right now then, i dare u”

(pls ignore this is it’s too much haha also hii i’ve missed uu)

w. dry humping, fem! reader, enemies to lovers, mafia au

a ghosting smirk curls at the corners of scaramouche's lips as he's got you ruthlessly draped against a table, your ass roughly pressed against his pelvis as his smirk only widens at the pitiful sight, "kill me right now, then," he spits, voice as smooth as ever, as if the weight of his own life meant nothing to him.

he tilts his head further before grinding against your wet cunt once— then repeating, twice, chuckling as you whined out a choked whimper.

he presses into the soaked material of your panties which outlined your folds and made sure to make him practically drool from his mouth, "i dare you," and for this reason, you question yourself as to how it had gotten to this point again.

you see just a few minutes ago, your hands trembled around the gun you took from him, yet he noticed you did, of course— because how couldn't he when it was so easy to triumph over you? he always noticed when you did something, after all, this skill of his was why he was a part of the dark network you originally planned to destroy.

"i've been watching you since the moment you stepped into the room," he groans and grinds rougher, as well as more passionately into your puffed out folds, the betrayal from you still fresh, raw, and yet again, it was you who held a weapon against him, although now it was him caging you against a wooden table instead, utterly pestering you with his painfully erected cock fucking tightly between your folds, yet not giving you what you desired.

scaramouche's breath came shallow when you rocked and smeared your ass back at him, his eyes tracing your back with a strange, quiet reverence— no, not reverence, something closer to confusion, how it drives him crazy that you liked this as much as he did.

because listen closely now, this feeling, okay, this unbearable pull, was not something he could outwit or manipulate— it demanded surrender, and surrender was a foreign thing to him, a concept he had always found laughable and embarrassing.

yet here you were, helping him grind against his pulsing cock, obediently rubbing your folds up and down his length as your face was a mess, pressed against a wooden table.

albeit exposing something on his face, a demeanor he had long since buried beneath charm and calculation.

©2025 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[sl-vega]

SWEET N' SOUR ! - a scaramouche celebrity smau

-> PROLOGUE; all because I liked a boy

additional notes:

HI HI

i wanted to post this chapter yesterday but i'm SUPER sick right now so staring at a screen was basically a death sentence for me

so to make it up to you guys I wanted to make this chapter longer than I originally wanted it to be!

i was debating whether I wanted to release to prologue or the profiles first, but seeing as how scara's fg isn't relevant yet (and how y/n's entire gc was shown in the second teaser, I decided on uploading the prologue first!

and part of me also want you guys to guess some of the irl equivalents to some of the characters here!

aka half of them

only half of y/n friend group (including y/n mind you) are essentially au versions of another celebrity/semi famous person

so leave your guesses in my ask box/comments!

anyways LMAO other random notes

while this smau won't be an exact one to one of how the music industry works (ie me taking creative liberties with fontinalia being based off of broadway records even though it functions VERY differently from the source) I do like to include accurately depicted parts of it when I can!

when Beidou was talking about qixing showing an interest in y/n, the A&R team that she mentioned is a very real part of any record label!

A&R stands for artists and repertoire, and it's basically a fancy term for talent scouts who find new artists to sign to the label they work for!

anyways lmao this was a VERY long a/n, so thanks for reading all that if you did

as per usual, taglist is always open and please let me know if you want to have a cameo as a fan username (and thank you to all the people who let me use their's as fans in this chapter!)

also let me know if any of y'all are comfortable with being scara haters, venti can't keep doing the work for you

˚୨୧⋆｡ synopsis:  the bright lights of fame and fortune aren’t for everyone, and you’re starting to think you’re part of that majority. You just can’t seem to catch a break! Every movie you’re in goes straight to DVD, every album you drop just barely gets any streams. From child star to sub par popstar, it seems clear that the world has some kind of vendetta against you and you love to blame it on a certain rising musical sensation; Scaramouche. Thanks to your godforsaken luck you happened to go out with the wrong guy at the wrong time because he just so happened to be Scaramouche’s ex, next thing you know you wake up to truck loads of death threats, your record label dropping you, AND a whole album labelling you as the ‘other woman’! After what seemed like a never ending onslaught of straight bullying and harassment, you had long since retreated from the limelight, the only thing left from your music career being ever so occasional covers on YouTube that only your few close friends watched religiously. However, after writing a heartfelt original piece and uploading it from your humble bedroom, it goes viral! A single song has thrusted you head first into stardom once more, and face to face with the person you ruined it for you.

<- prev ll masterlist ll next ->

🍬 (open) taglist: @shrii-kk @freyao7 @analiee6 @thetwinkims @bellflower1257 @blvdmrcnry @bloukoup @yuan1819 @yourstrulymauki @fungaltoehehe @enrions @atlatcaheart @mywillt0live @myeomiz @adornavia @automaticpatroltragedy @scaraenthusiast1 @sesamemin @syunifu @blueberrybxba @fishii28 @a-sorrowful-tune @emvss @jiminscarmex @mwaiu @lloversss @d4y-dr3am3r @usagiarchive @idaissupercool @raytoebiter @lizzie-harper @anqelkoz @blue-moonies @lalalaloveallmydays @jinjjjia

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine Al Haitham who was in frantic, earning glances in the crown as he navigate his way through the busy city. While they have seen the former acting grand Sage taking this route everyday. It is not everyday they get see the man running, sweat rolling down his temple as he seemed to be chasing something. Faster. He thought. You have to be there faster.

Imagine Al Haitham who almost slam the door as soon as he reached your house but manage to regain his cool and gently open and close the door without missing a beat. It did not took him that long to find you on your bedroom floor, in a squat position, silent tears rolling down your cheeks. Right beside you was your pet, peacefully laying there as if he was asleep. But you and him knew better than that. He was gone.

Imagine Al Haitham whom without a word, kneel down beside you and pull you into his embrace. That was it took for you break down crying. You just collapse in his arms and started sobbing. Your hands clenching on his chest. You just, you just lost it. "They told me he would be okay.." You cried. "I did what they told me to do..." You sob, voice full of pain and sadness. "I was with him the whole time..." He could only gulp the lump on his throat. "He was just sleeping so peaceful..." "I know..." He replied.

Imagine Al Haitham who was gently caresses your back, trying to ease out your breathing as you sob uncontrollably. The way be pat you gently at the back as you slowly calm down. One of his hands travelling all the way up to your head and run his finger through your hair, soothing you out. As much as he wants to tell you it's alright, that it's okay. He knew that was not the case. You are not okay, you just lost your best friend, your son, your favourite. He will not tell you it's alright.

Imagine Al Haitham who gently peel you off his chest, you tear stained messed up face coming into view but the two of you do not give a damn. Gently, he looked at your face. Hands reaching out and carefully wipe off tears on your cheeks, pry off lost strands of your hair away from your face. "Hey..." He gently grab your face with both hands. Gently, he rest his forehead against yours. "I know you did your best." He started, once again he felt you shaking. "Thank you for staying by his side till the end." Once again you started crying.

Imagine the way Al Haitham kept running his hand through your back. Tapping and caressing while once again wsiting for you to calm down. He does not know how long the two of you have been sitting in there on the floor and honestly he does not give a damn. Nevertheless, he glance at your pet not so far away from the two of you, a pang on his chest occurs. While it does not hurt him as much as it hurt you. It does not mean that it does not hurt.

Imagine the moment Al Haitham kept you slowly dozing off on his tear soaked shoulder. He gently tap you on your arm. "Rest." You hear him say. "I'll take care of our little guy here." You hear him added. "Would that be okay with you?" You felt him caresses the side of your face. Tired, you tried to open your heavy lids but ended with a hand covering your eyes. Soon, a tear slip past those hand. "Please." Your voice was hoarse, it held so much pain and sorrow. "Please do." "You don't have to say please." He utter before kissing your forehead. "Take a rest, please."

Imagine Al Haitham does not know how long this would hurt you, how long it will take you to heal from such tragedy. But he would be there with you in every step you needed to take. "I'm here." As you lay there in bed asleep. He held your hand with both of his. While he does not know how to ease the pain, he hoped that his presence could ease a little bit of pain you would feel again once you wake up. "I'm here."

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: My cat died yesterday. It hurts.

[screamingcrows]

I, and many others, have observed a tendency within fandom (especially with x reader) where readers are going from interacting/partaking to being silent observers. What's worse, writers can post a fic and get little to no interaction on it, but the moment they write something for themselves, either oc or self insert, people are quick to jump into their inbox to anonymously criticize them.

Writers stop sharing if it feels like throwing hard work into the void. So dear readers, under what circumstances do you reblog a fanfic?

[phoenixblaze1412]

Hellooo :D can i request dottore & segments reaction to dottores kid befriending scaramouche?

The first time Dottore caught wind of your so-called ‘friendship’ with Scaramouche, he nearly short-circuited.

“Excuse me?” he asked, peering down at you from behind his mask. His tone was cold, almost clinical, but there was a dangerous undertone to it. “You’ve been spending time with who?”

You blinked up at him innocently. “Scaramouche! He’s funny.”

Dottore sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “That is not the word I would use.”

The segments reacted in varying degrees of horror.

Alpha was the first to object. “Absolutely not. He is erratic and volatile. You are a child.”

Beta, always the most pragmatic, crossed his arms. “Statistically speaking, Scaramouche has a 97% chance of emotionally scarring them within a week.”

Theta, ever the instigator, smirked. “Or teaching them some very colorful vocabulary. I vote we let this happen just to see how unhinged it gets.”

Zeta frowned deeply. “I don’t like it.”

Omega, the strictest of the group, went straight to damage control. “We need to put a stop to this before it escalates.”

Unfortunately for them, ‘putting a stop to it’ was easier said than done. Scaramouche had already decided you were his little accomplice in mischief, and you found his biting sarcasm endlessly amusing.

The first time the segments actually saw you with Scaramouche, it was worse than they imagined.

Theta had been the unlucky one sent to ‘retrieve’ you from the courtyard. He found you sitting next to Scaramouche on a bench, giggling as he ranted about something or another.

“I mean, really, the incompetence I deal with daily is astonishing,” Scaramouche sneered. “Do you know what one of the recruits said to me today? ‘Maybe you should try being nicer, my lord.’ Can you believe that?”

You gasped dramatically. “No! That’s terrible!”

Theta watched in horror as you patted Scaramouche’s arm in mock sympathy.

Scaramouche huffed. “Exactly! If I were any nicer, they’d walk all over me.”

Theta slowly backed away before sprinting back to the lab. “We have a problem,” he panted as he burst into the room.

Dottore, who had been working on a new project, barely spared him a glance. “Define ‘problem.’”

“They’re—” Theta wheezed. “They’re enabling him.”

Silence.

Then, chaos.

Omega and Alpha staged an intervention. It failed spectacularly.

Omega knelt down in front of you, placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “Listen, you need to understand. Scaramouche is—” He glanced at Alpha, searching for the right word.

“A menace,” Alpha supplied helpfully.

Omega nodded. “A menace. He is not a good influence.”

You frowned. “But he’s nice to me.”

Alpha snorted. “That’s because you haven’t gotten on his bad side yet.”

“Well, maybe you guys are just mean to him,” you said with a shrug.

Omega’s eye twitched. “That’s not how this works.”

Meanwhile, in the background, Theta and Zeta were placing bets on how long before Dottore stepped in personally.

Dottore did, in fact, step in personally.

He found you in the same courtyard, this time listening intently as Scaramouche gave what seemed to be an impassioned speech about why authority was a joke.

“—and that’s why you should never blindly follow orders,” Scaramouche concluded, crossing his arms.

Dottore cleared his throat loudly.

You turned, eyes lighting up. “Dad!”

Scaramouche, however, groaned. “Ugh. You.”

Dottore’s lips curled into something vaguely resembling a smile. “Scaramouche.”

“I thought I told you to stop multiplying.”

“And I thought I told you to stop being insufferable.”

They stared each other down like two rival predators. You, completely unfazed, looked between them. “You guys argue like old men who plays chess.”

Dottore choked. Scaramouche made a face like he had just been personally insulted.

“…I’m leaving,” Scaramouche muttered, standing up. “Your kid is weird.”

Dottore exhaled slowly before turning back to you. “Why do you insist on spending time with him?”

You tilted your head. “Because he listens to me.”

That gave Dottore pause. He studied you carefully, noting the genuine happiness in your expression. Scaramouche was, objectively, a terrible influence—but he had never seen you this animated before.

“…Very well,” he said at last, much to Omega’s absolute horror.

“You’re allowing this?” Omega hissed later that evening. “After everything we discussed?”

Dottore hummed. “For now.”

Because, as much as he loathed to admit it, Scaramouche had one redeeming quality: he made you smile.

And for Dottore, that was enough… even if it meant suffering through Scaramouche’s presence.

Though that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make the Harbinger’s life just a little difficult in return.

[pukefactory]

༺｡° .ᘛ PULSE OF FIRE ᘚ. °｡༻

࿇ Summary: Dating Arlecchino Headcannons

࿇ Character(s): Arlecchino (Genshin Impact)

࿇ Genre: Headcannons, SFW

࿇ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

࿇ Image Credits: @necroangelz

♱ Arlecchino does not enter relationships lightly. Love, to her, is an arrangement—strategic, deliberate. If she chooses you, it means she has measured your strengths, weighed your flaws, and deemed you worthy of standing beside her. That alone should tell you how much you mean to her.

♱ The children of the House of the Hearth take an immediate interest in you. At first, they watch from the shadows, whispering about the stranger who has stolen their “Father’s” time. But once they see how Arlecchino looks at you—how her sharp edges soften in your presence—they begin seeking you out. Some out of curiosity, others out of a quiet yearning to be reassured that this, too, will not be another fleeting attachment.

♱ Arlecchino does not indulge in public displays of affection. She believes love is not something to be flaunted but demonstrated through actions. A glance that lingers a moment too long, a hand that brushes yours in passing—small, precise gestures that betray the depth of her feelings. And yet, if anyone were to attempt to harm you, the controlled veneer would shatter in an instant. The world would learn just how dangerous it is to cross The Knave.

♱ Despite her confidence, Arlecchino harbors a quiet fear—of betrayal, of loss, of growing too attached to something she cannot control. She watches you closely, listens to the cadence of your voice, the way you choose your words. It is not distrust; it is simply in her nature to anticipate the worst. The day she stops looking for signs of deception is the day she has truly accepted you.

♱ To be loved by Arlecchino is to walk beside danger. You are not just her lover; you are someone she must now protect, a potential weakness that could be exploited. The Fatui have eyes everywhere, and she knows that her enemies will not hesitate to use you against her. And so, she teaches you how to defend yourself, how to recognize a trap, how to disappear should the need arise. It is not paranoia—it is preparation.

♱ Arlecchino values honesty above all else. Deception is a weapon, a tool she wields with precision, but within the walls of your shared moments, there is no room for games. “If you have something to say, say it,” she tells you, her voice measured but firm. “Do not make me dig for the truth.”

♱ On rare occasions, when duty does not demand her presence, Arlecchino allows herself to simply exist with you. A cup of black tea in hand, she listens as you recount the small details of your day. The fire crackles in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across her face. It is in these moments that she allows herself to imagine—just briefly—what it would be like to live a life free of war and deception.

♱ Arlecchino does not believe in coddling. She will push you to be stronger, to be sharper, because in her world, only the capable survive. But make no mistake—if you are in danger, she will carve a path of fire and ruin to ensure you remain unharmed. “You will not die before me,” she murmurs against your temple one night. “That is a promise I intend to keep.”

♱ There are moments—fleeting, almost imperceptible—where Arlecchino’s walls lower. The way her hand lingers at the small of your back when she walks past, the way she catches a strand of your hair between her fingers before letting it slip away. She will never be openly tender, but in the quiet spaces between battles and bloodshed, you will see glimpses of the woman she could have been in another life.

♱ Arlecchino does not say “I love you” outright. The words feel flimsy, insufficient. Instead, she gives you a dagger engraved with her mark, a symbol of trust and protection. “If the time ever comes when you must use it,” she says, her voice low, “then you will know that my love is not a thing of words, but of actions.”

[theslumberinggod]

For Enrichment! (Oneshot)

Summary: You teach Xiao what enrichment is, and he realizes how much you mean to him.

Pairing: Xiao X Reader

•~°~•

“Oh dear,” You voice reached Xiao’s pointed ears, gently tugging him out of his keen observation of the night-soaked marsh, “My nail-paint is fading.”

Golden eyes flicked over to you momentarily to catch a glimpse of your frown, before going back out to the sunset-stricken landscape ahead. The frown of yours stirred a concoction of emotions in his chest, eliciting a furrow of his brow as he wondered what there was to be so upset about from the artificial color of your nails fading as it always does. Few would he feel comfortable questioning, because few would he want for an answer he would value---but from you things were different.

“Why do you care so much about that nail color anyways? Why do you even paint them?” Xiao asked, soft voice tinged with its usual rasp and unintentional scrutinizing tone.

Ever patient you were, you looked up and smiled, illuminated by the moonlight. You were leaning perhaps a little languidly on the rail, and the thought flickers through his head how pretty you were against the backdrop of the marsh. He pulls his eyes away from you as you absentmindedly rubbed your nails.

“Well, first off,” You hum, “The color is less pretty when it's all faded. And secondly, it's just fun, you know?”

Xiao furrowed his brow. Fun was not in his vocabulary.

“Than,” He attempted to be gentler, letting himself surrender to the curiosity within, the strange and foreign desire sitting in his head like a nagging little thing, “What is the point?”

“Why, enrichment, of course!” You answer as if it was clear and plain. Folded arms, the Yaksha tapped his fingernails along his arm, slightly angling himself towards you but kept his eyes on the marsh, remaining diligent. Diligent and doubtful of your statement. “Life is meant to be enjoyed, at least sometimes, Xiao. Little pretty things in life are little and pretty, but doesn't that make them all add up into something wonderful?”

He turned the idea over in his head. Life---meant to be enjoyable.

“I still don't understand,” Xiao answered honestly. “I do not like my nails stained.”

“Well sure,” Patient. Patient you ever were, too many humans got so frustrated with him, and he with them, but the patience you displayed made him wonder if you lived longer than your captivating beauty led him to believe. “But my lovely demon hunter, what about Almond Tofu?”

Almond Tofu. Then it clicked. He did enjoy almond Tofu a great deal. Life he wasn't sure about it being meant to be enjoyed, but perhaps that belief of yours is what led you to him, because for some strange reason you saw him and decided to love him despite his blood-stained soul, so unworthy of devotion.

But he enjoyed Almond Tofu. He enjoyed a cool breeze, the peaceful moments before a patrol, the time spent with you, listening to your musings---the way you looked at him.

Away from the marsh surely crawling with things soon to be slayed, Xiao looked at you.

“To enrich life then?” Into your eyes he stared. He thinks you're enriching. Something fleeting, unexpected, but also here to stay. If you were not here, Xiao would simply go on as he did before. But, he thinks he would've lost something. This---you---were what humans called the spice of life, he thinks to himself. Perhaps more. Much more.

“To enrich life,” You nodded with asureness. “It's okay to indulge in little things every now and then, maybe pointless, but delightful nonetheless.”

You weren't pointless, not to Xiao. Not at all, he realizes in that moment. His own opinion forms; Enrichment was not pointless at all. You were enrichment. And you...

Desire struck him, and he inwardly cringed, tapping his fingers along his arm once more, golden stare intense. You did not shrink, he stood close.

“I…”

“Yes?”

Patient. Patient. Patient.

Beautiful.

He thinks you're breathtaking.

Maybe this once, he would indulge in enrichment other than Almond Tofu. So he leaned forward, and brushed his lips against yours. The feeling was like lightning coursing through him, wonderful and horribly alarming at the same time.

The blush on your cheeks, your wide eyes, the smile on your lips as you lifted a hand to touch your lips---yes that look…

It was Xiao’s enrichment.

You enriched his life.

You made it good.

[oh-wiw]

Shifting around you slowly open your eyes. When did you even close them? It was already evening. Shifting your head around to be greeted with the moon and its starless night sky. You groan and rub your temples, ignoring the electric feeling of your arms for using them as your pillows last night.

Ah, yes the consequence of sleeping on your desk instead of the perfectly made bed beside it…

Despite it, you're still exhausted.

✧✧✧✧✧

That's been happening a lot recently. Every time you close your eyes to sleep or rest. You feel even more exhausted than when you were awake.

It was mostly dreamless sleep for you or maybe you just don't remember the details of your dreams.

You stretch, trying to soothe your back from sleeping at your desk. The bright screen from your laptop easily caught your attention, your profile pic is displayed in the center. Seems like you slept in voice call again, you quickly type something on chat and shut off the device.

Elegantly dragging your body to bed, and flopping head first onto the mattress. You stayed there for a moment, shifting your head to your side so that you could breathe. You close your eyes and letting sleep overtake you as your body relaxes. And it came slowly but surely, as you feel yourself starting to drift off. Allowing sleep to embrace you. 

However, before it fully enveloped you. You jolt awake exclaiming, "My resins!"

Now fully conscious, you frantically get your phone and log into the game.

You hoped that your game would run smoothly this time, after experiencing some technical difficulties earlier in the day. The game unexpectedly disconnected while you were opening chests, and your attempt to log back in was met with a loading bar that refused to move.

This wasn't the first time it happened, so you weren't too worried at first. Thinking it was most likely something wrong with Genshin itself, as your game either kept freezing or just plain glitching. Even when you log in your account on your laptop, the problem just kept following you. 

You didn’t bother to report it or ask the others if they have the same issue. Because it only rarely happens and you were still able to play the game. So there wasn't really a problem. Besides your phone burning up, but that's just normal.

You just hope that it’ll actually let you enter the game. All you need is to use all your resin and then you'll go back to bed. The stone door creaks open, and you set your eyes on the loading screen, waiting for the Pyro element symbol to make its appearance. But it never did. 

Guess you’ll just let your resin cap today. Annoyed, you place your phone on the bed and gaze at the ceiling. Your vision is slightly blurred, and a headache is threatening to form. You attempt to relax your body, starting by massaging your temples to alleviate the pain in your head.

Why are you having a headache right now? you pondered, figuring since you did miss dinner today… and yesterday… and the day after that….

… 

Finally concerned for your health, you decided to get out of bed and head to the kitchen to eat something. Bur not forgetting to pocket your phone.

Upon reaching out your hand to turn the knob, you are overcome with a sudden bout of excruciating pain. Your headache worsens, as the room begins to spin, and your vision turns completely white. Your body collapses to the door, as you frantically grab onto the knob in search of support, but to no avail, in your weakened state, you accidentally open the door and tumble to the ground.

Lying there for an undetermined amount of time, you concentrate on your breathing, attempting to lessen the agonizing pain. After a while, the pain began to fade leaving you with a sense of discomfort. Although you remained to lie on the ground, gathering your thoughts on what just happened. 

It wasn't until you start to take notice of prickling sensations on your skin and how the cold wind blows- Wait wind?!

You immediately push yourself and are greeted by the sight of the towering cliff and millions of glittering stars. The purple and blue hue, which contrasted perfectly with the vast, dark night sky, captured your eyes and the bright, glowing Moon accompanied the starry vista. It all filled you with disbelief and confusion.

You weren’t able to appreciate its captivating beauty, not when your eyes are stuck in the distance, where a familiar island floats in the sky.

Struck silent, you stay staring at the horizon thinking it’ll fade and disappear if you stare hard enough. But to no avail, it didn't. So you try to blink away the view but it still refuses to disappear from your vision. "No, this cannot be happening," you mutter, as panic starts to settle in. 

A moment ago, you were in your apartment; how did you end up in such a familiar yet foreign place? Struggling to make sense of your situation, you become overwhelmed with a sense of helplessness and uncertainty, desperately trying to understand why you are here and how to get back, but no explanation comes to mind. 

With shallow, erratic breaths, you attempt to collect yourself and look around, only to see a field surrounded by towering cliffs and the remnants of old Mondstadt. A gentle teal glow emanates from the center tower you know is called Stromterror’s Lair, what was supposed to be only fiction: further on adding to your confusion and fear.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, easing your tension, as you try to hold off the mounting sense of panic that threatens to overtake you. You remind yourself that everything will be okay, that this is just a weird dream that your brain decided to mess with you.

Not wanting to look at the sight and to stir further panic within yourself, you looked down instead. Your hands grip the grass beneath you. You can feel the texture of the soil as it shifts under your hands, and the sensation of the prickly grass prickling your skin sends shivers down your spine. 

This is one hell of a vivid dream.

Shaking off the overwhelming feeling, you quickly get to your feet to leave. But as you turn around, you were only greeted by a lone, stony arch, with overgrown ruins positioned behind it. Disbelief and utter confusion wash over you as you begin to question if you've lost your sanity or if you are suffering from some sort of mental break or delusion.

You stood still for a moment as your breathing started to go heavy. The archway still looms before you, reminding you of your confusing reality. So you closed your eyes and forcefully took a deep breath. Gently pulling your hair back to soothe yourself for a moment. 

You know exactly what to do. 

There’s only one logical action for this situation.

✧✧✧✧✧

Somewhere far, on a large tree where the wind is always blowing there sits a green-clad bard in one of the tree's many branches. Cider by his side, the bard strums a lovely tune throughout the night. 

It’s a peaceful night in Mondstat, and everyone is laid to rest as the bright moon looks over the knights who guards the city. The wind tells bard wishes and stories, making him chuckle and hum in introspection.

Until a scream was heard making the bard jolt from his spot and almost dropping his lyre. He wondered why the wind brought him such a sound. 

Seems like the sound came from between Stromterror’s Lair and Wolvendom, the wind more noted specifically at Brightcrown Mountains. As he lilt his head to look west where the ruins of old Mondstadt lay.

“Who could be awake at this time of day… and more importantly are they okay?”

[fangdokja]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫 ~ 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐬

He’s been at it for hours.

You’re trembling, body wrecked from the overstimulation, legs too weak to even try to close around his head. But he doesn’t stop.

He won’t stop.

Childe groans against your swollen cunt, tongue dragging through your folds with a slow, lazy hunger, like he’s savoring a last meal. His grip on your thighs is bruising, keeping you spread open, keeping you at his mercy.

“Mmnh—fuck,” he slurs, voice dripping with arousal, completely pussy drunk. “So sweet—so wet—”

You sob when his tongue flicks against your clit, body convulsing at the raw, unbearable pleasure. Your heat-swollen nerves can’t take anymore, but he doesn’t care.

He’s obsessed.

He drinks you down like a man dying of thirst, sloppy, messy, spit and slick dripping down his chin. The obscene sounds echo through the dimly lit room—squelching, wet, depraved.

Your fingers claw at the sheets.

Your body jerks when he moans, the vibration shattering through your core.

“Mm, that’s it,” he breathes, voice thick and wrecked. His teeth graze over your sensitive flesh, just enough to make you flinch. “Squirm for me, baby.”

His tongue plunges inside you, curling, thrusting, fucking you on nothing but his mouth. The heat in your gut swells, unbearable, too much—

And then he suckles your clit.

You scream.

Your vision whites out, body arching, another orgasm crashing through you in violent waves. He groans, rutting against the mattress like an animal, desperate, needy.

But he still doesn’t stop.

His hands grip your waist, dragging you further down onto his tongue, forcing you to take more, even as you sob and beg. He’s a man possessed, lost in the taste of you, licking, sucking, fucking you open like he’s trying to ruin you from the inside out.

His voice is barely coherent. “Can’t—can’t get enough—fuck, you taste so good—gonna eat you up—”

You convulse, your body breaking under the pleasure, but he just moans into your cunt, tongue pushing deeper, greedier, hungrier.

You don’t know if he’ll ever stop.

Official TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @save4h , @rofkshinee , @songbirdgardensworld , @yanderedrabbles

[mona-risms]

my first ever request is sub navia getting dicked down in public. thats my wife i love my blode wife!!!

◆ MAIN COURSE: sub!Navia x dom!Reader

◆ TYPE: NSFW

◆ ALLERGEN WARNINGS: Public sex? Semi-public sex? Idk actually, reader has either a dick or is packing tbh reader's choice

◆ NOTES: blode lol. Also I might've slightly maybe missed the point a teeny tiny bit..maybe??? Idk tbf. ALSO also if this sucks, my bad 😭😭😭 I don't think I've written in a WHIIIIILE.

NAVIANAVIANAVIA MYYY LOOOOVE OH my god this woman has a CHOKEHOLD on me...........and this woman wants your chokehold on her LOL

Navia was never the shy type. Not the showoff type either, she's a great balance, but when it comes to you? OH she's an absolute menace when it comes to bragging about her love of her life

This DOES translate to.....teasing the living shit out of you though 🫶 and she's a MENACE at it too

This was supposed to be a fun date between the two of you, a day out with no responsibilities and a lot of food.

And it was. It is. Yeah.

But with the way Navia was acting, you were feeling.. other things too.

It started off with subtle gestures throughout the day—accidental grazes, lingering touches and heated looks. Though perhaps the hyperawareness that came with being in the proximity of your lover didn't help with noticing every 'accidental' microgesture that gripped your attention like a vice.

But then came the.. less-than-subtle actions.

Leaning forward a touch too far that it exposed the curve of her chest, getting too close that your bodies are pushed against each other, using all sorts of wordplay as if it were a private joke between the two of you, bending down to inspect something further or pick something up that you'd have to stand behind her as her skirt rode up just a bit too much, amongst other things. You knew your girlfriend was a tease—she has no shame in admitting that she finds your reactions adorable—but right now she's being especially...

Your thoughts trail off as you see her. Or rather, the impish smirk she wore as she watched you.

This girl wants to 🤗🤗 rile you up 🤗🤗🤗 to see what happens 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗 and oh wow oh WOW she gets what she wants ahahahahaha she's like one double entendre away from being forced down on her knees in a dressing room at a clothing store, her mouth being given a better purpose aka deepthroating you LOL

You barely even have walls you only get curtains bc it's one of those chain stores like. Idk. Primark or smth idk what example to use for Americans BUT IT'S JUST FUCKING CURTAINS AND INCOMPLETE BARRIER WALLS so you can hear every single noise from anywhere and everywhere.......and you know what THAT means 🤗🤗🤗

KEEP QUIET or don't. The staff might investigate though

Ughghfh Navia moving up and down your length, most likely with her gag reflex long since beaten from Very Energetic Nights. You'd have to control her movements yourself though via clenching onto her hair to minimise the absolutely FILTHY noises that she'd make too

I personally think Navia would be MESSY 🤗🤗🤗 like she's proper and everything normally—dabbing the corners of her mouth daintily with a napkin when she eats, dusting imaginary lint off herself, so on and so forth—but when it comes to sex, all that polite cleanliness is OFF THE TABLE❗️❗️❗️ Drool would be seeping from the corners of her mouth and her cunt would be dripping if it weren't for her ruined panties absorbing her wetness

In terms of vocality, I think she'd be deliberately vocal too LOL like she CAN keep quiet.......but does she want to? Kinda no! While MOSTLY obedient, she's a bit of a brat when it comes to that, especially when you're absolutely railing her six ways to fucking Sunday in public

The whine that escaped your lover forced you to keep still.

It's not as if the changing rooms were so quiet that you could hear every micro-movement echoing within the space—not only was it bustling with people coming and going, but the music lightly blaring from background speakers was already more than enough to drown minor sounds anyway. Though it could just be your hyper-awareness from the risk of getting caught in a public space, you noticed a conversation from next door's cubicle cut off seconds after Navia had made a sound.

You looked at your blonde lover, her crinkling eyes full of lust and mirth a contrast to your rising panic reflected on azure blue. Hell, you could feel the light smirk against your covering palm.

Beyond the bustle of the environment was a piercing quiet between your cubicle and the cubicle next door.. and then?

You hear the sound of a curtain being shoved aside—theirs, not yours—before footsteps faded into background chatter. You'd have breathed easy, if it weren't for the sudden movement of Navia's hips, your length suddenly enveloped by velvet heat. In retaliation, you thrusts were frustratingly shallow as her other hand snaked up to wrap around the other's neck, not squeezing but holding. Owning.

Later, she would be disciplined properly. Right now, she needed to be tortured.

(The both of you don't even make it back to your shared home before discipline was due.)