|| 18+ || MINOR DNI || post random shits here lol || I have social anxiety so uhm, if you ever chat with me in pms or reblogs, I'm very sorry for either not replying or for every mistake of my messages, I type fast and very shy.
I LOVED your cam boy Giyu hc!!! I would like to request a fic in which reader is dating him and doesn’t know about what he does for work. Until reader has a sleepover with mitsuri and they’re watching movies on her laptop and she accidentally clicks on a saved tab (his live) then reader is like holy shit that’s my bf then reader goes home and tries to act cool and fails miserably
Caught Cum Handed
⌞art by Seriu_eau on twt⌝
⧽⧽⧽ You sleep over at Mitsuri's place. As you are both getting settled in to watch a movie, she clicks on a tab that reveals your boyfriend's true income.
Mitsuri’s room was warm and cozy, lit by the soft glow of her pink salt lamp. You were sprawled across her bed, legs tangled in a blanket, popcorn bowl between you both as she scrolled through her laptop.
“Okay!” she chirped. “I found the perfect movie for tonight. It’s got romance, comedy, and a really dramatic confession scene that made me cry for like…twenty minutes.”
You laughed. “That sounds like you.”
She beamed. “I know, right?”
She clicked her browser.
A tab opened.
Not the movie site.
Something else.
It was legs and a thick cock on the screen. The hand pumping the man's cock at a fast pace, moans coming out of the speaker.
Cum was shooting out from the tip and onto the toned abdomen of the man before you on the other side of the screen.
The thing is you recognized that penis.
It didn't belong to just anyone.
It was one you sucked.
One that fucked you.
One that made you feel amazing in every way possible.
That was your boyfriend's dick on Mitsuri's laptop!
Something that made Mitsuri gasp, slap the laptop shut, and stare at the closed lid like it had personally betrayed her.
“Oh my god” she squeaked. “I didn’t mean to click that! That was—just—ignore that! That was—not for sleepover vibes!”
You blinked, heart suddenly pounding. “Uh…okay?”
She waved her hands frantically. “I swear I wasn’t watching anything weird! It was just...something someone sent me! I forgot it was open!”
You swallowed hard.
Because you had seen enough.
Not the details.
Not the content.
Just a hand wrapped around a cock with moans that filled your ears every other night.
Your stomach dropped.
Mitsuri didn’t notice. She was already reopening the browser, clicking the correct tab this time, babbling nervously.
“Okay! Movie time! Let’s pretend that never happened! Haha! Ha…ha…”
You nodded numbly. “Yeah. Sure.”
She pressed play.
But you didn’t hear the movie.
Your mind was stuck on that split second.
That image.
That unmistakable profile.
You didn’t know what the tab was.
You didn’t know why he was in it.
You didn’t know what it meant.
But you knew one thing:
Giyuu Tomioka was not who he said he was.
You barely slept.
Mitsuri snored softly beside you, hugging her pillow, blissfully unaware of the existential crisis happening three feet away.
You lay awake, staring at the ceiling.
Why was he there? What was he doing? What does he actually do for work?
You replayed every moment you’d ever asked him about his job.
He always answered vaguely.
He always changed the subject.
He always looked guilty.
You swallowed hard.
When Mitsuri woke up, stretching adorably, she smiled at you. “Good morning! Did you sleep okay?”
You lied. “Yeah.”
She didn’t question it. “Let’s get breakfast!”
You agreed, but your mind was somewhere else entirely.
You walked into Giyuu’s house with your heart in your throat.
He was in the kitchen, hair tied loosely, wearing a soft navy shirt and sweatpants. He looked so normal. So gentle. So…Giyuu.
He turned when he heard you.
“Welcome home,” he said quietly. “Did you have fun?”
You stared at him.
Really stared.
Suddenly everything felt different.
The way he moved. The way he stood. The way his eyes flicked over you, assessing, calm, steady.
It was nothing compared to seeing him jerk off on camera for hundreds to see, including your best friend. Poor girl didn't know it was your boyfriend.
You saw him in a new light; sharper, heavier, more dangerous, more mysterious.
He frowned. “Are you okay?”
You tried to act normal.
You failed instantly.
“Me? Yeah! Totally fine! Sleepover was great! Mitsuri is great! Movies were great! Everything is great!”
He blinked. “You’re talking fast.”
“No I’m not! This is my normal speed!”
He stepped closer, concern deepening. “You look pale.”
“I’m not pale! You’re pale!”
He stared at you. “…I’m always pale.”
You made a strangled noise. “Right! Haha! True!”
He tilted his head. “Did something happen?”
You opened your mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
“Nope!” you squeaked. “Nothing happened! Everything is normal!”
He studied you for a long moment, eyes soft but searching.
“…You’re acting strange.”
You laughed nervously. “No I’m not!”
He raised an eyebrow.
You looked away, cheeks burning.
Because you couldn’t tell him. Not yet. Not until you understood what you saw. Not until you figured out how to ask without sounding insane.
So you stood there, pretending everything was fine, while your heart raced and your mind screamed.
Giyuu reached out, gently brushing your hair behind your ear.
“Whatever it is,” he murmured, “you can tell me.”
You swallowed hard.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “I know.”
But you didn’t.
Not yet.
Not until you were ready.
Giyuu; quiet, patient, unknowable, simply watched you, unaware that your entire world had shifted overnight.
A few hours later:
You
hey mits!
i don't mean to bring this up in a super weird way, but the man on your computer last night was giyuu
Mitsuri
OH MY GOD
Y/N I'M SO SORRY
I NEVER MEANT FOR THAT TO HAPPEN, PLEASE FORGIVE ME!
You
it's fine! i was shocked as well 😭
i didn't know he had an OF
im still processing
Mitsuri
Y/N, i canceled my subscription. I'm so so so so very sorry!!!
i never mean to start anything, if i did
have you brought it up to him????
You
no
i'm kind of nervous to say something
Mitsuri
That's understandable
I hope we're sill friends, though. I don't wanna lose you over something like this ☹️
You
Of course! It's nothing deep if you already canceled everything.
I love you still <3
Mitsuri
AWWHWH I LOVE YOU TOO
You set your phone down and took a deep breath, slapping your cheeks to calm yourself down.
You had to say something.
And soon.
a/n: tummy hurts from too much little caesars detroit deep dish pizzaauhhhhhh
⊹₊⋆ Headcanons for Plushie! Giyuu who turned human.
๋࣭⭑ He remembers everything. Every muffled conversation, every late‑night rant, every time you tossed him across the bed while looking for your charger, every time you got dressed; all of it is stored with perfect clarity. Plushie silence didn’t mean plushie ignorance.
๋࣭⭑ Your voice was his anchor. Even when you weren’t talking to him directly, he memorized the cadence of your speech, the way you laugh when your friends say something stupid, the way your tone softens when you’re tired.
๋࣭⭑ He knows your routines better than you do. The exact time you usually get up, the way you stretch before leaving bed, the order you put on your skincare; he watched it all from his unmoving vantage point.
๋࣭⭑ Giyuu felt every touch. Plush fabric dulled sensation, but he still felt pressure, warmth, and movement. The way you hugged him tight at night was the closest thing he had to a heartbeat.
๋࣭⭑ He developed a quiet devotion. Being held so close, so often, made him feel chosen even if he couldn’t respond. You were the only person who ever treated him like something precious.
๋࣭⭑ He got jealous of your phone. Not in a dramatic way, but he noticed how often you cuddled him while scrolling, laughing at things he couldn’t see. He wanted to be the thing that made you laugh.
๋࣭⭑ Giyuu loved being your comfort object. Every time you squeezed him during a stressful call or buried your face in him after a long day, he felt needed. It gave him purpose.
๋࣭⭑ He hated when you cried. Plushie immobility was torture. Giyuu wanted to wipe your tears, but all he could do was absorb them into his fabric and hope you felt less alone.
๋࣭⭑ Giyuu felt temperature changes. When you left him in the sun, he felt warm and drowsy. When you forgot him on the floor near the AC, he felt cold and lonely.
๋࣭⭑ He could tell when you washed him. The water felt like drowning and rebirth at the same time; terrifying but cleansing.
๋࣭⭑ Giyuu always knew when you squeezed him too hard. Not painful, but startling. He always wondered what emotion caused it; excitement? frustration? affection?
๋࣭⭑ He loved being tucked under your chin. That was the closest he ever felt to being human: your breath warming his plush head, your heartbeat vibrating through your chest.
๋࣭⭑ He woke up already knowing you. No confusion, no panic; just the overwhelming relief of finally being able to move, speak, breathe.
๋࣭⭑ His first instinct was to check on you. He didn’t care about his new body; he cared about whether you were safe, comfortable, and not frightened by his transformation.
๋࣭⭑ He was overwhelmed by sensation. Real skin, real breath, real warmth; everything felt too sharp, too vivid. But your presence grounded him instantly.
๋࣭⭑ Giyuu was embarrassed by his height. He’s taller than you now, but he remembers being small enough to fit in your arms. The shift feels intimate and strange.
๋࣭⭑ He’s emotionally fluent with you only. He learned your moods over years of plushie observation, so he understands you better than he understands himself.
๋࣭⭑ Soft‑spoken but deeply observant. He’s used to watching silently, so he still prefers listening over talking.
๋࣭⭑ Protective in a quiet way. He doesn’t hover or nag, he simply positions himself between you and anything that might hurt you.
๋࣭⭑ He’s awkward with physical freedom. He sometimes forgets he can move on his own and freezes in place out of habit.
๋࣭⭑ Giyuu is shy about affection. As a plushie, you hugged him constantly. As a human, he blushes when you brush his arm.
๋࣭⭑ He still seeks proximity. He sits close enough to touch you, but not so close that it seems intentional unless you invite him.
๋࣭⭑ Giyuu remembers every cuddle. Every night you held him tight is etched into his memory. He treasures those moments more than anything.
๋࣭⭑ He’s quietly possessive. Not in a toxic way; he just feels like he belongs with you, because you were the one who cared for him when he was helpless.
๋࣭⭑ Your loud phone calls used to amuse him. Now he tries not to smile too much when you get animated while gaming.
๋࣭⭑ He still flinches when you toss things on the bed. Old instincts; he remembers being thrown around accidentally. Giyuu remembers every time you consoled his plushie form when he hit the wall the floor.
๋࣭⭑ Giyuu loves watching you get ready. He used to see it from a fixed angle; now he can admire the details up close.
๋࣭⭑ He’s fascinated by your hands. They used to hold him every night. Now they’re warm, expressive, alive, and he can hold them back.
๋࣭⭑ He curls up small when he sleeps. Old habit; he’s used to being compact.
๋࣭⭑ He freezes when overwhelmed. "Plushie instincts" tell him to stay still and wait.
๋࣭⭑ Giyuu loves being held. He’ll never admit it out loud, but being hugged makes him feel safe in a way nothing else does.
๋࣭⭑ He folds your blankets with military precision. He watched you struggle with them for years.
๋࣭⭑ He keeps your room tidy. He remembers being kicked off the bed during cleaning sprees.
๋࣭⭑ Giyuu always checks your pillow before you sleep. Plushie instinct: make sure the human is comfortable.
Bonus
๋࣭⭑ He’s terrified you’ll stop needing him. As a plushie, his entire purpose was to comfort you. As a human, he worries he’s less useful.
๋࣭⭑ He’s grateful for every moment. Every conversation, every shared meal, every laugh; he never takes anything for granted.
๋࣭⭑ He feels undeserving of your affection. You loved him when he was nothing but fabric. Now that he’s human, he feels pressure to be worthy of that love.
๋࣭⭑ He’s quietly devoted. Not dramatic, not obsessive. Only deeply and unwaveringly loyal.
๋࣭⭑ He still sleeps on your side of the bed when you’re gone.
๋࣭⭑ He blushes when you call him “cute,” because you used to say it to his plush form.
๋࣭⭑ He sometimes sits in the exact spot you used to leave him, out of nostalgia.
๋࣭⭑ He melts when you hug him from behind; it reminds him of being held as a plushie.
characters ─ xiao, al haitham, scaramouche, varka, kaedehara kazuha, kyryll chudomirovich flins x f!reader
content ─ fluff, modern au, xiao's one was written like 2 or 3 years ago, not proofread, everyone is stupid here, projecting my girlfailureness onto reader, mention of blood in varka's part, a slight hint of angst if you squint enough. the prompts aren't mine!! i got them from different posts here years ago but i can't find them anymore. if you recognize any, please let me know so i can properly credit them !! hope you guys enjoy <3
genshin m.list ♡ each part is about 800-950 words long
until this day, you still had barely any clue on how you found yourself in a fake relationship with the famous drummer of the 6REEZE band.
a famous rockstar and a worldwide known actress.
the simple idea was ridiculous, you thought. your worlds had nearly nothing to do with each other.
his was a whirlwind of ear-deafening concerts, endless band practices and makeup so dark it made the amber shades of his eyes seem a little too hypnotizing for your heart to handle. on the other hand, yours was a soft and gentle lifestyle that included playing in heartwarming rom-coms and comforting yet soul shattering movies that left the deepest impressions in the viewers’ hearts.
the shock that nearly broke the internet on a global scale at the news of your relationship was nothing compared to the way you had nearly screamed while jumping out of your seat when your manager informed you of the next step in your career.
a break you had taken in the middle of your peak had awakened baseless rumors and provoked a decrease in your fame. and the solution was to date one of the most loved celebrities in liyue. and you still haven’t decided whether you hated your manager or not, yet.
not that you had the time.
between interviews, trying to get to know each other as fast as possible with xiao and luring the paparazzis into your supposedly “private” dates to keep appearances, you couldn’t help but catch a tiny teeny amount of feelings for the rockstar.
xiao was a bit too good at his role.
the arms around your waist, the hand at the small of your back and the occasional kisses you’d receive on your cheek or forehead to please your fans – sometimes enraging some. it all felt like a bunch of arrows being shot one at a time in your direction, piercing your chest open and urging you to hand your heart over to your fake boyfriend.
and this whole act was definitely getting to you.
after attending one of his concerts in the vip section, cheering for him and sending each other smiles, flying kisses and other cheesy displays of affection to one another to keep your fans entertained, you found yourself visiting him backstage.
the members of his band didn’t know that your relationship was a play. so, seeing you arrive, it was only natural for heizou to prompt everyone else to exit the makeup room, leaving you and xiao alone.
“you did amazing,” you told him with a soft smile, sitting beside him on the couch.
you handed him the cold bottle of water in your hands. stupidly enough, your heart clearly didn’t seem to manage getting used to the little touches or affectionate gestures. it hammered against your chest when his fingers brushed yours. nearly leaped out of your ribcage at the grateful smile he gave you, the sharp edges of his face softening and the paleness of his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.
you sat there in silence, enjoying each other’s company.
unconsciously, your head ended up resting on his shoulder. but none of you dared to make a move, scared that the slightest twitch would have the other pull away.
even after you had realized what you were doing. you didn’t budge. his head rested on top of yours and your heart did a little somersault in its cage, jumping all the way to your throat and resting on the tip of your tongue.
so close to make you spill all the unspoken feelings you couldn’t contain within yourself to him.
“i have to go back on stage,” xiao whispered gently.
you masked your disappointment, lifting your head from his shoulder and watching him as he stood up.
your eyes raked over his back, admiring how the deep v-cut of his shirt revealed a large portion of the skin beneath.
smooth. pale. slender and toned. and you couldn’t look away when you noticed the way his muscles moved as he arranged his hair and in-ears. how could you, really.
when xiao turned back towards you, he handed you back the bottle of water, leaning down to plant a tender kiss on your forehead. his lips slowly wandered all the way down your lips, leaving a trail of shivers and heat behind them. your brain didn’t process what was happening fast enough. at least, not before xiao had stormed out of the makeup room, realization befalling him.
you sat on the couch. speechless. unmoving. paralyzed in your seat as reality dawned on you.
did the play you were entertaining your audience with get to him to the point he kissed you out of habit?
but he never kissed your lips before!
did xiao hold some sort of affection for you that went beyond the limits set by the contract?
you shook your head frantically, not allowing yourself to go any further with that dumb, delusional, silly reasoning of yours.
and while you tried to compose yourself before going back to the concert, xiao was leaning against the other side of the door, a hand pressed to his mouth while his face glowed a bright red.
“what the hell,” xiao mumbled to himself, crouching on the floor.
𝖠𝖫 𝖧𝖠𝖨𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖬 - 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗒 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗒 !! | 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗑 𝗆𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗅
haitham was a rational man. he knew it. you knew it. and so did the entirety of sumeru.
he’s never acted on impulse a day in his life, never made any decision that would ever impact his career in a negative way. he kept a respectful distance between him and his co-stars, easily evaded intrusive questions regarding his romantic life and just did everything possible to avoid scandals.
it was never enough, seemingly.
he’d like to blame it all on kaveh, but really, it was mostly your fault.
after another tiring, early shoot, he caught his friend chatting away with an unfamiliar person. and although he didn’t really care about socializing, he could hardly escape the both of you when you signaled him to approach. so, with a sigh, he made his way towards and you both introduced yourselves.
“i got coffee,” you told the two men, watching them perk up.
it only took your manager tapping on your shoulder for you to startle and spill the scalding hot liquid all over haitham’s shirt. after much insistence, and seeing how apologetic you looked, he handed you over the dirty clothing while you promised to bring it back in a pristine condition.
you never imagined such a small incident would impact your modelling career on a large scale.
truth be told, you were a bit to blame for the lack of precaution you took, despite being so painfully aware of paparazzis following the both of you. sure, you visited him in the middle of the night to hand him back his clothes. and sure, you may have overstayed your welcome, slipping inside his apartment after he’d offered you a glass of water. and maybe you shouldn’t have stayed there for a few more hours, not noticing the time slip by as you both chatted away.
you surprisingly got along pretty well, despite the terrible first impression he had of you.
the next day, you were the talk of the nation. several tabloids and social media posts showing pictures of you going into his residence, scandalous captions discussing how you hadn’t come out for several hours.
so, of course, the only way to appease the morbid curiosity of both your fans was to confirm the dating rumors.
at least, according to your managers. they didn’t give you much of a choice, posting announcements and leaving you both staring at each other blankly.
it was a simple arrangement. fake date for a few months and break up because your schedules go too busy.
haitham knew it couldn’t be too hard. his whole career revolved around acting, he could easily fool everyone that you two were madly in love with each other without it affecting his personal life.
and haitham was a rational man. he knew that.
he had absolutely no valid reason as to why he was glaring from the other side of the room, nose scrunching in disgust as your coworker’s hand slid down your arm and wrapped around your waist. you followed the photographer’s instructions, the both of you executing pose and after pose under his loud praise and encouragement.
as the perfect boyfriend he was (fake, of course), haitham had come to visit you with a well deserved ice cold drink. the thought of having to reign himself in and avoid making the cup explode in his hand never crossed his mind while he was in line at the coffee shop earlier.
he was the perfect picture of control, leaning against a wall while his eyes never left you, a few staff members gawking at him. thankfully for him, none of them seemed to notice the murderous intentions behind his eyes and the way he glared at the man leaning way too close to your face.
the very sight made him want to puke his guts on the floor.
and while nothing slipped through his permanently stoic facade, you had no trouble reading through him. you pecked his cheek as you grabbed the drink he brought you, a small huff of laughter escaping you as he just wouldn’t relax his face.
gently, you traced the slope of his nose, caressing the little wrinkles forming between his furrowed brows. “you look upset,” you remarked calmly.
haitham scoffed. “he looked stupid next to you.”
his words made you snort. so much emotions for someone claiming that this was purely contractual. in the months you’d pretended to be a loving couple, he’d always kept a distance between the both of you in private. yet the walls he’d built around himself were beginning to crack and crumble.
not that you didn’t like it. it was simply amusing to watch him try and fail to rationalize the current situation.
“oh, i’m sure you’d make a better fit,” you giggled, leaning on the wall beside him.
you pretended to not notice his insistent gaze above you, ignored the little sparks of hope burning away in your mind. when your coworker waved at you from the other side of the room, haitham placed himself in front of you before you could smile back.
your eyebrows shot up, a playful smile pulling at your lips. “are you jealous, or something?”
you noted the way he frowned again, confusion morphing his face, his mouth opening and closing a few times. haitham sighed, resigned.
“as if.”
his curt response made you laugh aloud, drawing attention from the busy staff around you. none of them stopped him when he gripped your wrist and dragged you away, your laughter muffled by the door he closed behind him and his lips crashing against yours.
scaramouche stared at his manager like he grew a second head.
“hell no.”
“hell yes,” heizou insisted.
there was no way his star actor would refuse such an offer. yet no arguments seemed to make him budge, looking at the red-head with nothing but disgust plastered on his face. the fact that he already convinced him to play in a romance was a miracle to begin with. but heizou really needed a second one right now, if scaramouche would just be merciful enough.
while he was known on a global scale, no thanks to his incredible talent and his mother’s connections, you had only gotten into the acting scene a few years ago.
and a dating scandal between two leads of a romance movie was bound to not only attract a bigger audience, but also get you under the limelight.
unfortunately for scaramouche, it was working before anyone made it official. stupid tabloids about how lovely and oddly attentive he seemed to be with you behind the scenes were already emerging. clips of him wrapping his jacket around your shoulders during late shoots circulated quickly on the internet. the way he peered at you in concern when you sneezed far too many times in a row having people questioning his relationship to you.
and those dumb edits with even dumber songs. can a man not worry about his coworker anymore?
“you never worry about coworkers,” heizou deadpanned at his complaint.
and so, scaramouche surrendered to his fate.
the announcement dropped like a bomb above everyone’s heads, your socials exploding with a sudden overflow in followers, comments and intrusive questions filling up your private messages. although you trusted your manager’s plans, you never imagined it’d work in such a short time. part of you was afraid that your fake relationship would only attract negative attention and an overwhelming amount of scaramouche’s – sort of obsessive – fans banging at your door with pitchforks and murderous intents.
instead, they thought it was hilarious.
and maybe you agreed a little. you had to suppress a laugh at the almost robotic way in which he approached you, extending his arm for you to take to walk down the red carpet. the premiere was taking place today and it was only customary for the lead actors to be present today.
you could already picture thousands of comments mentioning how stiff scaramouche looked beside you, standing before hundreds of flashing lights. his hand was hovering over your waist, his spine so straight and his smile so forced. it was a bit ridiculous, given the fact that you two kissed at least a dozen times before your director was satisfied with the result.
it seemed like scaramouche’s professionalism didn’t follow him outside the set.
you turned sideways, peering at him. “you look awkward, y’know,” you muttered through a smile.
his head whipped towards you and you could see him fighting back the urge to frown.
“yeah, it’s because this is awkward," he retorted, his lips quirking downwards.
you couldn’t help but huff out a laugh. he was oddly endearing for someone so known for being bossy and rude. your hands went up to his collar, carefully adjusting the slightly crooked fabric. you didn’t think he could get any stiffer than this and yet. as your fingers brushed the skin of his neck, you noted how he’d gone completely still, the apples of his cheeks turning redder by the second.
scaramouche could barely look at you, the slight contact of your skin against his making embarrassment crawl down his spine, so painfully aware of the public setting you were in. and the photographs immortalizing the, possibly, most mortifying moment of his acting career. he couldn’t bring himself to look at you, eyes fixated on the large crowd of paparazzis in front of him.
you hummed, guiding his hand to rest properly on the curve of your waist. his throat bobbed, nerves eating at him. your laughter reaching his ears sounded like a death sentence to him.
“you’re not a very good actor,” you giggled.
that seemed to offend him more than anything else today. more than heizou, who was standing behind the crowd of paparazzis, capturing the moment on his phone like a proud mother, ever did.
scaramouche turned towards you, a pout pulling at his lips. “i have four oscars,” he protested, almost petulant.
the sight made you bring a hand up to your mouth, hardly stifling your giggles. scaramouche frowned, his face turning into an even darker shade of red. you didn’t have the brain cells to even wonder how he even managed that, unable to contain your laughter any longer.
his hand suddenly wrapped around your wrist, pulling you along with him and away from the blinding flashes. and you followed straight behind, grinning and waving at the paparazzis.
you never expected your peaceful days of modelling and travelling around the globe to be so rudely disrupted by a man, of all things. then again, you should have seen that coming.
no amount of softening your speech and keeping your feelings inside was going to save your doomed relationship. and although it’s been months since your messy breakup happened, dozens of headlines still followed you around, claiming and lying about your mental state.
“he tried to ruin my career!” you whined to no one in particular, throwing your phone across the room. “why would i miss him!?”
and maybe you were paranoid but you were almost sure he was the very reason behind why paparazzis and interviewers still bothered to ask you about him. with him being the rich heir of the most influential company in mondstat, it wouldn’t be surprising for you to discover his bribing.
while you didn’t have the power to turn the tables on him, you sure did have enough pettiness in you to hit where it hurts.
and yeah, sure, getting with your ex’s favorite athlete might be a bad look. and maybe dating his favorite boxer made it seem like you were the bitter one. but it wasn’t like you had the time to care, really, far too busy entertaining the media and your fans with more lies than you could count.
you didn’t know why varka even agreed to fake a relationship with you, and you didn’t care to know. all that mattered was your private messages blowing up with your ex’s rage.
strong hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you against a sturdy chest. “looks like it worked,” varka said behind you.
the corners of your lips curled up as you turned to look at him, avoiding the blinding flashes capturing this tender moment.
“told you it would,” you chuckled.
with his match starting soon, and feeling the attention on the both of you, you turned to face him fully, arms wrapping around his neck. you didn’t let your eyes linger too long on his, ignoring the little somersaults your heart did at his insistent gaze and the lack of his usual cheerfulness. your fingers raked through his unruly hair, fixing up golden strands that refused to stay in place.
it was a temporary arrangement. there was no need for you to search for a deeper meaning behind the longing swimming in his bright pools. or the quiet desperation in the way his lips pressed against yours.
and there was certainly no reason for you to feel your heart sink at the sight of his bloodied face and the fire burning in the blue of his eyes. despite trying to remind yourself that he was an exceptional boxer, nothing could stop the tears gathering at your waterline when he was crowned, yet again, victor, bruises and cuts all over his proud expression.
you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him as he drove you home. varka didn’t say a word either, teeth pulling at his split lip. he didn’t think you’d care this much about the injuries he’d sustain in his matches when you first presented him with the setup. and he always tried his best to not overwhelm you with feelings that went beyond the limits set by the contract.
yet varka, in the past few months, has discovered that he never had the strength to refuse you anything. so he didn’t protest when you pulled him into your apartment and sat him down on the edge of your bathtub. nor when you pressed a little too harshly on his cuts and when you didn’t bother being gentle while applying ointment to his bruises. he didn’t have it in him to crack a joke when you threw towels at him and practically slammed the door behind you.
he’d also realized that it took so little for you to melt into his large hands. so when you walked past him, his fingers gently grabbed your wrist, pulling you into a warm embrace.
“i’m sorry,” he muttered, lips pressing against your forehead.
stubborn, you didn’t ease your frown, burying your face into the crook of his neck. you burrowed yourself in his lap, his arms wrapping around your form, rocking the both of you forward.
“shut up.”
a small smile played on his lips, his cheek pressing against the top of your head. despite the harshness of your words, you refused to let go of him, any attempt of his at moving rendered useless when you dug your nails into his forearms. with a laugh, varka guessed that it wouldn’t hurt to spend the night on your couch, with you clinging to him.
when the first rays of the sun pulled you out of your slumber, none of you addressed what had occurred.
it was necessary, you tried reasoning with yourself.
obviously, it wouldn’t make sense that two renowned actors, who were dating nonetheless, would appear so stiff while kissing on camera. it would be ridiculous, wouldn’t it?
maybe not as ridiculous as your current predicament. as if sensing some hesitation from your side, kazuha tilted your chin so you’d look at him.
“we don’t have to,” he told you, his tone far too sweet for you to handle.
he wasn’t completely wrong. the arrangement your managers had put you in was fairly recent. if anything, it would only endear the crew to see the both of you shy away from such displays of affection.
you’d barely registered the reason why yoimiya was so adamant on making you fake a relationship with kazuha. the only thing you’d processed was his name and the fact that he was going to pretend to be your boyfriend for a few months.
the very actor you’d set your eyes on since the beginning of your career – and even before then. the same one you’d admired for years and years. the one you were filming a show with, playing as each other’s love interests while the wide public was hit with the news of your supposed relationship.
you hardly believed the situation you somehow ended up in until today. you wondered if he had to go through the same mental gymnastics you did before showing up at your doorstep. you couldn’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, him revealing the reason behind his presence as wanting to practice your lines together was but an excuse.
after all, you were under no obligation to play pretend behind closed doors. yet his attempt at easing your nerves only alarmed you.
“no, it’s fine!” you blurted out.
when kazuha chuckled at your eagerness, you slapped a hand over your mouth, deflating like a balloon. you felt a bit stupid, so easily baring your feelings to him unprompted. sure, it wasn’t a direct confession. but kazuha wasn’t dumb enough to miss the meaning behind enthusiasm. you hid behind your hands, the AC not helping the state of your burning cheeks.
you felt the mattress dip beside you, gentle fingers wrapping around your wrist and prying your hands off of your face. “don’t hide,” kazuha whispered.
he was so insistent on your eyes meeting his, peering and searching for your gaze until you relented. the softness of his smile felt like a dozen arrows were shot straight through your heart. just as gentle, his fingers trailed up your arm, leaving sparks in their wake, tracing the column of your neck, cupping your jaw.
kazuha inched closer to you until you felt his leg press against yours. “i’ll kiss you now, okay?”
your eyes were screwed shut, your entire being nearly vibrating with nerves and anticipation, fists clenching on your lap. maybe it was a good idea to practice before your shoot tomorrow, given your predicament.
kazuha didn’t close the distance immediately, a fond smile drawn on his features at the sight of you. you looked just so nervous that a little, cruel part of him wanted to toy with your current state. his hand rested on one of your fists, thumb caressing soothing circles on your skin until you allowed his fingers to interlink with yours.
a beat passed. a quiet moment in which your ears couldn’t perceive anything beside the erratic beating of your heart.
hot puffs of air fanned over your lips. before you could stop yourself, you flinched away from the sensation, wide eyed. a moment passed by as you simmered in your own mortification before you muttered a quiet apology, looking down at your lap. you couldn’t help but feel a bit irritated at yourself.
“it’s okay”, kazuha chuckled, his knuckle caressing the burning skin of your face. “relax for me, yeah?”
you didn’t bother complaining about how his presence was anything but relaxing. it felt like every hair on your body was standing straight just from the proximity. any and every contact of his skin against yours lit a fire within the pit of your stomach, flames growing and licking at the little frustration you felt.
when kazuha leaned in again, he didn’t linger too long on the cute look on your face.
his lips were as sweet as he was, you thought, sitting straight and unmoving for a few seconds. when he moved them against yours, you felt like putty in his hands, pliant and so quick to follow the pace he set. your fingers gripped at the fabric of his shirt, nails digging into his shoulders when his tongue traced your bottom lip.
your mouth parted instantly, the small noise of surprise you made quickly swallowed by kazuha. his hand slipped to your nape, angling your head in a way that let him lick into your mouth. you pulled away for a second, your mind spiraling at the suddenness of his actions.
“don’t do that,” kazuha tutted playfully.
you felt your mouth dry up when your eyes met his half-lidded ones, the ruby shade of them barely visible through his dilated pupils. you wouldn’t be too shocked if they suddenly turned into hearts.
and he was so mean, pushing his lips against yours and swallowing your protests and shy mutters, claiming that you could do so much better for him. you didn’t have it in you to deny him or disprove his words, growing dizzier and dizzier with every lungful of air he stole from you.
so light-headed that you’d forgotten the reason behind his hunger.
you collapsed onto your hotel bed. every muscle of your body was screeching in pain, sore and exhausted with all the running and fighting you’d done today. the steaming, hot shower you’d taken did nothing to soothe the ache, nor did any of the stretches you quickly looked up.
with a sigh, you surrendered to your fate, burying yourself in the covers of your bed.
your loving manager, nefer, had deemed that you’ve done enough romance shows and movies for a lifetime. and of course, what better way to change the trajectory of your acting career than by having you play in an apocalyptic show. really, she could have had you participate in a survival reality show and you wouldn’t have noticed the difference.
the only thing that helped you pull through was flins playing a role alongside you. despite the contractual nature of your relationship, there was no helping your traitorous heart and its inability to not fall even deeper for him. the arrangement was set purely to draw attention to the show. yet, with every day that passed and with its end nearing, you couldn’t help but hope that, perhaps, flins wouldn’t want this to be over.
you rolled around in your bed, trying and failing to ignore the restless state of your mind.
but there was no logical explanation behind his endless flirtations and tender attentions. you hoped that there was a meaning behind the hands around your waist when no one was present to witness them. that you didn’t imagine the small flickers of affection in the depths of his hypnotizing eyes. there had to be a reason as to why he was so adamant on kissing your knuckles as a greeting, right?
the sky roared, making you sit straight on the mattress.
you could nearly feel the building shake with the intensity of the thunder, raindrops close to breaking the windows.
just your luck.
for a split moment, you stared into the darkness of your room, refusing to look at the bright flashes of light slipping through the glass. you contemplated staying up and falling asleep until the storm passed. maybe watch a show to take your mind off of it until your exhaustion would get the best of you.
another deep, rolling rumble made you scramble towards your bedside table, turning on the dim light.
you felt a bit stupid, getting so spooked by something so normal. but you were so wide awake at the moment, arms crushing your poor stuffed bunny. and you were so hyperaware of every little noise, all the alarms in your brain going haywire when you heard a rattle from your door.
you stared at the wooden surface for a long moment, hoping that whoever was behind it would just leave you alone. better yet, that you simply imagined the sound.
all those thoughts flew out of your mind when a familiar voice called out your name. “it’s just me,” flins added, raising his hand to knock again.
before he could do so, you opened the door, looking at him through a small crack. your lips jutted out into a pout as flins smiled down at you, taking in the messy state of your hair and the plushie glued to your chest.
“thought you’d be scared,” he told you.
something in your chest melted into a pathetic puddle at his words. of course he would think so. despite all his teasing and playfulness, flins was so terribly attentive it made you want to pull out your hair. instead, you opened the door wider, letting him slip inside. you noticed how he’d braided his hair and the near translucent paleness of his skin. his eye bags looked even more pronounced, you thought, guilt twisting your guts.
he probably sacrificed his well-deserved rest just to check on you.
“i couldn’t sleep either.”
you blinked at him, any remorse you’d felt evaporating instantly. “you’re not good at lying,” you deadpanned, locking the door behind you.
flins only laughed at your words. he took a seat on the edge of your bed, eyes crinkling, small sparks of joy animating his gaze. you looked away, feeling your heart take on a faster pace. yet when his hand urged you closer, you followed through almost immediately, wishing that he wouldn’t feel the erratic pace of your heart as his thumb caressed the skin above your pulse.
“do you want me to stay?” flins asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
his lips traced the inside of your wrist, awaiting an answer you couldn’t provide. when you only gave him a nod, he nipped at the sensitive skin, eliciting a hiss from you. “hm?” he pressed.
your eyebrows furrowed, frustration painting your features.
“i do,” you muttered, looking down at the way you shifted on your feet.
a small huff of laughter tumbled out of flins’s lips. you never looked sweeter to him, he thought, pulling on your wrist and into his embrace. you burrowed yourself into his chest, the both of you buried into the covers. you were deaf to the distant rumbles, ear pressed against his wildly beating heart, eyes widening in disbelief.
you didn’t dare say anything that would disturb the peacefulness of this moment. when he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, you tried your best to succumb to the fatigue you felt earlier.
and so, the both of you laid there sleeplessly, praying you’d find a way to extend the contract. at least, until either of you found the courage to put a word on your feelings. or three.
a/n: first time writing something like this (both in terms of nsfw and headcanons), hope u guys like it!
warnings: nsfw!! explicit!!, reader on top, not proofread, i think i'm really bad at staying consistent with past/present tense.., not proofread i just kinda typed out the words as the ideas came to me..
wc: 520 something
- i feel like he would probably be the one on top and in charge most of the time.
- but! if you want to be on top, all you have to do is ask! besides, who is he to say no to your gorgeous face?
- after you climb on top of him, he lets you take your time to take him in. you could quite literally take forever and he'd still look up at you lovingly, guiding you through it.
- and! just because you're on top, doesn't always mean you're in charge!
- he knows that all he has to do is give you that cocky grin, the one that always has your knees weak, and suddenly your arms are jello and your body won't cooperate. he'd just chuckle as you fall from your hands to your elbows, burying your face in the crook of his neck, crying his name. then he'd grab your hips, doing all the work and guiding you up and down while he mercilessly thrusts in and out of you.
- but on the occasion that he lets you be in charge, you bet he is absolutely weak for you.
- his hands are probably roaming all over your body: playing with your chest, tracing your waist and hips, rubbing small circles into your soft skin, or resting his hands on the tops of your thighs while his hands massage the inner part of your thighs, while he watches you take him over and over.
- and if you ask him really nicely, he might just let you pin his hands down above his head!
- and while you're doing all of the work, he doesn't even know where to look! your pretty face? your nice chest? the way your greedy cunt sinks down on him, taking him fully with each thrust?
- the idea of you using him solely for your own pleasure is enough to bring him right to the edge. so the entire time that he's watching you bounce up and down on him, taking exactly what you need, he's barely managing to hold himself back from finishing right there inside of you.
- he definitely compliments you the entire time too. telling you that you're gorgeous, that you're doing so good, and taking him so well.
- he can only hold out for so long though, watching his gorgeous partner use him for their own pleasure, "ah- fuck baby, you keep doing that and i'm gonna-"
- and of course you let him cum inside while you continue riding him, enjoying the way he groans underneath you and fills you up.
- there's so much, really, you can feel some of it starting to drip down your thighs as you continue using him for your own pleasure.
- and by now you're getting so close, especially with the feeling of his cum being fucked deeper into you whenever you move.
- but by now it's a little bit too much for him! so he lets you continue your movement, but he brings a hand down and starts to massage circles into your clit with his thumb, effectively coaxing your orgasm out of you.
- he definitely groans out loudly again once he feels you finally reach your high.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⋆ ۫ ໒. two fools or pulling a she's busy bro on your s/o with an odd reaction !
warnings: a bit of swearing + suggestive content. might be ooc.
featuring:: kaeya, kaveh, kinich, lohen, lyney, mitya, scaramouche/wanderer, xiao.
pi note: where's da smaus series update😂 soon mayb, sorry im really lazy asf to write for lohen and for lyneys there no inspo gang, i need to see my king again in order to pull somethin from me BUT HEY mitya is so...soo ... gorgeous like wow, and he is tall and pretty and reminds me of my wife nagito komadreja
(MDNI - jock!bf x f!cubby!reader; popular!jock!bf x insecure!reader; a little smut)
Jock bf who is loved by everyone but only has eyes for you. He’s confident, cold, hard on the outside but when he’s with you he’s nothing but soft and attentive. He often becomes a bit of gooey mess when you give him attention, but don’t think that means he can’t dominate tf out of you.
He’s huge—like towering heads over you kinda huge—so muscular and broad he’s broken multiple pieces of furniture. He has no problem manhandling you, throwing you around and using you like his own little doll. You never thought you’d find a guy who could make you feel so small and delicate.
He loves your body so much, if you’re around his eyes won’t leave you, not unless he can touch you in some way—a hand placed on your thigh, kneading the flesh absentmindedly, his arms wrapped around your shoulders or your waist as you stand in front of him, your back to his chest, immediately pulling you onto his lap when you need to sit down.
You’ve caught him stealing some of your clothing before—shirts, hoodies, panties—and he admitted that he couldn’t sleep without being able to smell your scent. He told you that sometimes he’ll fall asleep with a pair of your dirty panties pressed to his face, his nose breathing in your intoxicating scent like he needs it to live. After he told you that he became more open about his need to smell you, it became very normal for him to randomly stuff his face in your neck to take deep sometimes open mouthed inhales.
He’s fiercely protective of you as well. When he hears someone say a word about you, talking about you with the even the slightest bit of negativity—making a comment about your body or your mind like they have the right—he goes absolutely ballistic. And he wasn’t just protecting you from others, he also protected you from yourself. Anytime you’d talk down about yourself, doubting your beauty or your intelligence—literally anything—he would make it his mission to help you see the truth. Fucking you with brutality, his painfully hard thrusts would come faster and harder as the deep rumbling of his voice would growl how perfect you were before he ordered you to repeat positive affirmations, not stopping his ruthless love making until you started to believe the words. “You're gorgeous baby, say it. Tell me how smart my girl is, how kind and perfect she is. Louder princess, say it like you mean it. That’s it sweet girl, you're doing so good baby. I know you might not believe it yet but soon you’ll believe it just as much as I know it to be true baby girl.”
˗ˏˋ Giyuu fucks you so hard, he breaks the bed ˎˊ˗
Giyuu's low growls left his lips as his hips pistoned into yours.
The bed creaked with every heavy thrust that jolted your body. You were practically pressed against the mattress, sweat clinging to your body.
Hearing your moans only made him pound you harder.
“That’s it. Don’t hold back,” Giyuu groaned and threw his head back as he tried pushed your head into the pillow.
His cock rubbed your walls in all the good places, making you squirm and push your hips back against him.
Giyuu’s abdomen clenched as he came a third time, not stopping to pull out.
“Oh, baby. I missed you so much. My beloved wife.” He groaned and pressed his hands into your back, angling his hips upward.
This elicited a loud whine from you, body recoiling from every push and pull of his thick cock.
“Mgh–s’good!”
Giyuu brought his hands up to flip you over on you back and hike your legs over his shoulders, straightening his back and slid back into you with a low moan.
“…So perfect for me.” He huffed out as the sound of skin slapping increased, muting the bed frame creaking as the two of you made love.
Giyuu’s hands gripped your knees as his brows furrowed, looking down to see the creamy white ring that surrounded his cock where it slipped into you.
“Oh, yeah…mph! God, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” His voice a pitch higher as he quickly let go of your legs and hovered over you, pulling you into a messy kiss.
The frame repeatedly hit the wall, and the support under the mattress began to splinter.
Giyuu ground his hips into yours as his hands moved to grab your waist, moaning at how deep he was inside of you.
His balls slapped against your ass as he moved once again, chasing his fourth release of the night.
Your juices made a mess against his pelvis and the sheets, whining loudly as his cock rubbed your g spot repeatedly.
“Fuck, Yuu! I’m so close. Wanna cum, please!” You cried out as your legs began to tremble with the anticipation of your release.
Giyuu grunted as he focused his thrusts in a certain angle that made your mind go blank.
The bed gave in slightly, but Giyuu didn’t stop as he pounded his remaining energy into your greedy pussy.
“Cum with me, baby. Give it to me, and I’ll fill you up.”
Your walls clamped down on him as you squealed.
Giyuu roared as he rode out his own release, thrusting harshly into yours three more times until a sharp ‘CRACK’ echoed through the room.
His eyes widened and cheeks flushed immediately as he realized what had happened.
“Oh…I’m sorry. I’ll get a new bed.”
You looked up at him, mind still fuzzy from your orgasm, managing a small giggle.
“Yuu, there’s no way you broke the bed. Must’ve been a rough day, hm?”
“…Maybe.” His eyes darted away from yours as he settled above you, hiding his face in your collarbone.
You sighed and wrapped your legs around him, carding your fingers through his long tresses.
“…Maybe we should just leave the mattress on the floor if you’re going to go this hard.”
A huff was your response before silence settled over the two of you, the scent of sex and the lingering embarrassment of the fact that he had just broke the bed filling the room.
Take my son out of there. He didn't do anything wrong
He s a 14 year old child who only knew death and blood and maggots eating away at his brother's corpse
A 14 year old child who only knew deep in his soul how to hold a sword and how to cut necks until they dissolve into ash
A child who barely remembered his own name and why his face felt so uncanny in the mirror
A child who knew there was someone else next to him at some point , but it was too far away and too painful to remember. A child who never cried and never laughed until he remembered the murder of his twin brother that rotted away while holding his hand.
A child who faced the scariest of monsters without breaking down. Without showing fear. A Hashira of the Demon slayer Corps until the very end.
spoilers ahead
A child who was forsaken by his own ancestor and who saw the color of the sky for the last time while running towards his Master's mansion knowing it s being attacked.
A child who dragged himself to his death only to be useful till the end. Only to prove he was worth something. Knowing he was going to die , using his already broken body to help however he could anymore.
A child set to die as a soldier since the beginning.
his voice reverberated against your whimpers, possessing a soft lilt to his husky tone. his lips ran its course on your pussy. not even eating you out, just a damn tease.
his lower lip dragged itself, tracing your flushed folds. your wetness smeared on his lips. he pressed the gentlest, firmest kiss on to your throbbing cunt.
your hips lifted, just a little to meet with his mouth again but all he did was let out a chuckle at your desperation. “now, now, let’s be patient, alright?”
“spread your legs a bit more. can you do that for me, baby?” he blew a cold gush of soft air directly on to your clit, making you gasp, complying instinctively with his request.
he straightened himself up, away from your pussy, and tugged his trousers down— unveiling his thick, robust and undeniably hard of a cock, smeared with pre-cum on the pinkish tip.
prominent veins decorated his cock. the entirety of it was bruised a regal shade of purple and blue, purely from restraint, agony of not penetrating the pretty hole.
one hand of his wrapped itself around the base, slowly jerking it up and down sensually, coating his girth with the pre-cum from his. his other hand had adjusted his hair, pushing the wet strands of hair back. “look at me, baby. see what you do to me, sweetheart?”
“you’ve got your man so damn fucked, huh. doesn’t happen that often” you could truly see it, his face flushed, crimson injecting itself in to him, as blood was coursing to his head with profuse intensity.
his canine bit into his lower lip as he slightly lowered himself to you, a spread of his torrid tempered hand lay on your red marked thighs while his knees pressed on to the mattress’ softness.
the tip of his cock maliciously kissed your ready hole, only a little, not entering like you had desired for. his hold on his cock tightened as he vehemently guided it up and down your raw pussy.
your juices coated his length as his tip steered through your cunt, drenching on the mess, thrusting between your folds.
one hand of his had pinned your thigh around his waist while the other was too lascivious, shamelessly spread your pussy lips apart with his thumb and index fingers. “hm, yeah, look at her. so wet for my cock. yeah, makes so much sense, doesn’t it baby?” he raises one of his eyebrows while a smirk graces his wintry face. “so damn wet for me. nothing new though”
he was so egotistical, especially now seeing the condition you were in. cheeks burning with an impaling desire, mouth parted to whine and moan, cunt wet enough to completely deep throat him.
his cock, still idly dousing itself with your wetness in a cadenced pattern, a rhythm curated by him only. one that had a burning contact of skin on skin but deprived you of pleasure.
and as if he couldn’t get any more cocky— he slowly dragged his meat from your succulent hole to your lonely clitorus bud as he repeatedly slapped it, then, slowly nudged on it. the slit of his tip incessantly nudging around your clit had you instantaneously moaning his name in stutters. “i know, the dick’s too good huh?”
he was stimulating your pussy so well. consistently dragging the head of his cock between your labia, arrogantly chuckling every time you moaned in dire need. “fuck yeah, want me so bad don’t you? of course you do. why wouldn’t you?”
he had mockingly put it inside but slipped out of quick, a fake pout formed on his face. “shit– oops sorry, can’t put it in, cutie. it’s too big for you. what should we do? hm?” he feigned a sad look while teasing your entrance. how annoying.
“g-god, you’re so full of yourself” you, somehow, muttered through your gritted teeth which had earned a chuckle from him.
kianamaiart
stormborns
snowghoul
yousharknotpass
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
origamiaround
blakekathryn
