#you could say its... unexplainable

[madrabit]

I don't know what happened, I blacked out, and the only thing I remember is I needed to draw Bojan in Nemo's outfits... so... yeah

[toxi-works-at-culvers]

If youre doing the Blorbo Bingo, how's about William and/or Springbonnie :0c

yes of course :3c !!! both of them for funsies

william is. probably what you expected. hes my everythig. my pathetic little sopping wet meow meow. my silly rabbit. i have the worst case of brain rot for this man

i have to be honest i dont have many thoughts on springbonnie but i do love them <3

[charlotteking27]

Please stand up if Bruce Wayne was forced to marry the reader and then one day discovered that she was a superhero like him

The Hero's Bride

Bruce Wayne x reader

Summary: You are the daughter of a wealthy businessman forced into a marriage with the prince of Gotham, Bruce Wayne. But secrets within your marriage start unfolding.

Warnings: Sorry, it is not as long as my usual fanfics

It was a field day for the tabloids as Bruce Wayne, their prominent bachelor prince, was getting married to the daughter of a wealthy businessman. 

The newspaper reported on the events of the power couple, with your picture and Bruce Wayne's featured prominently in the middle of it all. The headline 'our playboy billionaire finally settling down'

The crystal chandeliers of Wayne Manor cast dancing shadows across the marble floors as Bruce Wayne adjusted his tie for the thousandth time. Another charity gala, another performance of the billionaire playboy. Except tonight was different. Tonight, he was meeting his future wife.

"The arrangements have been made, Master Wayne," Alfred said, his voice carrying its usual mix of concern and dry wit. "Though I must say, agreeing to an arranged marriage seems rather... medieval, even for Gotham's standards."

Bruce's jaw tightened. "The Wayne Foundation's reputation is everything, Alfred. After that disaster with the Gotham Gazette's exposé on my... nocturnal activities, the board thinks a stable relationship might help." He didn't mention how those 'nocturnal activities' involved more timely distractions to uphold his secret.

________________________________________________________

You stood in an elegant emerald evening gown, waiting anxiously to leave and get home, but tonight was different. Tonight, you are meeting your future husband.

The arrangement had come as a surprise. Your father, CEO of one of Gotham's largest tech companies, had presented it as a "mutually beneficial partnership." Bruce Wayne needed to stabilize his public image, and your family needed stronger ties to old-money Gotham. You'd agreed, if only because it provided the perfect cover for your nighttime activities.

Wayne Manor looms before you, gothic architecture stretching toward the clouded sky. Your driver opens the car door, and you step out, automatically scanning the perimeter – old habits die hard. The massive wooden doors swing open to reveal Alfred Pennyworth, Wayne's butler, and behind him, Bruce Wayne himself.

He's more imposing in person than in photos. Tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp eyes that seem to catch every detail. Including, you notice, the way you've already mapped every exit in the room. Interesting.

"Miss," he says, extending his hand. "Welcome to Wayne Manor."

"Mr. Wayne." Your grip is firm and professional. You notice a faint bruise near his collar, poorly concealed by makeup. Curious. Several things ran through your mind, the obvious one: how much of a playboy Mr. Wayne really was.

The weeks before the wedding pass in a whirlwind of public appearances and private arrangements. Attending numerous galas and other events to show the public the perfect couple.

You find ways to maintain your secret life – slipping out at night, patrolling the streets of Gotham in your specialized suit, complete with built-in stealth tech of your own design. If Bruce notices your occasional limps or mysterious absences, he doesn't mention them. Then again, he has his own habit of disappearing at odd hours.

The wedding is a spectacle worthy of Gotham's elite. You play your part perfectly – the accomplished businesswoman, the perfect bride. No one notices how you scan the crowd for threats, or how your bouquet hides reinforced knuckles that could crack concrete.

Life at Wayne Manor settles into an odd rhythm. You and Bruce orbit each other like binary stars, together but separate. You respect each other's privacy, never questioning the mysterious phone calls or unexplained injuries. During the day, you attend board meetings and charity galas. At night, you slip away to protect the city in your own way.

"Late night?" Bruce asked one morning, not looking up from his newspaper as you slipped into the breakfast room at 6 AM, still in yesterday's clothes.

"Charity gala planning committee," you lied smoothly, hiding your limp. The drug cartel you'd busted hadn't gone down without a fight. "You?"

"Board meeting in Tokyo." His tie was perfectly straight, but you spotted foundation covering a fresh cut along his jaw.

They were good lies, practiced lies. The kind that came with years of maintaining double lives.

It's during your fourth month of marriage that everything changes. You're tracking a human trafficking ring through the warehouse district, your suit's electric blue accents dimmed for stealth. The intel suggests Batman might be investigating the same case, but you've always managed to avoid him before.

Not tonight.

You kept your operations separate from Batman's territory, focusing on Gotham's tech-driven criminal underground. You had history there – scores to settle with your father's former partners who'd turned your family's Technologies' innovations into weapons.

But Gotham had a way of bringing its heroes together, whether they wanted it or not.

You'd avoided Batman for months, but now, crouched in the shadows watching him work, something felt familiar about his movements. The way he disabled the security system matched a technique you'd glimpsed Bruce using on their home's alarm panel.

The second you closed your eyes and reopened them, he was gone in the dark.

You sense his presence before you see him – a darker shadow among shadows. You turn to flee, but he's faster than expected. A grappling hook wraps around your ankle. You counter with a move learned in the mountains of Nepal, breaking free and landing in a defensive stance.

That's when you see his face in the moonlight, cowl knocked loose in the scuffle. The realization hit you like a thunderbolt

"Bruce?"

He stares at you, equally shocked. "You're the mystery vigilante?"

For a moment, neither of you moves. Then you start laughing, the sound echoing off the warehouse walls. "So this is why you're never around for midnight snacks."

"Me? You're the one who keeps claiming yoga classes run late." His voice carries a hint of admiration. "The tech industry's break-in last month – that was you?"

"Had to destroy some evidence of illegal weapons manufacturing. My father's old partners aren't as clean as they pretend to be." You step closer, studying his suit. "I always wondered how Batman got his tech. Wayne Enterprises explains a lot."

"How long have you known?" he asked, removing his cowl.

"About thirty minutes." She deactivated her mask, letting it dissolve into her suit's collar. "You?"

"I suspected something when you took down that smuggling ring last month. The tech they were using came from one of your family's Technologies' old subsidiaries."

"Cleaning up family messes." She shrugged. "Sound familiar?"

His laugh was unexpected – rich and genuine in a way she'd never heard from Bruce Wayne, socialite. "Alfred is going to love this."

"Alfred already knows," she said. At his surprised look, she added, "He's been leaving medical supplies in my bathroom for weeks. That man sees everything."

"The two-year gap in your resume," he says. "Training?"

"League of Shadows. Left when I realized what they really were." You notice his slight flinch. "But you already knew about them, didn't you?"

He nods slowly. "We have... history."

"Well," you say, smiling at your lips, "I suppose this makes our arranged marriage more interesting."

"It certainly explains a few things." He pauses, then adds, "Your father doesn't know?"

"About as much as your board knows about your nighttime activities." You activate your mask in place.

"So." Bruce stepped closer, studying you with new interest. "What happens now?"

You smiled, already seeing possibilities unfold. "Now we stop pretending our marriage is just for show. Between your resources and my tech, we could do more good together than apart."

"The press will notice if Batman and the new vigilante start working together simultaneously, you and I become inseparable."

"Let them talk." You activated your suit's systems, preparing to leave. "Besides, every good marriage needs a hobby. Speaking of which, I've got some traffickers to catch. Care to join me?"

The smile he gives you is genuine – perhaps the first real one you've seen from him. "Lead the way."

As you swing across Gotham's skyline together, you realize that this arranged marriage might be the best thing that ever happened to you. Not because it saved Bruce Wayne's reputation or strengthened your family's social standing, but because it gave you something you never knew you needed: a partner who understands both sides of your double life.

Later that night, as you both tend to your wounds in the newly revealed Batcave, Bruce looks at you with newfound respect. "You know," he says, "most people marry for love or money. We married for public relations and ended up with a crime-fighting partnership."

You laugh, wincing as Alfred patches up your shoulder. "Well, they do say marriage is full of surprises."

The next morning, headlines screamed about Batman and the new vigilante team-up against a human trafficking operation. But it was the society pages that really got people talking, with photos of Bruce and you sharing a surprisingly passionate kiss at a charity gala.

The papers call you Gotham's power couple, the perfect merger of old money and new innovation. If they only knew the half of it. By day, you run your companies and attend charity galas. By night, you protect the city together, two vigilantes moving in perfect sync.

And if the criminals of Gotham complain that Batman's gotten twice as effective lately with improved tech? Well, that's just one of the many perks of married life.

[kabr0ztrousers]

What about a fem waitress/teacher/nurse/other service centered job that is being haunted by a horny exhibitionist ghost that will only touch them in public.

Bonus points if reader gets lured (either fed up with the torment or too cockdrunk to care) into releasing all of the ghost's friends for a ghost orgy

Kabr0z Writes Episode 39: Haunting

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: ghosts; public use; noncon; free use; creampie; group sex; possession; pregnancy mention

A/N: Back to requests today, and back to ghosts too, which I'm sure is welcome news to some of you

As always, if you have any requests for any situations, kinks, or revisits then please drop me a DM asking for what you want and I'll most likely write it sooner or later

###############################

The café was always a little haunted, the odd thing moving here or there, the occasional flickering of the lights, unexplained cold spots, nothing major. That was, of course, until Othello turned up.

You weren't sure what was happening at first, it was a normal shift waiting tables, taking orders, business as usual. You bent over to clean a table when a hand cupped your ass. When you turned to confront whoever touched you, nobody was there. You shrugged and carried on working, maybe you imagined it? A couple of hours later you were working the cash register and felt something squeezing your tits, pinching the nipples through your bra. That's when you realised this was probably a ghost.

You shook yourself. Whoever it is, they're probably not going to be around long, and it's hardly the first time someone's been a bit handsy with you. You do work hospitality after all.

You ran off a little of the receipt paper and jotted down your question: "Who are you?"

Setting the pen and paper aside, you got back to it. You even got a few minutes of reprieve as well before spectral hands started stroking your waist, one unclasping your bra as you walked back behind the counter. In a neat copperplate hand, the spirit had answered your question. Its name was Othello.

There wasn't time to dwell on it, the lunchtime rush was about to start.

Your first couple of tables were fine. It's amazing how quickly you adapt to the roving hands of the unqiet dead when you have to. The next one was a little trickier.

The hands started off squeezing your ass, but one slid around your front and pressed up against your pussy. You felt your skin redden as you started to trip over your words. The men on the table looked quizzically at you, but didn't say anything. The other hand started feeling your cunt too, spectral fingers parting the lips of your pussy as more lazily toyed with your clit. You dropped your pen, crouching to pick it up. Your reward was for two fingers to push inside, immediately aiming for your g-spot as the the ghost continued to abuse your clit.

You bit your tongue to stifle a yelp, only half-succeeding. The men were definitely staring at you now as you half-waddled away from their table, conscious of the arousal dripping from you, soaking your underwear and running down your leg.

You scribbled another message "knock it off, asshole" putting down the paper and walking away.

The fingers came back almost immediately. You felt a hand trace two letters on your back. "No"

The rest of the rush was a stagger, taking every measure of your composure not to give in to the insistent hands rubbing your cunt, pushing fingers into you, toying constantly with your clit. You lasted most of the way through, only one table left before you could lock the door, take a break and recover yourself. A couple of men who work in a nearby office block, one blonde, one dark haired.

You took their order, face burning up and voice quivering. You could hear a wet stirring sound coming from your cunt and smell yourself, the way they were looking at you made you think they could too. Pushing the thought to the back of your mind, you turned to ring up their order. Othello tripped you, sending you sprawling. Your concentration lapsed a moment, letting a moan escape your lips and your back arch, showing your soaked panties to the two men.

You heard them get up before you scurried away into a back room, locking the door behind you. A semi-transparent figure hung there, glowing softly in the dark room.

"What's the big idea?" You spat at the ghost "Who knows what they would've done?"

"I wanted to get you alone" His voice sounded like he was at the bottom of a deep, dry well "Look in the box"

You looked where he was pointing, the lost and found box. On the top, nested on a hoodie someone had left a month ago, was a heart-shaped silver locket. You picked it up, the smooth metal much colder on your skin than it should be

"Open it" Othello's excited voice called to you from just over your shoulder

You unfastened the clasp, the locket fell open. A faintly-glowing cloud poured from it, flowing into Othello and forming two more spectres beside him. All three of them were much more visible now: three men, each around six feet tall. One reached out and opened the door behind you as another pushed you out. The light of the café made them hard to see, but their hands were solid as they manhandled you to a table. The office workers stared at you as the ghosts bent you over the table, pulling your soaked underwear to one side and hiking up your skirt.

The first ghost lined himself up with your cunt and forced his cock inside. Their laughter filled the room as he mercilessly pounded you, each thrust forcing a yelp out of you.

You could hear the other men walking over, moving slowly as the ghost fucked you, clearly not sure what they were seeing. They stood behind you, watching as the first ghost reached his orgasm, pumping his load into you before stepping aside for the next.

The second ghost wasn't any gentler, forcing himself into you using the first one's cum as lube, pressing his fingers into your clit and rubbing you to an orgasm around him as he buried himself in you. The office workers walked around the table to where your head lay, the edge rubbing on your cheek bone.

They got their cocks out and forced your mouth open, taking turns fucking your face and groping the sides of your tits as the ghosts held you down. The second ghost finished in you and the third took his place as the two men kept your mouth busy. This ghost took his time, running his hands over your waist and your hips, feeling every inch of your skin as he rutted into you. The office workers were getting close, you could taste the precum flowing out of them as they alternated thrusting down your throat. The dark haired one held you down. You gagged as he filled your mouth with cum, thrusting down into you for good measure, despite already being balls-deep. You gasped for breath when he pulled out, only for the blonde one to do the same, roughly fucking your throat until he pulled out and painted your face with it, slathering you with a mix of spit and semen. They put themselves away and left before the ghost and finished, making sure to be gone before you could get up.

You felt the ghost start throbbing inside you, pulsing his cum into your punished womb, mingling with his friends.

They left you on the table when they'd finished. Your legs shaking, tears and cum in your eyes. Othello pulled you up from the table, holding you from behind as another placed the locket around your neck.

You felt as though you were watching a film. You could still see everything, hear, touch, taste, but your movements weren't yours any more. You watched as you removed the stained and sodden knickers from between your legs. Your body moved unbidden, leaving the café and locking the door behind you. Your lungs filled with the outside air as you watched yourself walk down the street

"Don't worry" Othello's voice sounded in your head "We'll give your body back, just maybe a little more pregnant"

#######################################

A/N: Not sure how well this one turned out, but there's certainly room to expand this if needed.

Once again, any requests will probably be written, so if you want something: drop me an ask or a DM and I'll do what I can!

[tryagainenthusiast]

mdni!

thinking about…

how unbelievably pussy drunk jeong jaehyun gets. his element is truly with his fingers gripping around your inner thighs, spreading them open for him. and keeping them open too—even when you start squirming, back arching away from the bed sheets just to try and move in some way. your brows furrowed together in an overwhelming sensation of dizzying pleasure while jaehyun eats you out, breath exhaling out of his nose and mouth completely muffled against you, eyes glancing up to memorise and sear every micro-expression you make into his head forever.

it all started the first time you let him go down on you. he was already turned on seeing you completely bare in front of him, his hands groping your boobs like its the first time he’s ever seen them, just glancing between your expression and the way his fingers curl around the flesh. your hair sprawled out around you, him stood between your legs looking like he might eat all of you up whole. but when he finally lowered himself down to your wriggling hips, pressing gentle kisses onto your skin all the way from your jaw, down the soft plane of your stomach and the space where the waistband of your panties once was, his mouth fell open a little at how lewd you were acting already, stringing out breathy little moans of his name. it almost felt like his stomach was curling in on itself. the kind of feeling you get only when you’re still a virgin, when the amateur hormone overload betrays you.

but he still pushed through, for you. ignored the tent in his sweatpants. ignored the way his own breath quickened and his face started to flush with a warmth. he still buried himself between your legs, mouth parted, eyes a little wide. he didn’t have to do much for your hips to buck up instinctively against his face, your head lifting suddenly from the bed to look down at what exactly he’s doing to you, hands already reaching for his hair. only to be met with his eyes already glancing up at you, pupils blown, letting out a moan against your slick middle he didn’t even know he could make.

his boxers grew unbearably tight, painfully stretching over his length until he considered just pulling his trousers down in that very moment. but he wouldn’t. he couldn’t when his hands were already preoccupied, wrapped tightly around the back of your thighs, lifting your hips up towards his greedy mouth at the perfect angle. his wet lips consuming everything you can give him until it dribbled down his chin and made the tip of his nose glisten. he mirrored your moans without even realising, feeling his face get even hotter, his crotch almost numb as he desperately moaned for your release in a way he never thought he could.

even as he gazed up at you, through his dark lashes and past the curves of your breasts, at the small glimpses of your exposed throat as you tilt your head back in pleasure sent jolts of something unexplainable to his cock. and as he listened to the final gasp of his name, felt your fingers grip tighter onto his hair and the heels of your feet digging into his back a little harder he didn’t even realise it was happening.

he spluttered a mewl against you, his hands gripping onto your thighs even tighter, his hips jerking forward automatically into nothing as his cum shot into his boxers, leaking through onto his sweats and leaving a dark grey stain. his brows furrowed, lips unsealing from around you for a moment, just so he can inhale a sharp breath. and then let his face fall back down between your legs, his cheek resting softly against your inner thigh, both of you panting like the room doesn’t have enough oxygen.

“i came.” he breathed out against your skin through the aftershocks, before you could even say anything. he wasn’t embarrassed, he was just putting it out there. letting you know that you made him come without touching him. that the sheer overdrive of his five senses with you turned him on enough to make him come in his pants. and you tilted your head to look down at him, a small, lazy smile on your face. and when you sat up, he let you run a soft fingertip down the stain. let you commit it to memory the way jaehyun has you.

and now every time he eats you out, slips his fingers around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down with one strong tug, you ask him, “are you going to come this time?” and he lets out a quiet chuckle, lowering himself to press a tiny kiss to your cheek and whisper back to you, “no promises. do you want me to?”

[carnivorousarcher]

red evbo design ….. auhhhhhhhhh my boy. i hate him a normal amount

headcanons and longer explainations for the stuff i wrote:

“is colorblind (doesn’t know)” i think it would be SO funny if he thought he was green too. like if he has protanopia. he either spawned in red like this and started making the clones wrong (green) or saw that the clones have clothing matching their eye color and just got that “shade of green��� that his own eyes are. mf your eyes are Red.

“the clones have their number on the tag inside the hoodie” self explanatory. parkciv evbo could be #360 LMAO

“injured his hand and tried to fix it (now there’s no skin texture)” i imagine he burnt or cut his hand or some physical scar that you can see but he didn’t want to look different so he tried fixing it in his code or something. and lost the texture. (i mean texture as in like an unfolded minecraft skin. you get it ik you get what im saying.) Also he’s still an evbo so maybe he can be a little bit dumb too

i used the png checkerboard cause it looks better for character design but the minecraft “missing texture” texture is lowkey funnier and more fitting…… but its just so bright (and less ppl would get it probably)

(needed to add some vague unexplained thing that makes him a little non-human. for tumblr sexyman appeal…… and lets be honest for me i cannot have normal human blorbos)

[novaursa]

https://www.tumblr.com/novaursa/763433066909810688/hello-dear-how-are-you-i-hope-im-not-bothering?source=share

Thank you for your answer. I would like to send a request for Maegor. I hope he has no problem. Dark Maegor Targaryen and second wife reader. (Reader can be Tyrell or Dayne. Or nobel lady from another house.) When Maegor starts looking for a woman to have an heir (37 Ac/earlier than the year he started in the original story) he meets the reader. When he gets , he is determined to make the reader his wife. He gets rid of Ceryse (maybe by poison or by accident) and marries the reader. The reader immediately becomes pregnant and gives birth to three babies. This causes Maegor's obsession to increase. Because the reader gave him three babies like the three-headed dragon in the symbol of his house. The reader is fertile enough to get pregnant every year.

Crimson Fate

- Summary: Maegor takes you as his bride after Ceryse fails to give him an heir.

- Pairing: dayne!reader/dark!Maegor I Targaryen

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (just to be safe)

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

Maegor’s eyes settle on you the moment he arrives at Starfall, and from that moment, there is no mistaking his intentions. You hear the whispers from the courtiers, the rumors of Maegor’s insatiable ambition to secure an heir, to further his line and strength. His first wife, Ceryse, has yet to bear him a child, and many speculate he has come south seeking a new wife—one capable of giving him what the Hightower woman could not.

The first time Maegor speaks to you, his presence is overwhelming. His tall, imposing figure clad in black and crimson, his eyes burning with something far more dangerous than mere desire. It is as if he has already decided your fate without consulting you, as though the idea of refusal is inconceivable.

“You are Dayne,” he says, his voice low and commanding, the words wrapping around you like chains. “From the blood of the stars.”

Your throat tightens, a shiver of unease sliding down your spine. You manage a nod, keeping your gaze lowered, though you feel the weight of his stare, lingering on you like a predator studying its prey.

“Tell me,” Maegor continues, stepping closer, “how many sons does your house expect from you?”

There is no answer you can give that will change your fate. In that moment, Maegor has already chosen you to bear his heirs, to fulfill the destiny of House Targaryen. You are no longer a daughter of the stars, but a piece in his game.

Weeks later, news comes from Oldtown—Ceryse has died. There are whispers, dark ones, that she and Maegor had quarreled, that the fight escalated, and her death, though unexplained, was no accident. The dread among the court is palpable, as many know Maegor is quick to wrath, but none dare speak it aloud in his presence. The timing is too convenient to be coincidental. Ceryse's death clears the way for what Maegor desires.

You know what is coming, yet you are powerless to stop it. When Maegor asks for your hand in marriage, there is no question of refusal. He does not ask out of love, nor does he seek your opinion. It is a demand cloaked in formality. And so, you are wed to the King’s half-brother, the man who would soon rule with fire and blood.

Your wedding is a display of power, of domination. Maegor does not look at you as a man looks at his bride, but as a conqueror looks at new territory. That night, you feel the true weight of what it means to be his wife. His touch is possessive, harsh, as if he is claiming you in both body and spirit. You are not just a woman to him—you are a vessel, the key to his legacy, the bearer of his children.

And soon, that is exactly what you become.

Your belly swells with the evidence of Maegor’s claim, and the court watches in awe as the rumors begin to swirl. You are carrying not one, but three babes. It is as if the gods themselves have blessed your union, gifting Maegor with a legacy befitting his house—the three-headed dragon of Targaryen. His obsession grows with each passing day as your pregnancy progresses. He watches you constantly, his hands never far from your stomach, his gaze intense, possessive, and burning with an unspoken madness.

When you finally give birth, it is as if the entire realm holds its breath. Three babes—two boys and a girl, each as perfect as the dragons their blood rides—are born to you. The court hails it as a miracle, and Maegor’s obsession deepens, solidifying into something far darker. He sees you not just as his wife but as the mother of his dynasty, the woman who gave him three heirs, who brought the Targaryen sigil to life in flesh and blood.

“You have given me what no other could,” he says to you, his hand resting possessively over your belly, even as you cradle your newborns in your arms. His voice is thick with pride, but there is something else there—something darker. “Three-headed, like the dragon. You are my wife, my queen. You will give me more.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air like a threat, and though your body is still weak from the birthing, you know Maegor will not wait long. He is not a patient man, and now that you have proven yourself capable of giving him heirs, he will want more. His hunger is insatiable, and his obsession with you—his vessel, his wife—has grown into something that feels like madness.

It is not long before you are with child again, your belly growing heavy with Maegor’s next heir. The court watches with a mixture of awe and fear, for they know that you are the key to Maegor’s power, the woman who can provide him the legacy he so desperately craves. He watches over you like a dragon guards its hoard, his eyes always on you, his hand always tracing the swell of your belly as if ensuring that his claim remains intact.

But there is no love in Maegor’s gaze—only possession. You are his, body and soul, and you know that you will never escape him. He is the dragon, and you are his queen, bound to him by fire and blood.

[luna-cove]

Double Trouble | Luke and Kieran ft. Sylus

✧ summary: you take a quick liking to luke and kieran, they do the same.

✧ pairing: luke x female reader, kieran x female reader, sylus x female reader

✧ word count: 9.5K

✧ genre: smut, slight angst and fluff

✧ warnings: explicit sexual content, porn with little/no plot, dubious consent, manipulation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, threesome, vaginal sex, dirty talk, blindfolds, rough sex, oral sex(m! and f! receiving), masturbation, mask kink, fingering, finger sucking, face fucking, teasing, creampie, choking, degradation, praise kink, name-calling, pet names, switch!reader kinda,

✧ a/n: i posted this two months ago?? on ao3?? yeah so this was my first ever smut so it’s not great but i’m learning lmao. enjoy and be kind. this was inspired by milkandstarlight on here and one of their posts abt the twins <3

You woke up with your wrists and ankles bound and in a random man's car. You must of finally made it to the N109 Zone.

Your mind was still hazy from the drugs wearing off. Everything was happening so fast and the next thing you knew you were thrown on the ground, the dried grass straching against your palms that caught yourself. Dead trees adorned the dark gray, cloudy sky. You say a mausoleum not far from you, assuming it must a been a cemetry before the incident that happend years ago. A man appeared in front of you, only pulled out a knife and start searching over your body for the Aether Core as he held it near your throat. Like an angel from above, you heard a voice call out.

"Kidnapping Onychinus' prey without letting us know... That's not exactly polite."

The sky turned a light red at the voice. The man got behind you at the sound, the knife now closer to your throat than before. That feeling of a savior went as quickly it came. Another called out once more.

"She's ours, by the way. We called dibs a long time ago."

A black smoke cloud with red light streaks appeared out of nowhere and sliced the assailant's arm. The knife falling out of his hand and onto the ground. You followed shortly after as the man tried to get away. The cloud of red and black appeared again, this time revealing a masked individual in its mist. He stood tall, dressed in black with red accents to his outfit and mask. A hood with two red devil horns covered him.

"I'm really curious... She's brave enough to drink from a black glass."

He turned toward you, as he walked over another individual basically identical appeared behind him from the mist. Your kidnapper had failed to escape, dropping to his knees right in front of the second masked man who stepped on his back and pushed him further into the ground. A small cloud came from his hand, before it registered in your mind, it quickly darted across your kidnapper's throat. The sound of the blade could be heard and then you saw a pool of blood on the cobblestone. The man collapsed forward before he dissipated into ash.

"What will she do when backed into a corner..." One of them pondered as he sauntered up to you alongside the other.

Truthfully, it had you feeling something unexplainable.

"You're pretty bold for releasing information about the Aether Core into the Nest like that." The second said.

"Explains why boss is so interested."

"Where is he?"

"He said to wait."

"Well, how long?"

The two bickered between each other. Brothers, no doubt. They turned back to you, the attention making you freeze, not that the restraints gave you much to work with. However, you didn't expect them to pick you up and sit you down a woren down concerte slab. One on each side and for far too long was it quiet with no head of Onychinus showing.

"I'm bored." One sighed. "I am truly getting curious... About that backed into a corner thing."

The masked man was now sitting next to you in closer than ever. It was just a mask looking at you but you felt like he could see the deepest parts of your soul.

"Luke, you know Sylus will be here any moment." The other reminded him. "Not the time. Leave her alone."

"She's so pretty..." Luke said sweetly as his nimble fingers reached up to push a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Don't you think, Kieran?"

He didn't answer. All you could see was his back turned to the both of you with his arms crossed. You looked back at the one named Luke who's thigh still touched your own.

"What's your name, pretty?" He asked. "Boss never told us."

"Y/n..." You spoke up.

"Well, Y/n..." He leaned before he whispered mischievously, "Would you like to play with me?"

You backed away to look at the man in front you, partly surprised at his bluntness as you knew exactly what he meant by 'play' and the other part of you was intrigued by him.

"The boss would be very mad if you were to mess with his new toy." Kieran interrupted.

"Toy?" You scoffed at him. "Yes... I want to play with you. Both of you, actually."

"So ambitious." Luke chuckled. "Did you hear that, Kieran? She wants to take both of us."

"But Sylus-"

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him. We just have to be quick, that's all."

It clicked that they meant right there and then, in the open. It was secluded but the thought of the possibility of being caught was somewhat thrilling. In an attempt to find any sort of relief you clenched around nothing.

"You're okay with that right, Princess?" Luke questioned, his hand smoothing over your jean cladded thigh.

He wanted nothing more than to rip them off of you. The way your cheeks flushed, the way your eyes were hazed over and the sudden instense body heat that radiated off of you already told him the answer. The nodding of your head just confirmed it and within moments you lost your sight as he asked his brother for help. A dark piece of cloth came to blindfold you and all you could rely on was your other senses as you were surrounded by two men you just met. You could hear Kieran behind you take off his mask and put it on the concrete as you felt one of his brother's hand caress down the curve of your waist to rest on the band of your pants. It lingered just above where you needed for far too long to your liking. Your heavy breathing became pants before you bucked your hips.

"Do something, please." You begged.

"Eager now, are we?" Kieran murmured into your ear as he pushed your hair over to your other shoulder.

Suddenly, you felt his lips leave gentle but long kisses on the skin of your exposed neck, he pulled back the fabric of your shirt down to leave a longer trail on your shoulder. The sound of the blade rang in the air and your ankles relax as the rope fell to the ground. You felt Luke move to your side before his hand trailed down your abdomen and into your underwear as you spread your legs. The way his fingertips immediately brushed so softly over your clit has you sigh as you jolt before and relaxing into his brother's chest. You whimpered as he rubbed gently circles into the bud.

"You're so wet and we've barely done anything." You could hear the smile and pride in his voice when he said that. "What got you that way? Tell me."

You didn't respond to him. He rubbed your clit with more pressure which had you gasping and squirming in Kieran's embrace as he left little bites on your tender skin.

"Tell me." Luke repeated.

"Just the way you came in... I don't know, the way you say things, the way you fought the kidnapper and everything... I found it hot. You looked hot, fuck."

You were humiliated, falling apart for these two and for what? They both laughed.

"You don't even know what we look like." Luke taunted. "Is it the masks? Do they turn you on? Is it the mystery?"

"It's cute." Kieran chimed in.

From behind, a hand came up and gripped your jaw to pull you closer before crashing his lips against yours. Your tongues brush against each other. It was so dirty and messy in contrast to how light and sweet his touch remained on your cheek. It was so intoxicating... Suddenly, the rough rope wasn't digging into your wrists anymore and you couldn't help but reach behind and find your hand in Kieran's soft hair in an effort to keep in close as he took your breath away. Luke's slender fingers found their way further down, teasing your entrance with light touches that had you whining against the other's lips as you desperately searched for a way to satisfy the growing heat inbetween your legs.

"She's being so good... Taking us both and not running away." Kieran pulled away from your lips to tell his brother. "We don't have much time, hurry up for her sake at least."

The sensation of two digits plunging into you while his thumb rubbed against your clit had you moaning as you threw your head back against the other's shoulder. You were so pathetically desperate for them. You let out little whimpers and moans which each thrust in and out of her fingers. It started so agonizing slow before speeding up and you couldn't but try to chase the feelings with your hips. You could feel Kieran's hard-on from behind and every move from you was torturous. Despite his discomfort, he continued to nibble and lick on the sweet spots of your neck as he ran his hands up and down your body. All of your pleasure was interrupted by a phone ringing, coming from the boy behind you.

"It's Sylus."

"Shit."

Luke took his hand out of your pants so quickly. You sighed in disappointment, it felt like you had a pool in your underwear. It was so cold the way the fabric sat against you. You found yourself clenching around nothing once more. You felt fingers from Kieran against your lips.

"Suck." He whispered the demand in your ear.

Without a thought, you followed the ordered as he picked up the phone. Not even paying attention to the phone call happening behind you.

"We'll be there as soon as possible, Boss."

The sound of the phone disconnecting was heard. It was brief but the silence in the air was so thick. You released his fingers with a 'pop'

"What did he say?" Luke questioned.

"He's not coming, something came up." The other answered.

"So we have more time with her."

"We can't be suspicious but a little. So, move."

Kieran got up, leaving you dazed as you heard him shuffling around next to you. He ordered his brother to move you over. You felt hands run over your clothed thighs.

"Do you want to cum, princess?” He asked.

”Please…” You cried, begging for a release of any kind.

Still blind, in the matter of seconds you were exposed from the waist down. Cloth could be felt against your skin rather than concrete. Cool air hit your core. Your legs fell apart instantly, pleading for some type of stimuli in between. Hands gripped your thighs as more shuffling could be heard. You fully expected to feel a hand once more but the presence of warm breath hit you. A long, slow strip was licked up your heat that caused you to let an embarrassing high pitched moan. A few kitten licks followed. You felt fingers tease your folds, picking up slick before falling deep into you. A tongue lapped at your bud in such a delicious way as the digits instead you slowly build up pace. You squirmed in other’s lap, mouth agape with small whines and sinister moans escaping every now and again. You grabbed at Luke who was now behind you in an attempt to ground yourself as you humped his brother’s tongue in desperation.

“With the way you act at just at some fingers and tongue…” He started as he held your hands tighter. “I can’t wait to see how wild you’ll go on my cock… You’d look so pretty taking all of me.”

You whimper in response. The lust was insatiable at this point and like a possession.

“Wanna cum—So bad—I want more.” You whined out. “I want both of you inside of me… Please.”

Kieran came to a halt which cause you to collapse weakly as you breathed heavy.

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you?” Kieran asked, the sound of a belt buckle becoming undone and dropping to the ground. “Can you really take both of us, let alone me?”

”Fuck me, please!” You cried out. “I wanna be filled up so bad.”

It felt painful, them constantly building you up with no release. You were ready to lose it if you hadn’t already. You laid there, helplessly in silence waiting for something to happen. The lack of touch was unbearable but you still feel them around you. A hand came to touch your thigh and move it upward, exposing you to the hair once more.

Something hard and warm rubbed against your folds finally. You let out a sigh of relief, knowing soon enough you’ll have what you’ve been craving.

”It’s not fair that you get her first.” One whined, obviously Luke.

”Maybe you shouldn’t have been such a tease then.” Kieran retorted. “I’m just giving her what she asked for.”

The head of his cock throbbed against your clit. The feeling disappeared within moments, a thumb came to make gentle motions on your bud as you finally felt the tip enter you. He tenses until he reaches the hilt and feel him relax against you as he falls forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder just for a moment. He lets out a breathy grunt in your ear.

”So fucking tight.” He whispered.

Heat radiated off of him. His words unintentionally make you clench around his member causing him to let out a high pitch moan in your ear. He ruts into you so deeply, your head rolls back into his brother’s lap. The steady pace of him hitting all the right areas within your walls had you screaming and shaking with pleasure as you encourage him to keep going in between out of breath moans.

”More—Harder—Faster…” You begged, you hand resting against his abdomen, the touch sending shocks of pleasure straight down into his cock.

”Whatever you want, princess.”

Kieran’s hands come up to grab your waist to lift you up against him, snapping his hips against yours as the sounds of skins slapping against each other echoed around you. Your mouth fell agape once more as you whined out almost pornographically. Your eyes rolled back behind the blindfold as he reached deep within you, hitting everything so perfectly.

So lost in your own world with Kieran, you had forgotten about the other masked man before you felt his lips against your ear.

”Will you help me out, sweetheart?” He asks, softly. “You‘re doing so well…”

You could only imagine how painful it must’ve felt as you reach out toward him. Your hand traveling over his body until it rested on the restricted bulge that you rubbed over causing him to hiss. The familiar sound of a belt becoming unbuckled could be such. You were shocked to feel something soft touch your lips.

”Suck me off, please.” He pleaded with a moan.

He’d be lying if he said seeing you suck his brother’s fingers off while he was on the phone didn’t do something to him. The way your tongue swirled around his fingers and the drool around your lips made him feel so primal almost.

His voice… The way he begged and asked so politely, it went straight to your core and instinctively your tongue came out to lick over the slit before your lips wrapped around his tip, giving him a light suck as little sighs of relief spilled from him. You release it, a string of salvia still connecting between the two of you. You lick the underside of his shaft from the base up that caused a jolt in him before you eagerly take all of him in your mouth.

Taken back, he lets out a long moan and pulls your hair back as he watches the way you bob your head up and down on him. He throws his head as he can’t help but buck his hips into your mouth at the sight of you getting fucked out.

His pace quickened. You choked a bit as his cock hit the back of your throat. Jaw aching, tears pricked your eyes. You moaned against him as Kieran is ramming into relentlessly, one hand rubbing circles into your clit that slowly accelerated while the other found its way under your shirt and bra to squeeze your nipple.

“Oh fuck, Y/n.” You heard Luke curse, his hips began to falter against your nose.

He speeds up for a few seconds, hitting the back of your throat without a care beside his own pleasure before he slows down. A warm, thick liquid hits your tongue. As hot cum fills your mouth as a reflex you swallow it all. The only evidence left being the little bits of cum that spilled over lips.

“Such a good girl…” Luke moaned before he wiped the cum away from your mouth.

He grabbed your face to leave a kiss on your lips, tasting the saltiness left over from him. It was oddly sweet considering what just happened prior. You sighed against his lips, swiping your tongue along his bottom lip before his lips parted to let your tongues meet one another.

Pants and heavy breathing filled the air as Kieran still fucked into you. You moaned into the other’s mouth as he got dangerously close to your sweet spot, the stimulation on your clit intensifying it all. His thrusts began to become more erratic, the friction on your bud increasing. You cried out as he abused that spot inside you.

”Fuck yes, yes, yes!” You screamed, going crazy as Luke held you.

You felt yourself getting closer and closer, reaching out for Kieran in front of you holding onto his waist as plowed into you. You felt a wave of pleasure wash over you, letting out a pathetically long, high-pitch moan. You withered in Luke’s arms as he kissed up and down your neck as you made an attempt to drag out your orgasm as long as possible on the other’s length.

The way you grind yourself and squeeze against him sent him over the edge. His hips slowed as you felt the sensation of warm cum coat your walls that had you letting out gasp. Kieran leaned down, leaving a long bit deep kiss on your lips as he finished his final thrusts before he pulled out. You winced at the sudden feeling of emptiness within you and the lose of the other behind you. Cum started to leak out of you and drip down your thighs and onto the cloth beneath. You lay there against hard surface, catching your breath.

“So pretty.” You heard one of them mumble.

You didn’t expect your vision to come back so quickly. Looking around, you found them both dressed with their masks back on. You felt something swipe over your thigh, realizing it was the thing just around your eyes now wiping up the mess made. You reached out to grab the man’s wrist in an effort to stop him.

”You didn’t get a turn.” You said, weakly.

”Another time, princess.” He laughed. “You’re too considerate.”

He got done cleaning you up as best as possible, discarding the soiled items while the other help you stand up and get dressed.

“How can you tell us apart?” Kieran asked as you stepped back into your shoes.

”Your voices are different…” You told.

”Whose do you like better?”

It’d had been difficult some time since you entered the N109 Zone. You met Sylus, leader of Onychinus. The man was intimidating and looking into his eyes had you feeling like he knew everything about you. A voice would appear in your head whenever you met his gaze. It was quite odd and against your own wishes, you ended up shooting the guy and being knocked out for a day.

You wondered, could he tell what his servants just did to you? Could he tell how much you enjoyed it and wanted something to happen again? No way… If it was that much an issue like the twins made it seem to be messing around with you. You wouldn’t have woken up with both of them looking at you.

You found yourself spending most of your time with Sylus when he was awake. However, when he was asleep you always found yourself with Luke and Kieran for hours on end… Their boss would be sleeping in the room next to theirs while they had you taking one of them from behind as the other sat in front of you, holding your face and telling you how good you were being before they switched.

You began to realize they were very different in the realm of sex. Luke would always praise you but Kieran, he liked to degrade you. Luke liked to edge you, the way you fell apart on him after all the built up gave him a sense of pride. He was usually more gentle with you and his pacing to get to your orgasms while his brother would rail you and overstimulate you, loving the way you’d become a drooling mess. Their stamina was insane

You found yourself under Kieran who held your wrists as he fucked up into you one night. Luke massaged your clit with one hand as he stroked his own length with the other from the side. You were litter with little love bites from the both of them. The bed frame creaked against the wall adding to the excitement of Sylus finding out and walking in the scene.

Your eyes rolled back at the idea as you bit your lip to suppress a moan from slipping pass. The brutal, quick thrusts stopped and turned into long, drawn out ones that hit you hard once Kieran did snap his hips into you. You let out a small moan at the uncharacteristic thing of him.

”We want to hear you.” He said.

”But Sylus…” You sighed out at the feeling of his hips meeting yours before slowly being dragged out.

He chuckles, “I’m inside of you right now. I can feel you clench around me every time the bed frame creaks. I feel you every time you can hear him stir in his sleep and how you relax when he goes back to snoring. You like the idea of him knowing and seeing you like this, don’t you?”

You shook your head against the pillow. A sharp motion of his hips had his tip reach that spot inside you that had you yelp with no way to cover your mouth.

”You’re lying.” He said. “You want him to see you all filled up with our cum, all fucked out and dumb from us. You want him to see what a slut you are and you want him to treat you the same way.”

A clench around his shaft at the words was just a confirmation before he started back up with his relentless pounding into you that had you whining as you approached your orgasmed and found yourself under the other for the nth time that day.

They seemed to pick up on much more than their boss. Whenever the two of you got home from somewhere, they could tell when Sylus did something that unintentionally got you hot and bothered. He wasn’t going to take care of it so they were always so kind to do so. Sometimes so kind to try and recreate what happened with a twist.

“Relax. You can handle it.” Luke whispered into your ear as he aligned himself with your entrance.

He opened your palm with his hand before intertwining your fingers with his. It was much more gentle than the encounter with Sylus and also Kieran’s recreation but maybe gentle was the you need to end this session with them as soon this time would need to come to an end for the sake of normality.

A few hours of sleep was never enough time for recovery from the twins. You were barely able to walk normal out into the dining room were Sylus and them all sat eating a meal. The boys snickered to one another and even teased you about it in front him which was odd considering they were the ones wanting to hide it. The man with white hair and piercing eyes never said anything or even batted an eye at their teasing. You’d blush about it still and further in the day you’d be annoyed with the little pranks they’d pull on you whenever their boss was around.

You always got distance during the day but at night they’d always start luring you back with kisses and promises of pleasure. However the next time, in their room, they told you they only reason they did it was so nothing seemed suspicious. Whenever they had guest they’d tease and mess with them in the way they did in front of Sylus. You were the only guest they teased and messed with in other ways. They didn’t want to bite the hand that feeds them.

Once you were aware of this, you started to give as good as you get. You'd pull Kieran around the corner asking to show him something and once hidden behind a wall you'd grab his hand just to wrap your lips around his fingers and such while looking up at him with doe eyes. Sylus quite literally always in the next room eating or doing something else at a leisurely pace. with the potential of him catching you both. The first time stunned him but it almost became a game of how many times you could do it. It didn't stop there, sometimes you'd pull Luke away to make out with him. The other started to get jealous that you weren't taking him behind a wall to kiss and they'd start to fight over who got to sneak away with you which you'd smile at.

Other times it was one of them sneaking their hands down your panties as you tried to stay as quiet as possible while bucking in their hand or them getting on their knees and pull your shorts and underwear aside to get a taste and lick you up and down as you covered your mouth with your head thrown back. The rest of the time, it was their turn where you'd take one of them away and end up on your knees for them, a hand in your hair always guiding you at a pace they selected as they bucked their own hips accordingly or your hand would be wrapped around their length as their masks came to rest just above your lips allowing you hid their moans from the mere feets away.

It wasn’t always sex, they knew you needed a break with the way they pushed you. Sometimes, it was just talking on their bed or playing a game. They refused to take off their masks no matter what you did or said. You became familiar with only the sight of their pink lips as they would only lift their masks so far off. It was the one thing you hated while also loving it. Seeing them in their masks as they were deep into you, their own grunts and moans leaking out did something to you and you had no idea why. But if you wanted to be kissed anywhere by either of them at all while they gave countless orgasms, you’d have to be blindfolded or one would have to cover your eyes. They always refused and they never told you the reason.

”Why do I never get to see your faces?” You whined as Luke’s fingers traced shapes up and down your arms as you laid between him in Kieran.

”You like the masks.” He said, softly. “We don’t want to ruin what you like.”

“I would like you both either way.” You admitted.

With the amount of times the both of them had flipped you into different positions, fucked you in multiple parts of the estate and had finished in you, you think the would’ve realized that by now.

“Who would you like more?”

Maybe it was the mystery of it. It killed you because it felt like the final barrier between you all. You wanted to see their faces contort in pleasure as you sink down on them. You wanted to see them try to hold back their own noises of bliss. You wanted to see them desperate for you in their entirety.

The best you get to that was pinning Luke to the bed one night. While riding him, your hand snaked up to his throat to squeeze lightly. A choked moaned came threw which had you smirking. Your other hand rested on his shoulder as you bounced yourself up and down on his shaft, giving him a show as you let out whines and little phrases of encouragement to him while out of breath that him twitching inside of you as you tried to speed up.

You weren’t on your high horse for long before Kieran came and lifted you off only to have you sink down on him. You’re back to his rest while on his lap, he held your legs wide open. Planting his feet into the mattress, he used his momentum to fuck into you as your mouth hung open, letting out pitiful gasps. The other now in front of you, knowing exactly what you want in that moment as one of his hand reached to rub your bud while the other situated his mask just above his lips so he could comfortably kiss you and swallow your noises.

”Such a good cum slut.” He snickered as he filled you up to brim.

You hated how much you loved it. The feeling of being so full but also empty. You hated how much you loved them being the reasons behind all your orgasm.

He knew what you liked. They both did by the way your walls would wrap even tighter around them whenever they did something or said something new.

As much as they liked those incredibly intimate moments with you, they liked just being with you, knowing more about you as a person. They were attached you and began to wonder what they’d do when you had to leave because that time was coming sooner or later with that auction approaching. They didn’t let you know but they were already planning rendezvouses to Linkon for you.

Sylus set you up on a little mission to find a broach he hid somewhere. However, they saw you be thrown out of his room multiple times within the last few hours and saw you disappear behind the doors again recently. You hadn’t been seen again so maybe it was a good thing for you but when you opened the door they could hear the shower running.

They looked at each other as the door clicked closed, silently hoping to one another that it wasn’t time to cross that road just yet… However, it wasn’t longer after that they heard the door swing open.

”Leave. I’m going to bed.” A deep voice sighed as a thud could be heard before the door slammed shut.

You were cursing under your breath as you entered the study. You threw yourself on the couch. A notepad rest in your lap, scribbling a way in it angrily as your grumbled to yourself, unaware of the twins’ presence in the room with you.

“You're pulling your hair out over this, huh?” Kieran asked, gently, catching your attention. “If you want to do something, maybe we can help you.”

You looked up to see him sitting on the desk, looking at you over his shoulder while his brother sat in a chair next to him, his chin resting in his hand.

“What do you mean?” You poured.

”If you want to conquer our boss's heart, you'll have to use a different approach.” Luke informed you while leaning back in his chair before pulling out a book and opening it to cite something."For some people, they get bored once they have everything. So only those who dare to challenge their authority can catch their interest."

He closed the book, resting it on the table as you walked up to take it in your hands.

"When you're dealing with such a person, you bow down and submit or take them out in one go.” Kieran picked up where his brother left off. “In other words—“

A pair of handcuffs and gun where thrown on the surface before you, leaving you puzzled.

“Strike when they’re off guard.” They said in unison.

”Boss is the least guarded when he's sleeping.” Kieran told you.

”You only have one shot. Don't waste this chance. Just do it!” Luke encouraged you. “You’re blushing… What happened in there?”

Part of you hoped, he wouldn’t noticed. It didn’t help when the other reached out to you.

”You’re so warm too…” Kieran pointed out. “You’re in the mood, aren’t you?”

“Yes…” You felt guilty at the confession. “I went in when he was taking a shower and then he walked out in just a short towel. He just had to catch me eavesdropping too and then he basically tied me up with his evol and I’m tired of it.”

They chuckled at you as your cheeks appeared brighter. Usually now, you’d be taken care of for hours but as they walked up to you all they did was pull up their masks a bit to leave kisses on both your cheeks.

”You don’t have much time.” Luke reminded you. “As I said, you have to take your chance now. I promise to take care of you later once you get what you need.”

He left a gentle kiss on your forehead.

”One more for good luck.” Kieran said before leaving a kiss on your lips.

They put their masks back down as they saw you walk away. The door closed behind you and energy in the air shifted immediately once you no longer stood there with them.

“You know what we just did, right?” Kieran asked his brother.

”I know, unfortunately.” Luke sighed.

Sylus did not like being handcuff to his bed by you in attempt to get the broach. The gun was only full of confetti, a mortifying betrayal.

”You’re so gullible, kitten.” The man snickered.

At least you got the broach though.

Your clothes laid discarded on the floor. The bed creaked, the sounds of screams and pants filled the air alongside skin slapping. Sweat covered your body and cum started to cake your thighs. You don’t know how long you had been there or how many times Sylus made you cum around his fingers, tongue and cock.

Overstimulated, the brushing of his robe tickles you with every thrust that had you letting out quiet whines. You laid there with your face against the mattress and ass up in the air. Sylus’ hands gripped your hips so hard to bring you back on him, hard. Your walls snug around him as you cried out for more. His hand grabbed your jaw to lift your head up as his thrust got harder against you.

“So eager, sweetie.” He teased you. “You were never disgusted by me, were you? You were just mad I didn’t fuck you. You could’ve just said something. I would’ve gladly taken care of you sooner. How many rounds have we’ve gone and you’re still not tired? So pathetic and desperate.”

You let out a helpless moan in response, finally opening your eyes long enough to look back at the white haired man. However, something out of the corner of your eyes caught your attention. You’d know those masks anywhere and they were peaking out from the doorway, watching you. You froze up a little bit as you noticed them but you knew deep down you liked the fact that they were there watching, with no way to do anything. You liked it even more when you could see the both of them with bulges in their pants.

Nothing would ever be true payback but you had to try at least…

You got up weakly, the arms shaking underneath you as Sylus continued.

“Wait.” You panted. “I want to try something.”

His thrusts slowed only for him to be able to put more force in them. You cried as you collapsed forward the mattress.

”Don’t tell me what to do, sweetie.” He grunted, bitterly.

His pace picked up again. Sore and weak, you mustered up all your strength to pull yourself flush against him. You’re back now against his bare, muscular torso. You threw your head back on his chest as you used his sides as a way to pick up momentum to match his thrusts whatsoever.

You looked at him with doe eyes as you gasped for air, absolutely letting yourself get lost in the pleasure while repeatedly sinking on him. Your eyes rolled back as he used the opportunity to leave bites on your exposed neck already sprouting red marks. You looked back at the door way, the twins still there and looking in as they watch you act like you’re getting the best sex of your life.

You let them see the way you throw yourself back on him as you call out of his name breathlessly and begged to cum. Something about knowing they were watching as you stretched around the man that held power over them did something unexplainable to you. He grabbed onto your hips tightly, his tongue now brushing against yours as you whined into his mouth at his thrusts becoming more erratic and rough.

You forgot they were there… Your eyes not so much as glancing at them enraged them as well as the uncomfortable feeling in between their thighs that would have no resolve. They both stormed down the hall, away from Sylus’ room but it didn’t matter. They could still hear you scream his name and moans which made their blood boil in a way it shouldn’t of.

You don’t remember falling asleep under the black silk sheets that belonged to Sylus. The white haired man was fast asleep next to you. Everything felt oddly clean… You do vaguely remember cleaning you up afterward, letting you shower and borrow a sweater off his. He brought you to bed after, the sheets fresh. It was unexpected of him, uncharacteristically sweet of him. You fully anticipated him telling you to get out as soon as he used you but he didn’t.

Maybe you were wrong about him.

You slipped out of his bed. The lost of warmth next to him made him stir a bit in his sleep. You look at him to make sure he doesn’t wake up as you quietly start on a mission to sneak out of his room. When you go to turn your attention to the door, Luke and Kieran stand in front of you all of a sudden. It takes you aback for a moment and then you remember how pissed off you are at them. You immediately push pass them and they follow shortly behind you into the hallway.

”Hey, where are you going?” Luke asked.

”To my room.” You respond, rather bitterly. “Leave me alone.”

”We’re sorry.” Kieran sighed.

His words stopped you as you slowly turned around to glare at the twins who looked rather guilty.

”So you did know?” You scoffed. “God, I was really hoping you didn’t because then it’d be so much easier. I’m so fucking mad at you both!”

”He only told us so much so not really…”

“We didn’t know it was going to happen.”

”Only a feeling, huh? And you didn’t even care to share that me? You’re both suppose to be the ones I’m closest to. How am I suppose to trust you two if you don’t tell me things?”

“We want to! But he could tell we want to say something to you and we just couldn’t… You know how he is. We’re sorry again, Y/n. We can’t say that enough...”

The way they stood there with their heads down. Truthfully, you couldn’t be mad at them. You loved them too much. They knew you want Sylus at some point anyway.

“Make it up to me.” You demanded.

”Huh?” They asked in unison.

”You heard me.” You said.

”How?”

“Like you haven’t done it before. I know seeing another man in me ticked you both off. At least, I hope it did so you both learn your lesson.”

They nodded which had you smiling before they ran over to you to lift up their masks and exchange kisses before take you to their room. You were thrown on their mattress in the matter of seconds after the door opened. A familiar blindfold came to cover your eyes as you heard both their masks come to rest on their nightstand. Your body became hot with kisses sernaded by the both them, long licks over the right spots. Their hands roamed over your body, carress certain parts, gripping and massaging the others which had you gasping between long kisses you shared with the both of them.

You felt one’s hand come to rest against your heat over your panties that whined at at as the other’s hand lifted up the knitted sweater over your chest. You felt a pair of lips wrap itself around your nipple, teeth lightly brushing against it that you had you arching up. A brief slurping sound of the bud being sucked could be heard before you felt the unknown twin start to lap at it with his tongue. The hand continued to rub against you at such an agonizing slow pace. Your essence starting to leave a dark spot on the cloth and coat his fingers slighly. You whined at the sudden lost of friction but was presently surpised to feel a kiss on top of your underwear causing you to jolt and buck your hips at the stimulation.

Most definitely Luke...

Right as you felt a finger hook around the soaked cloth of your panties, it stopped.

"Stop, I have an idea." He told his brother before you heard shared, indistinct whispers exchanged between the both of them.

High of lust, you didn't fully process them lifting you up and moving elsewhere. That was until you found yourself on a much harder surface. Your underwear came off in a swift motion. Your thighs found a familiar place on what was presumably Luke's shoulder as he dragged you closer to him. The blindfold came off, your eyes squinting as they adjusted to the increase in light around, Looking around, you saw the sheets on the bed in front of you bunched up. Your eyes widened as you saw the tuffs of white hair peak out from the sheets. You were in Sylus' room, on his couch. The tongue leaving a sudden stripe over you had all the worry disspate for a moment as you clenched around nothing, biting your lip yearning for more. Luke teases you on his tongue, never quite hitting the spot you need but getting so close which has you throwing your head back on the couch. You find Kieran behind the couch, his hands running over you shoulders passed the bunched up sweater to gently pinch your nipples between his fingers. You thrashed against the couch, grinding against the other's tongue, the beak of his mask that concede his identity, digging into you as you watched the bed occupied by a sleeping Sylus in front of you with hooded eyes.

"What a slut." Kieran degraded you, the beak of his mask running up the side of your neck as he whispered in your ear. "Your still wearing his sweater while two different people pleasure you... In his room where he could wake up any moment and see how desprate you are to let annyone ruin you."

You felt the flutter in your core at his words, Luke focuing more at the way his long flicks your bud in-between your legs. You grab the top of his head, tongue now flat against you to let you grind on his tongue until he can taste your sweet release on him as you shake, mouth agape as you let out heavy breaths. He comes up from between your thighs, his chin covered in liquid as he leans in allowing you to taste yourself on him.

"What's next, princess?" He asked, smile on his lips that peeked out from under the mask, chin still covered in your essence.

"I need you inside of me..." You shamelessly confessed.

They were trying to make it up to you so you knew they’d just give in today to make you happy.

”Which one?”

You saw an opportunity to mess when with them.

”I want Luke.” You said as you grabbed onto Kieran behind you.

They looked at each other, probably puzzled because it never mattered how dumb they fucked you, you’d always know the difference between them. However, they didn’t say anything as the other came to sit down on the couch.

You wasted no time in straddling his lap once he took a seat. You took his hard cock into your hand and lined up with your entrance before sinking down abruptly causing him to let out a small grunt as you did, a hand coming to rest on your waist. Unexpectedly for him, your hand wrapped around his throat. You bit your lip as you tightly squeeze it. You didn’t anticipate a loud moan to leave him as you looked back to make sure Sylus was still asleep. You didn’t expect to feel him twitch inside of you and grab at your waist as an attempt to bring you closer.

Kieran never let you take control. You didn’t expect him to like it, you didn’t think you’d get away with it either. You thought he was going to flip you over onto the couch and without regard to the others in the room, just fuck you into the sofa. Yet, he was still under you, letting you rock back and forth for your own pleasure.

The lack of powerfulness with Kieran turned you on even more. Your other hand came to rest on his shoulder to aid you and bouncing up and down on his shaft that his head lolled back on the back of the couch. His fingers digged into your skin as you could hear him try to control his volume. His thighs tensed under you ever so often, his tip twitching inside of you every time your walls hugged him tighter.

”And you call me a slut.” You chuckled bitterly into his ear, his hands freezing. “Yet, you’re loving the fact that I’m in control, fucking you in front of your sleeping boss and we could be caught at anymore. You’re the whore.”

”You knew it was me?” Kieran choked at as your grip on his throat became tighter causing him to moan helplessly.

He always called you a slut while Luke always told you were a good girl.

”Payback.” You smirked. “Now, be a good boy and cum for me, hmm?”

He took this as a sign to grip onto your waist, thrusts into you by his own accord. Moans and grunts escaped his lips as you occasionally squeezed the sides of his throat even tighter, ones that went straight to your core that caused your walls to hug him even tighter. You could feel his pace shorten and become inconsistent, knowing he was close.

”I’m going to cum…” He whimpered out, stroking your ego to see him like this.

”Hmm,” You hummed, your other hand sneaking behind the mask to grip at his hair as you felt him approach the edge. “Not in me you’re not.”

You got up too quickly for him to process. He whined as thick, white ribbons spurted out and dripped down his shaft and onto his thighs. He desperately bucked up into nothing. He heaved out as his cock twitched, releasing the last of his seed.

You crawled over to Luke who sat on the other side of the sofa. He was so lost in the pleasure he was given himself as he thrusted upward into his fist as he moaned quietly. The way he squeezed himself ever so often with his hand cover in precum was reminiscent of teasing, like he was trying to the milk the longevity of it. He didn’t realize you were there until he felt you between his legs. The way you looked up at him so sweetly but also so lustful, he swore he could’ve bust right then and there.

”I want you to cum in me.” You whispered to him, in a low sensual tone.

”You don’t have to tell me twice.” He sighed, blissfully.

You two swapped places. Your head now laid against the armrest of the sofa as he situated himself between your thighs. He separated your folds before positioning himself at your entrance. He slowly bottom out in you causing you both let out sighs of relief. Your eyes rolled back at the feeling of being full. You grabbed at the armrest behind you as Luke started with a firm thrust into you. He pulled up the knitted sweater that still adorned your body, just over your chest to see the way your breasts bounced up at every meeting of his hips against yours. You could feel the way he somehow got harder at the sight of it like you hadn’t been in this position countless times. The scene of you taking him so well as your mouth hung agape, your eyes looking at him so desperate for more motivated him to keep up with sharp and hard thrusts into you.

You looked over at Sylus’ bed where he somehow remained asleep despite the wet sounds mixed with skin against skin right across from him. The only difference being you could now see his sleeping face as he flipped over. The idea of him seeing you like this… You just couldn’t get over it for some reason. Luke felt you squeeze around him and saw you looking at Sylus. His hand came to your chin to turn your attention to him.

”Hey, look at me, princess.” He breathed, the masking moving to the side to leave a sweet kiss on your lips. “So dirty… Loving the idea of him waking up to you getting fucked out by his henchmen in his room. Such a good slut, taking me while he’s just a few feet away.”

You let out a whiny moan as melted underneath his touch at his words. He never called you that before but the small praise mixed in made you go crazy. You clench around him as he picked up the pace in you. Your hands flew to his waist to bring him closer to you with your head thrown back on the arm rest. Moans of ours filled the empty space along with the noises of your bodies syncing with each other.

He collapsed forward, caging you in his arms as he ruts into you. Kisses littering your neck along with his familiar praises in your ear and his grunts that fueled you. You look over his shoulder at the other across the couch.

His cock in his palm. Pathetic strokes from the base up. The white liquid acting a lubricant as he tries to speed up but whines out at the sensitivity of it all. You enjoyed the idea of him touching himself at the thought of you so desperately a little too much. You always liked to see each one alone, lost in their own world as they moaned out your name when they thought you weren’t there. They never got mad when you walked in on them or happened to see. Truth to be told, they loved letting you see how much they needed you. It often turned into times alone with each respective twin that were never uttered to the other because jealousy ran deep when it came to you.

Luke could tell you weren’t paying attention to him like he asked. He felt hurt as you clenched around him knowing fell well you were looking at Kieran. The kisses ceased immediately and you lost the feeling of him inside of you that made you cry. He sat up on the couch, pulling you into his lap and had you sink down on him. With no time to really process, you felt a harsh thrust meet your hips sending you toward. Your hands gripped the coffee table in front of you. You looked up to see you now had the view of Sylus in bed once more. Your walls hugged Luke’s length as the sight hit you.

His hands grabbed your hips to allow himself to pound into you as your heart raced in your chest. You wanted to scream out so badly at him hitting the right spot inside of you over and over again. It felt too good, you were going crazy as you trembled and clawed at the coffee table for any way to ground yourself. His arms wrapped around your waist from behind. He hugged you into his chest and felt familiar lips along your neck. You could feel his cheek nuzzle against your hair and don’t quite remember a point in which he could’ve removed his mask.

”If only he could see how good you’re being for me.” Luke groaned softly into your ear. “You’d love that though. You’d put on a little show for him just like you did for us earlier. You’re so filthy… You’re our litle slut, aren’t you, hmm?”

All you do was moan quietly at his words and nod as the way he pulled you back on him made you lose control. It’s like they switched today but something about it was so attractive to you.

“What was that, sweetheart? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He taunted as he slowed which made you whine.

”Yes, Luke!” You breath. “M’need to cum—need you to cum inside of me. Fuck me…”

”You said it, not me.” He chuckled.

He left a light kiss on your cheek before he picked up his pace again. You gasped as one of his arms stayed wrapped around you waist, tightly and his other arm traveled down your body. His fingers found their way to a familiar bud between your legs. As soon as his fingertips started to make circular motions against it, you were seeing stars as he fucked up into you. You panted and whined, your eyes fixed on Sylus sleeping as you tried to keep your noises to a minimum.

Every time you squeezed around him, he’d let out a satisfied sigh. He whispered praises in your ear, nibbling on your neck and you could feel that familiar knot building up in you. You felt electricity in your body.

”Gonna cum—Gonna cum!” You whined out to which Luke speed up the stroke against your bed and the pace.

You shook as a wave of pleasure washed over you. Instinctively, rocking your hips against him as you whined and your rolled back. Shortly after, you heard him groan and felt hot, thick liquid paint your insides. The feeling had you biting your lip as you rested yourself against his chest. He used your hips to push every taste drop into you. His cum started to drip out of you and onto the couch. His cock slipping out of you do to the loss of friction.

Heavy breathing filled the room and you looked over at Kieran who was even messier than before which had you smiling. Your eyes were covered up unexpectedly as you felt Luke leave a longing kiss on your lips.

“Such a good girl…” He sighed.

“Don’t say things like that unless you want to go another round.” You huffed.

“You’d like it as much as we do.” You could hear the smile in Kieran’s voice. “We should clean and go before the boss wakes up…”

With their masks back on, Luke carried you out of the room while his brother stayed behind. Showered and cleaned up, he let you wear one of his shirts to bed and you slept soundly under the sheets. He watched you from the doorway of the bathroom after his shower, arms crossed as he sighed. He was already missing you.

His brother quietly entered their room.

”He did wake up?” Luke questioned.

”Dead to the world like usual.” Kieran answered. “Kind of impressive all that didn’t wake him up…”

His twin pushed pass him to get to the bathroom, ready to climb into the shower. He stood there looking at you, plagued by the thought that sooner or later you’d have to choose one or none. That idea killed him because no one really won in that situation.

“Hey, Mephisto wasn’t in the room, right?”

Oh shit…

©️ lunacove, 2024

[writerslittlelibrary]

Come with us...

masterlist

summary: ever since escaping the Red Room, you’ve been on the run. what happens when an annoying red-head from the past comes back into your life, accompanied by the one girl you were never able to outsmart…?

pairing: Natasha & Yelena x teen reader

warnings: guns, fighting, cursing

genre: fluff, angst

words: 1596

a/n: thunderbolts got into my head… I’m entirely back in my Black Widow era

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

The door nearly rattled off the hinges when you slammed it shut. The beat down ‘apartment’ you were staying in was barely holding on. The wallpaper was peeling, every time it rained the kitchen got wet, and there were multiple unexplainable stains in the bathroom.

It wasn’t perfect, but at least it was safe.

You escaped the Red Room close to a year ago, and you’ve never been more free than you are now. Sure, you occasionally have to move to avoid detection, and Dreykov has sent more than a few dozen widows after you, but still. For the first time in your life, your choices are your own.

You used to never even consider escaping. The Red Room was your home. You had a place, a purpose. Everything was the way it was supposed to be.

Then she came along. 

Natasha Romanoff. Dreykov’s pride and joy. The best assassin the Red Room had seen in years. Of course, that was before you came along. 

Dreykov wanted Natasha to train you. He wanted you to shadow her, pick up her traits. He put you two in a separate room, away from the dormitories. You didn’t need to be your own person, you just needed to be the perfect copy of her. 

And you hated her for it.

You were strong. You were quick. You were immensely skilled for your age, yet he felt the need to compare you to her. You were perfect the way you were, but he didn’t see it that way.

And, despite your absolute disgust, her mannerisms did rub off on you. 

You became more efficient in your fighting, pushing your body to its limits every single day while Natasha pushed you even further. You were getting stronger, and Dreykov loved it. 

But then, suddenly, she started talking about escaping. 

You don’t know when she changed, but she did. Suddenly, all she could talk about was getting away. Running from Dreykov and leaving the Red Room behind. 

You couldn’t believe what she was saying. 

She was talking about treason. Actual treason, and you couldn’t just stand there and let it happen. 

You didn’t want to, but you did.

You went to Dreykov, desperate for his approval and needy for his praise. You ratted her out. 

Dreykov believed you immediately, and praise you got. Natasha was taken, punished severely, probably. You didn’t see her again after that, but you heard the rumours that she had undergone the graduation ceremony shortly after you snitched on her.

Now, looking back, you realised she got the right idea back then. 

After your own graduation ceremony, you completed a total of twelve missions before you went on the run yourself. 

Natasha Romanoff was one of the only two girls from the Red Room you would never forget. 

There was another. A girl you were put with when you were thirteen. A blonde, who was labeled the best child assassin. 

You, of course, loathed her even more than you did Natasha. You were the best child assassin. You had been for years and years on end. You had the highest successful kill count under ten, and you had more successful missions than any of the other girls in the history of the Red Room. You were the best, so why was this stupid blonde girl claiming she was?

You fought her, of course. A lot.

Every time you spotted her in a hallway, you’d lure her out. You’d throw insults her way, talking about her time on a mission in Ohio. You knew it hurt her. Good. Every time it would result in a fight, that you’d win, and every time the blonde girl would be punished. 

What good is an assassin that can be tempted to a fight by a mere handful of words?

You last saw her during a mission in Hungary. You two were sent to retrieve a vial that was some sort of antidote to something. You didn’t know what. You didn’t ask. 

You went on the mission with Belova, but when you returned, she wasn’t there. 

You didn’t ask. 

That was nearly a year and a half ago. You later found out that most of the widows were under a special serum. Mind control. Belova had been under it too. When you two were sent to retrieve the antidote from a rogue widow, that had been the antidote against the mind control. 

You didn’t know why Dreykov hadn’t put you under the mind control, when he had clearly used it on Belova and the other widows.

You didn’t feel like sticking around to wait and have it used on you. 

So you ran.

Currently, you were in Sweden. A wonderful country, with the best perk, that it had a lot of nature. It would be easy to kill someone in the woods, and no one would ever find the body. 

You figured Dreykov and his widows would have a hard time finding you here. 

You were staying in a trailer, one that that pisshat told you would be an apartment. Apparently he gave the apartment in Budapest to someone else already. Why the hell were you paying him when he continued to do such a shitty job?

You kicked off your shoes, throwing your bag on the worn down couch while you walked, or rather stepped, into the kitchen. 

The trailer truly wasn’t large enough to walk in. 

The moment you turned on the faucet, you stilled. A floorboard creaked behind you. Someone was here. 

Slowly, you reached for your gun, letting the water run and pretending to be busy. They didn’t know you were aware of their presence yet. 

You held your gun in front of you, hiding it from whoever stood behind you. 

Then, another step. Another creak. 

You whipped around, hitting the person behind you. They were holding a gun. You hit it from her hands. 

You were able to see a mere blur of red before a person slammed into you from behind. Fuck. There were two of them. 

You whirled around, kicking the girl behind you.

Double fuck. Two girls. They must be widows here to take you back. 

You raised your gun, ready to shoot at them, before you realised who the girl in front of you was. 

Fucking Belova.

You turned around, facing the redhead. 

Natasha fucking Romanoff. 

She raised her hand, spraying something in your face, making your eyes sting. 

“What the fuck!” you yelled. “I just got this jacket!”

Natasha frowned. Belova chuckled humourlessly. 

“You aren’t under mind control…?” Natasha asked. 

“Of course you aren’t,” Belova said from behind you. 

You scoffed. “Yeah, well, unlike you, I was actually important.”

“Now, what the fuck are you two doing here?! And how do you even know each other?” you added after taking a breath.

This time, Natasha frowned. 

“You know Yelena?” 

You turned to Belova, catching her scowl. “I didn’t know you were named Yelena. But of course I know. The girl with the temper,” you smirked. 

Yelena scoffed. 

“I didn’t have a temper. You were just a bitch.” 

You shrugged. “Potato potato.” 

“You were the girl always picking fights?” Natasha concluded, to which you nod. 

“Yeah, points to sherlock.”

Then you smirked, the puzzle pieces finally all falling into place. 

You pointed at Yelena, then at Natasha. “She was the girl with you on the Ohio mission. The reason you always got so pissed and started hitting me.”

The moment you said it, Yelena’s face contorted into anger. 

“You shut your mouth over that. You were the one always picking fights with me.”

You shrugged. “I was just trying to make you resilient. You always lost your temper far too quickly.” 

“Okay, stop it,” Natasha said, stopping you and Yelena from arguing. “This isn’t going to do anything right now. Why are you here, and why aren’t you under mind control?” 

“And why are you living in this dump? Surely there are better places available,” Yelena added. 

You sighed. “I’m not a disposable widow, hence no mind control. And about a year ago I figured I was done with killing, so I ran. And the reason that I’m living in this dump is cause Mason gave my apartment to some other bitch.”

“The apartment in Budapest?” Natasha asks. 

“Uh, yeah,” you confirm, confused as to why she knows it.

“The other bitch who got that apartment was me,” Yelena reveals, to which you just shrug. 

“Statement still stands.” 

“Well, you became a raging bitch over the years.”

“I was always a bitch, Yelena.”

“Okay!” Natasha intervenes, putting her hand on your shoulder. 

“You should come with us.”

“To do what?” you ask, frowning. 

“Free the other widows from the mind control. The Red Room is gone.” Natasha says.

Your eyes widen. 

“How did that happen?” 

“We took it down, and now we’re trying to free all the widows still under his control,” Yelena adds. 

“And you want me to come with you?” you ask. Natasha nods. 

“Dreykov is gone, meaning you can start living your own life again. And somewhere other than this dump.” 

You mull her offer over for a bit, considering your realistic options. You look around the trailer, knowing you are most likely to get black mold poisoning if you stay here. You don’t have any money, you don’t have any purpose. You have nothing. 

You shrug. “Sure, why not. I’ve got nothing better to do.”

Natasha smiles, while Yelena just scoffs. 

“I’m still riding shotgun,” she states, grabbing her gun from the floor that she’d dropped when you kicked her.

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @papimapileon @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @l1kepeps1cvla @lorsstar1st @superlegend216 @ravensinthedaylight @liloandstitchstan

[akutasoda]

Hello! I saw that your request was open and I wanted to give it a go. If my request is sensitive, please let me know!

My request is the Anemo boys (including Aether) confessing their love to reader but reader thought they were joking or felt unsure. Reader has been used for their body which resulted being insecure and not believing in love. The convo would look like this.

Boy: I like you ..

Reader: For my body right?/ ..did you lose a bet or smth?

Or something along the lines. I want this request to be angst + fluff at the end cuz I only believe happy ending HAHDJSJA. Feel free to add more genshin characters in this. I'm in need of comfort and I'm praying you'll be able to do this request. If not then it's okay!

Thank you for your time!!! 💓💓💓

is this a joke?

synopsis - they finally confess to you but due to past experiences, your less inclined to believe its not a joke or such

includes - venti, xiao, kazuha, heizou

warnings - gn!reader, slight angst to fluff, maybe ooc (its been a while-), vague mentions of alcohol, vague hints of bad experiences in the past, wc - 1.9k

a/n: AAHH SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ;; arfhs long time since you sent this in but im hoping you still found the comfort you were looking for in the time it took me to get this out 🫂 also i hope you dont mind but i did exclude aether since i wasn't exactly confident enought to write him apologies :')

venti ★↷

venti was always drawn to you, a kind of unexplainable force that would constantly drag his attention to you when he knew you were around. it didn't matter when or where as it seemed like venti had an uncanny ability to detect you within any radius anywhere.

on his end, it could quite simply be pinned down to the pure admiration and awe venti felt when he looked at you. he was very sure he could admire you for hours and because he contained zero lack of awareness that he'd stare for long periods, you'd often noticed the bard staring from a distance.

the first couple of times seemed like a pure coincidence but the longer it went on, the more confused you became - admittedly even a little bit awkward when you saw the bard.

although eventually, for venti, his feelings began to constantly gnaw away at him. he didn't know how to approach you or even how to articulate what he wanted to get across to if he did approach you. for a bard, he could be quite terrible with words sometimes.

and so at some point during another night at angels' share, those feelings reached a spilling point - with a little nudge of confidence from some alcohol.

the usual crowd venti hung with became quite sick of hearing venti talk on and on about someone he seemed to hold in high regards, going on about how special he thought they were and how he wanted to talk to them more and so on.

eventually one of them suggested that he just go find you and clear up all his feelings, which, to his intoxicated mind, was a great idea that he should've thought of sooner. and so venti set off to find you and nobody really thought to stop him.

you were kept up in thoughts as you trudged home, seemingly near oblivious to your surroundings as a whole. or you were, until you heard an unfamiliar yet familiar voice called your name, you couldn't put a name to the voice but you felt as though you heard it before.

you turned to see who it was just to be quite shocked to see the bard stumbling toward you. he seemed very inebriated and it almost concerned you to see nobody accompanying him but maybe that's what compelled you to stay when he finally reached you.

immediately he seemed to almost trip over and you caught him in the process, earning you a very clingy venti who held onto you more than you thought he would. you barely managed to get a word in before you began hearing venti start babbling on about how much he admired you.

his rambling ended in him looking you dead in the eyes and declaring how much he liked you.

you didn't really know what to say.

to you, you attributed his words to either the alcohol in his system or just some dare he'd been sent on. they nearly meant nothing to you, so you awkwardly laughed it off and urged venti to go back to his friends and stop joking around.

unfortunately venti insisted on staying with you. so with a sigh, you helped him back to angels share and asked around for his friends. upon seeing you returning with venti a couple of them recognised you.

you didn't really understand what they were saying when they started talking about venti finally finding them or asking if you were the one venti always talks about so you shrugged it off again, dropped venti off and went home - you were sure it would all pass over by the next day.

but little would you know, venti would then become more insistent on becoming closer to you despite all your suspicions.

xiao ★↷

xiao never really thought to himself that he'd end up developing feelings for someone in a romantic sense. so he wasn't exactly sure what to do when he started experiencing feelings that he vaguely could accommodate to falling in love.

it took him a while to even recognise the feelings he felt when with you were different to everyone else he spent time with, it took even longer for him, and a little outside help, to start realising just what those feelings meant.

so it took alot from him to even consider confessing to you. a part of him was always thinking about him misinterpreting his feelings or you not feeling the same, which one was worse he didn't know.

but at some point xiao would build up the confidence to do so, and he wanted to make sure that he'd get his point across.

it would involve xiao looking at you with his usual emotionless stare, although this time, for you, it seemed a lot more serious than usual and soon enough all he said was “i like you”

for a brief moment you were surprised before you awkwardly smiled, looked away insisting he doesn't say anything like that as a joke again. to you, there was no feasible way xiao would like you, it was truly lost on as you didn't exactly take xiao as a joking person let alone someone who would like someone else romantically - unless someone told him to as a joke…

xiao didn't understand why you thought it was joke. he was being dead serious so he said it again which simply earned an awkward glance from you which irked him a bit as he didn't know how to truly get his point across.

so he tried a third time, grasping your hands in his, looking you dead in the eyes and confessing to you.

now you were more confused than ever.

the serious look on xiao's face indicated he was being dead serious but you just couldn't wrap your head around it, and upon seeing the still evident confusion on your face, xiao followed up by insisting he wasn't joking.

all you could do was slightly shy away and ask for some time to think, which he greatly understood.

kazuha ★↷

kazuha always couldn't help but stare at you with pure awe.

he never really could pinpoint the exact moment his heart started skipping beats whenever he looked at you, he just knew that it had been a while since it started. although kazuha didn't quite understand why he had such troubles actually articulating those feelings.

which eventually, as those feelings grew stronger, would be translated into kazuha trying to find the words to eventually convey to you by writing them into forms of haikus.

while he wouldn't exactly consider himself the best at writing them, he found it a good way to figure out his feelings until he confessed to you. but unbeknownst to either of you, his confession would become quite rushed and unplanned based on the sole happening of you accidentally discovering such haikus.

at first, as you scanned through the countless papers you were beyond confused. all these well written haikus that had your name written on as the recipient, as if he was planning on giving them to you, you really didn't know what to make of them.

were they sincere or some product of some sick joke?

unfortunately you were more inclined to believe the latter due to your last experience with anything even remotely similar.

but before your thoughts could think anything else up, kazuha found you. immediately he was flushed with embarrassment at you finding all the haikus he'd written with the intention of never letting them see the light of day.

although as he noticed how you looked confused he thought he should bite back his embarrassment and maybe tell you what it was all about and why - although that only seemed to visibly confuse you even more.

you knew kazuha wasn't the type to make silly jokes like that, playing on someone's feelings and such, but you couldn't help but stray to those thoughts.

kazuha picked up on how your confusion quickly morphed into something more akin to awkwardness and a bit of suspicion - as if you were considering his words to be fabrication.

without thinking, kazuha took the haikus from your hand and held your hand in turn, looking directly at you with the same adorement he always did, before declaring he liked you.

while you weren't exactly going to believe his words so easily, by no fault of your own, kazuha was willing to wait and reassure you for as long as it took.

heizou ★↷

heizou had known he'd had a crush on you for a long time, too long for his liking.

as soon as he'd realised, he began making it into a common occurrence for him to make rather casual flirty remarks which were always brushed off by you as his friendly chatter or just how he normally was - namely as you only really caught him interacting with others for work or with his other friends so it never really was considered anything else.

heizou also didn't register that you took it that way. not at least until he started being more direct.

it wasn't like he was getting weary of you or anything even remotely like that, he just longed for you to finally be his lover. so when he became more direct with his flirting and it was yet again brushed off with you, he couldn't help but become slightly dejected.

heizou would eventually come to confess outright when he knew his subtle attempts were brushed off as nothing serious or meaningful. but that confused you.

initially, you took it as one of the usual occurrences and brushed it off as nothing more but when you watched heizou get more serious and say he liked you again, you gave him an awkward look and insisted he didn't take his jokes that far since it could be misinterpreted.

you could swear you saw heizou pout for a moment.

he groaned that you weren't getting it and you only dismissed him, yet again reminding him that he shouldn't take things so far even as a joke.

but heizou was going to make sure that you would understand, he would grab you by the shoulders, and as seriously as he could, he would tell you over and over how much he liked you and how much it wasn't a joke.

you were left in quite a state of shock. you truly couldn't fathom the idea of heizou liking you seriously, but if you knew one thing, heizou was sure not to give up until he made sure he got his point across.

[rottenk1sses]

craving something with a stalker/obsessive reader who perchance doesn’t go outside, doesn’t go to Stanford but manages to show up everywhere on campus, perhaps with Art…perhaps…he catches them in his dorm inhaling his gross, sweaty boxers <333

I’m just saying if I had that chance I’d take it

cw (18+) : reader being obsessive, stalker behavior, boxer sniffing/unintentional scent kink(?)

you rarely leave your place, let alone are particularly enthralled tennis, but there was something so compelling about that mop of blonde curls and that pretty, boyish smile that kept popping up all over social media.

there was an erotic sort of dance to each of his movements on the court—his body tensing and shaking and sweating and beating with every swing of his racket and step of his feet. you became ensnared in his appeal. like a rabbit with its foot caught in a trap; you couldn’t really be blamed, could you? it was him who started it.

so you began slipping your way into the cracks of his life.

following people on social media that he followed, liking their posts, noting the places that he was tagged as being at and individuals he was tagged as associating with, journeying frequently to campus in hopes of catching sight of him.

one thing lead to another, the days went by, and you eventually had his schedule memorized. leaving his dorm by 9:30 AM for classes, lunch at the cafe on campus after his first lecture (usually with patrick zweig) (12:45 PM), more classes, training/practice with the college tennis team at the outdoor courts—only when it’s warm enough (otherwise he’ll go to the indoor ones), dinner at the dining hall, and then back to his place by 9:15 PM. it was easy to track him, he wasn’t necessarily super self-aware. he looked so pretty when he was blissfully strolling the sidewalks around town, tucking strands of his golden hair behind his ear like he was some shy teenage girl in a romcom. he was just so lovely..

so you used his schedule. you broke into his dorm when he was out for dinner and shoved your hands deep into his laundry basket. you ground your clothed arousal into the carpet, pulling out a pair of his boxers and shoving the crotch into your nose—inhaling his musk and the smell of something akin to a wet-dream. sticky and primal and dirty and clotted with sweetness. “fuck,” you’d murmured, resisting the urge to lick a stripe over the fabric, your other hand down the front of your bottoms, rubbing and pawing at your ache, “oh, art.. fucking god, you smell so—“

but it ended quicker than you’d have liked. it was only 8:34 PM when the jingling of his keys rang through your ears. you were supposed to have been allowed more time than only a few minutes to indulge your sick mind, but he came back early for unexplained reasons. there was nowhere for you to hide; no vacant closet, no elevated bed, nothing. he was inside before you even had time to pull the bunched underwear from your face and your fingers out from inside you.

the look on his face when he froze up in his own doorway was something so captivating—flushed cheeks and parted lips and wide eyes. his gaze fell to your hunched body on the floor and his briefs in your clutches. he swallowed around a broken yelp. bit down on the inside of his cheek as his chin wobbled.

and, truthfully, it might have been easier to get over him back then if he hadn’t obviously started to get hard the moment he processed what was going on. you’d watched the look of shock on his face morph into embarrassment as the front of his joggers twitched and shifted. it was like there was a swell of piercing cognitive dissonance rising in his gut, giving him an erection when he knew he should have been afraid or nervous—you weren’t sure what about the situation got him so suddenly worked up.

maybe he was just as sick as you, you’d thought back in that moment.

he’d proved it himself when he closed the door behind him, trapping you in there, when the natural response would have been to call campus security and berate you for your conduct. he’d closed the door, fell down to your level with buckling knees, and whispered one disturbingly perfect phrase:

“i won’t tell anyone if you let me touch you.”

[windsofcourage]

YEAH . OKAY . HE GOT THE HINT . so it WAS something like a game . link cocked his head to one side as the guy explained , nodding - albeit haltingly - as he finished . memories flit through his mind , of chasing fairy lights around dilapidated wells and sunken rubble ; following a trail of flowers down a sloped hill or to a mountain peak . nobody else in hyrule seemed to be able to see the koroks , though . and this whole venue seemed more CONTAINED . orderly , despite its innate pandemonium .

" wanna play a round ? "

LINK'S DEADPAN DISSIPATED . then , he nodded . sure , why not ?

❝ like tag . avoid the lights . sounds simple enough . ❞ if not a little confusing as to where the light show came in . ❝ . . . but a practice round wouldn't be a bad idea . lead the way , uh . . . ? ❞

Huh, weird guy. Now that's not the kind of getup you see every day, but given his own rebellious preferences for the overtly showy and risky flamboyant as a Phantom Thief, he can't exactly knock some stranger down a peg for it. Pointy ears too... looks elven. After slotting his laser gun back into its rightful holster near the exit of the tag arena, he can't help staring into the intense blue of the other's eyes from behind the deliberate shade of his glasses. Oops, almost forgot. He was asking him something, right?

Ah... His attention finally turns towards said lights when questioned about them. So that's what has him waving his hands around like a madman. Either he's an extreme cosplayer or just really new at this. Gotta start somewhere. Too bad Futaba isn't here to see him or she'd probably freak. Anyway.

"So pretty. Much shiny. ... they're just lights. They won't hurt you, although the point of the game is to not get tagged by them. Hence laser tag. Wanna play a round? I don't mind doing a one-on-one if you need pointers."

[ilium-ilia]

In Limbo

simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader | mafia!au | masterlist

Chapter Eighteen: incoming call

tw: none

Your phone is ringing. 

You almost don’t hear it. With the speakers on the TV cranked up loud enough so you can hear the documentary, (Simon tried to put the captions on for you so you could also enjoy the show, but the latency between your eyes and ears made your head throb) it drowns in the mess of noise in the living room. It takes the flashing screen to get your attention. Unsticking yourself to Simon’s side—a place you always seem to be these days—you lean forward on the couch as your arm extends toward the coffee table. 

Buzz buzz! Buzz buzz! 

It vibrates so fiercely that it dances on the table before you, and when you take it into your hands, it rattles your bones. It trembles in your palm like a creature being held by its creator—its destroyer. 

Incoming Call from Captain Jack Sparrow

“It’s Row,” you say, mostly to yourself. Part of you is surprised it’s not Bee again, who has been calling you incessantly ever since you took your unofficial break from Sapori. 

Simon hums in response as he reaches for the remote and mutes the TV. Your thumb hovers over the answer button, but an unexplainable trepidation wreaks havoc on your heart. Still, you answer. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey! Chip, I… Did I wake you?” Aelin’s voice croaks on the other end of the line, stiff and still shaking off the morning fog. 

Brows narrowing, you shake your head. “No, I’ve been awake. Just… watching TV. What’s up?” 

“Nothing.” Her reply is quick. Too quick, and sharp enough that you know you shouldn’t push unless you’re ready to bleed. “I just wanted to call. Check in, all that stuff. John and I got back home the other week and I miss you.” 

Leaning back, you situate yourself against Simon’s side once more. Over the last few days, you’ve been so caught up in your own life. The mess of your apartment that Simon squared away, Marco, your kiss with Simon and the subsequent ones after that… you nearly forgot all about Aelin and John’s trip. The Maldives, right? That sounds correct. Someplace more temperate than England this time of year. 

“Right, your trip. How was it?” 

“It was great. Wonderful, really. John got a bit more sun than he should have, though. You should’ve seen him, he looked ridiculous. Bright red like a lobster,” Aelin humors. 

Somewhere in the background of the call, you can make out John’s voice. Static overtakes his words, but whatever he says gets Aelin laughing. The sound of her titter is contagious enough that it gets you giggling, but you stop when you feel the tension in her voice. 

There’s something empty about her words, as if you’re only hearing the echo of her voice instead of it emanating from the source. Sniffles break through the line every now and then, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say she was crying. Every now and then she quietly chokes on the tail end of a word when it forces her to use the back of her throat. 

“Are you feeling alright?” The question leaves your lips before the realization completely forms in your mind. When she doesn’t respond right away, instead of letting the silence sit, you fill it with a half formed explanation. “Sorry, I just—well—you sounded a little congested, I guess.” 

More silence follows, and for a fleeting moment you’ve convinced yourself you’ve said something wrong. Something out of turn. Then, there’s a long draw of breath. 

“Oh, you know. Just… one of those days,” Aelin says. 

Her words ignite a memory that begins to flicker as a lone flame in some forgotten corner of your mind. Shoved back into your sixteen year old body, you find Aelin on the kitchen floor in her mother’s house. Hair undone, back against the cabinets, her fist chokes the neck of a beer bottle as her feet tap against the tile. She’s an adult, but this is her childhood home. You’re the stranger here, and she apologizes to you for the mess. 

When you ask her what’s wrong, she only shrugs. 

Just one of those days. 

It’s a stupid question to ask. Her dad has been dead for only a week. 

She doesn’t invite you to sit next to her, but you do anyway. Just far away enough that you don’t touch, yet still close enough to feel the feverish warmth of her intoxication. You don’t say anything, but she talks about everything. Voice tense, body loose; every time she starts to cry she drinks until the tears are burned away. 

Tell me about him, you say. 

And she does. She does. 

“Do you want to come over? To mine and John’s?” Aelin asks, pulling you out of your anamneses. “I could come pick you up so you don’t have to take the bus. We could watch a movie or something.” 

The smile on your lips bleeds into the tone of your words. “A movie sounds great. And don’t worry about it, I can have Simon take me.” 

Simon’s ears visibly perk like a dog that heard the word treat. His body shifts, arm falling around your shoulders and pulling you closer, but he doesn’t speak. 

“Oh?” Aelin’s voice quirks the way it always does when she teases you. A broiling heat tingles in the tips of your ears as the realization settles in; you talk so easily about Simon now. As if he’s always been in your life—like you’ve never felt any other comfort besides him. There’s been a missing chunk of your skin, and he’s filled it so perfectly with the shape of his body. “You’ll have to tell me all about that, too.” 

With plans created, you bid each other goodbye, and when the call ends, you’re stuck staring at your phone screen. 

7th of January

Well past the day you were supposed to pay your late fee to Marco. 

It’s today. It’s—

“I take it we’re headed to the Price’s?” Simon asks. 

Shutting your phone off, you nod. “Row wants to have a girls day in.” Setting your phone to the side, you look at Simon who’s staring at you with tightly pressed lips. “What?” 

“Don’t like the thought of you goin’ anywhere without me,” he admits. He thinks on his words for a moment and feels the odd weight on his tongue and the sour implication, then explains further. “Not while all this shit with Marco is happening.” 

“I won’t be going without you. You’ll be the one driving me,” you retort. “You really think Marco would do anything at Aelin’s house? At John’s house?” 

Mulling it over, you see the way Simon’s teeth chew on the inside of his lip. “Alright.” 

During the drive to Aelin’s, Simon holds your hand like it’s the last time he’ll ever see you. Fingers interlaced with yours, your knuckles begin to ache at how wide you have to spread them to accommodate the width of each digit. Eventually, they begin to hurt so bad you have to settle with him holding you princess style, and even then his thumb traces the dips and peaks of your knuckles as he memorises each curve. 

Things have changed between you and Simon, and it’s more than just in the superficial circumstances in which your lives have become intertwined. He’s sparked something inside of you. This entire time he’s known you, he’s been watering a grave and something has finally begun to sprout out of the stone. Something’s growing—something you swore was long dead. 

His touch is the first touch that does not make your skin crawl—that does not smell like blood. His lips are the first to press against yours that do not maim, and now that you have a taste for it, you’re not sure you can ever live without it. 

Aelin’s house comes into view and you’re suddenly plagued with an odd apprehension. It’s a strange and vicious penitence that begins to slither around your heart before constricting tight enough to evoke a wicked jolt of pain. By the time Simon parks next to the curb, you feel every molecule of air leave your lungs. 

“I won’t be far,” Simon tells you as he squeezes your hand. 

“Plan on staking out at the park?” you tease. 

“I might,” he deadpans. 

Simon’s hesitancy is palpable. His fingers feel so tight against your own that you think you’ll have to pry yourself out of his grasp just to leave. Dark eyes scan your face as you look at him with a small but reassuring smile, but not even that offers him comfort. 

“I’ll just be a text away,” he continues. 

“Si,” you laugh. “It’s gonna be fine. I’m gonna be fine. Besides your house, this is the next safest place to be.” 

When he still doesn’t seem convinced—staring at you with firm eyes and a clenching jaw—you find yourself leaning over the center console. Falling into the gravity of him, your lips find his just as easily as if you were taking the path back home. Eyes fluttering shut, somehow this union is able to quell the squeezing in your chest. He is warm like fire, and you can taste the pepper he used to season his eggs for breakfast. 

His free hand cups your face just as you pull away. “I… Call me when you’re ready.” 

Aelin answers the door not even three seconds after you knock. Fresh popcorn wafts around the entryway as she greets you with a tired smile and glossy lips. Red traces the delicate line of her eyes, making the aqua hue of her iris pop. Stray tears seem to linger along her waterline, but you make no mention of it as she ushers you inside before the bitter cold steals too much of your warmth. 

Blankets and pillows obscure the couch in the living room, and you nearly gawk at the obscene amount of food laid out on the coffee table. Two large bowls of popcorn, various bags of small candies—Jelly Babies, Maltesers, Imperial Mints, among others—and of course, refreshments. When she had mentioned wanting to watch a movie together, you hadn’t imagined anything like this. 

“John may have gone a little overboard with the treats. He’s left the house to just the two of us,” Aelin chuckles as she begins to fight through the nest that’s been made of her couch. Clearing a few of the blankets to the side, she sits and then pats the spot next to her. “Come on, grab a seat then.” 

With a plush blanket tossed over your lap, and a comically large bowl of buttered popcorn nestled against your hip, you and Aelin settle down for the movie. It’s some chick flick you’ve never heard of, but you end up not paying attention to most of the plot. Not even five minutes into the film, Aelin twists her body so she’s facing you with a grin. 

“So… tell me about Christmas with Riley.” 

Really, you should have expected this. She’s been trying to get the two of you together since October, of course she would be curious. 

October. That’s how long you’ve known him? Only that long? That doesn’t seem right. Your body aches and sings as if you’ve known him your entire life. 

Still, you tell her everything, and you make sure not to skimp out on any details, lest she attempt to fill in any of the blanks for herself. You tell her about the quiet drive to Manchester, and how loving his family is. You gush about little Joseph and sweet Mrs. Riley. You talk about the food you ate and the bed you slept in—how polite Simon was through it all—how he enveloped you in his arms when the world started to feel too small. 

You don’t stop there. You lament about how he comforted you when you came home to find your apartment a mess—weaving in a little white lie about how it was wracked with water damage from a burst pipe while you were gone—and how he’s been letting you stay with him. How he insists on you sleeping in his bed. And—

“Seriously?”

—the kiss. 

“I dunno, it just sort of… happened,” you admit sheepishly. 

“In his bed?” Aelin confirms. 

You nod. “We had just woken up.” 

“And then?” she asks, tone leading you on. 

“What?”

“What happened after that?” She asks her question like there should be something more—some vivid details you’re meant to share. 

You blink. “Well, then he asked me if I wanted breakfast.” 

Aelin’s lips turn into a small pout. Not anything patronizing, but rather in the way you look at a child when they say something sweet—something innocent. 

“Oh, Chip. I’m so happy for you,” she says, head leaning back against the couch. The more you talk, the more the red in her eyes seems to soften to a dull pink, and the less she sniffles. “I’m just… so glad you found someone.” 

For your girls day in, you and Aelin end up watching two movies back to back; both being less than subpar romance comedies. Each time the male lead does something stupid, she always throws in her two cents about what to do if Simon does that to you, which leaves you rolling your eyes. Then, of course, there are the obligatory and awkward sex education courses she gives you during anything remotely lewd. 

“That’s not how that works!” Aelin huffs as her teeth crunch into more popcorn. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, poking at the kernels in your bowl. 

“She was magically wet enough for him to just slide in? Like that? No foreplay, just kissing? Yeah fucking right.” She playfully tosses a small bit of popcorn at you from across the couch. “If Simon ever tries that shit, you blue ball him, okay?” 

After a few hours, when the sun begins to scrape along the horizon, both you and Aelin begin to yawn. John returns from whatever escapade he set off to do, arms and hands occupied with bags from various stores around the city. He smiles and greets you the same way he always does before waving at his wife to keep seated—mutters something about how he can put the groceries away himself. 

Of course Aelin doesn’t listen. One thing leads to another and the three of you are in the kitchen weaving around one another and storing items. It’s a strange feeling, assisting them with such a task. There was a time where you once lived in this house; where you once did these very same tasks with them. They took you in shortly after you had graduated since you hadn’t secured an apartment of your own. John and Aelin were freshly married—after a brutal broken engagement due to Aelin’s previous fiance cheating on her—and still they treated you like you were no bother to them. 

When they convince you to stay for dinner, it’s as if nothing’s changed at all. Everyone cooks together. Cleans together. Eats together. Your spot at their table is still the same as it always is. 

Ever since your parents died, your family was shattered, but you manage to find their fragments in others. Here, with John and Aelin. Sometimes with her mother. Now, in Simon’s family. 

As you look down at your phone to check the time, the date shines brightly at you. 

7th of January

You wonder if Aelin feels the same. With her family shattered; with losing a part of herself in her father. Your first ever meeting was at his funeral. You were both dressed in black, both sporting the same irritated eyes. Sean had told you so much about her, and instead of greeting her yourself, you hid from her. Tucked yourself away in some corner of the funeral home, unable to bear the weight of facing the daughter of the man whose death you caused. 

She found you anyway, of course. 

She always does. 

When eight o’clock rolls around, and you feel like you’ve thoroughly stayed your welcome, you give Simon a call. Aelin pretends to be occupied with something else as she clears the table, but you can see her slow, deliberate movements and the way her eyes keep flickering over to you. 

“Is everythin’ alright?” It’s the first thing that spews over the speaker. Worried about you as always, your Simon Riley. 

“You’re silly,” you giggle. “We’re just about wrapped up here if you wanna come pick me up.”

“On my way.” 

He knocks five minutes later. It’s such a short amount of time considering how long ago you called him, and it even catches John’s attention. It’s quickly brushed aside as Aelin swaddles you in a hug. Arms locked tight against you, you fear she plans to keep you forever, locked away where the world can’t see you. She whispers a quiet thanks into your ear before releasing you, allowing you to return back to Simon. 

The ride back to Simon’s house is surprisingly quiet, but he seems less anxious than he did when he dropped you off. Hand carefully absorbing your own into his, he lets the radio drone on for a little while until traffic begins to pick up in the city. Incandescent lights brighten the shadows of the street, smothering the stars that would otherwise be in the sky. Everything is bitterly grey and cold. 

“How was your visit?” he asks as his thumb taps against the back of your hand. 

You lean back against the headrest as the vibrations of the road cloak your body. “It was good. I think… I think Aelin really needed it.” 

“Yeah?” he prompts. 

“Yeah. I dunno, she seemed like she’d been crying. I don’t know what about but… Sorry, I don’t know. Just a weird feeling, I guess.” 

For a moment, Simon doesn’t say anything. Despite the crowd of cars around you, everything is oddly arcadian. No sound makes it to your ears—only the beating of your own heart. 

“She called John the other night while we were all at Terminus working. Couldn’t really hear much, but she was cryin’ about something,” he informs. “Might be goin’ through some sort of rough patch.” 

“Yeah just having… one of those days,” you echo. 

You’re in the kitchen again. On the floor. Aelin is talking about her dad. She smells like beer and roses. She’s recalling the story about how Sean obtained a scar on the side of his elbow—an accident while teaching her to ride a bike as a kid—and all you can think about is the wound in his stomach. Fighting the queasiness that grips your gut, you stare at the floor. 

Linoleum. 

For a moment—a single, fleeting moment—you think about telling her about the way you were picked apart in front of your mother’s body. Maybe if you show your wounds, it would make her feel better. Ultimately, you decide against it. Your wounds don’t make her father any less dead. 

Your wounds don’t make it any less your fault. 

“What’s on your mind, baby?” 

Nothing good. 

“The anniversary of her dad’s death is today.” Saying it out loud feels like an admission. Some avowal of your guilt in the fact that he no longer draws breath—and now each one you draw stings. “I keep thinking about telling her. I wanna tell her about everything. I do all the time. There’s not a single moment when I’m around her that I don’t think of just… you know? But I can’t.” 

Simon hums, thinking for a short moment. “Why not?”

“Because she’d hate me.” 

“She wouldn’t hate you.” His answer comes just as quick as yours, sharp and unfaltering. When you don’t respond, he continues. “She wouldn’t. That wasn’t your fault.” 

“But it is my fault,” you mutter. 

“It’s not,” he interjects firmly.

“If I had just lied like they told me to, he would still be alive,” you retort. 

“And if Marco hadn’t threatened you, you never would have had to worry about it. Just like you wouldn’t have had to worry about it if Marco hadn’t killed your mum, which never would have happened if your dad hadn’t aligned himself with Makarov. And I’m sure something else forced his hand to make him involve himself in that mess.��� Simon pauses, eyes straying away from the road for a split second to look at you. All you can do is stare at your lap. “Actions and reactions, sweetheart. That’s all life is.” 

A rigid obloquy slithers around your stomach until it has your intestines weaved into knots. You are stuck at the intersection where shame and guilt meet grief. It exists all at once inside of you; coalesces in a heaping mass in the cavern of your chest. There is a desperate want—a pitiful plea—for your contriteness to cleanse you. 

All it does is remind you that you will be forever sullied. 

“You did what you needed to do to keep yourself alive. That was a reaction, not an action,” Simon continues. “Everyone thinks that they could’ve changed their pasts if they just tried hard enough, but that’s not how that works. Sometimes, things just are the way they are.” 

There are several flaws in the lesson he tries to teach you, none of which you bother to point out. Things would have gone much better had you thought about someone other than yourself during the moment Marco made his offer to you. You could have taken that deal. Halved your debt and ran off with him to do whatever he wanted to do. Your parents would still be dead—broken fingers, slashed stomach and all—but Aelin would have had a perfect life. 

Not that you would have been around to see it, but you think you could have shouldered all that if you had known at the time. 

“I know you don’t believe me,” he says softly. “That’s alright. We’ll work on it.” 

You nod just as silent tears begin to fall, and you use your free hand to wipe them away. It’s frustrating, being as weepy as you are. You think back to the laundromat when Marco kissed you, and how he cooed at your sorrow as if it were some sweet delight just for him. He told you not to cry, but you could still see the enjoyment lurking in the mossy shade of his eyes. 

This anguish would smother you if it weren’t for Simon. He does not whisper at you to keep quiet, or demand that you make your sadness bite sized and easy to swallow. Wordless, he raises your hand up to his lips where he kisses your knuckles as if there’s some sort of physical wound for him to mend. You don’t know if it’s because of his care, or because of something else, but it helps. Your heart quells, as do your tears, and he lowers your hand yet still refuses to let go. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

“Course.” 

He replies like it’s obvious. Like his help shouldn’t even be thanked—it’s a fact. Something he yearns to give. 

Things fall quiet again as the car weaves through traffic, but Simon’s presence is loud. The way he squeezes your fingers. The heat of his palm against yours. Despite the tears that danced on your cheeks just moments earlier, you smile as you allow yourself to melt into him. 

He’s right. You don’t believe him. But you think that you’d like to someday.

follow @mother-ilia to be notified of updates get early access to chapters here

[jinnie-ret]

poison

lee know x fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst

content warnings: none

word count: 2k

summary: minho is crazy over you, as much as he'd hate to admit it, but you won't even bat an eyelid

requested by: @keen-li

1K FOLLOWERS PLAYLIST 💚🖤 MAIN MASTERLIST

Although it was rare that Minho was able to spend time with you, there was something about you that entranced him. That was scary to him. He was shy about voicing these types of feelings and what was even more frightening was that he was slowly beginning to realise he couldn't hide away. Impulsive thoughts would spring to mind and he'd have to bury them before they reached the surface yet again. They were the type of thoughts that told him to shout from the rooftops, exposing the seemingly unexplained feelings he had for you. At least if he did that, maybe you'd bat an eyelid at him.

It felt unrealistic. Minho had barely spoken to you and you had this hold over him. At the very least, he could admire you from afar across the dance studio. The two of you, with other troupe members of course, were part of a group called Cupcakes. Despite its cute demeanor, it only offered more charm to the various genres you could perform as a group.

Minho had already been offered a solo performance, which he gratuitously accepted. He had the freedom to choreograph this one on his own so long as he kept to the theme of the whole dance showcase: poison. As well as a group number, his solo and other performances, there was a duet that their instructors had just shown them. It was smooth, sultry and had this push and pull storyline, perfectly summarising how he felt about you.

"And for our duet performance we'll have our top two students, Minho and..." the head instructor announced, some of the other dancers around clapping and others slightly disappointed. Minho, on the other hand, was a huge mix of ecstatic and incredibly nervous, knowing he'd be performing the duet with you.

"Guess it's you and me?" you walked up to him wearing a small smile on your face. You hadn't really interacted with Minho a lot. Something about him... didn't intimidate you as such, but you didn't want to say the wrong thing because you weren't all too sure on his personality and how he might react.

"Yeah," Minho nodded back, straightening out the sleeves of his hoodie and not able to make eye contact as of yet. He could admire from afar, yes, but up close was a whole different ball park.

“This is going to be our big ending performance, so I expect great things from the two of you as always,” the head instructor spoke, a hint of a smile on their face.

—

A video of what the choreography looked like had already been prepared for the two of you, the instructors trusting the two of you being quick learners to basically get on with it and pick up the steps. With pride in the trust that had been given to both of you, the two of you sat together on the wooden floor of a separate room, an iPad playing the video.

“Woah… this is kinda a more sexier vibe, right?” you nod along to the song, already grooving to the vibe of it as you turn to glance at Minho.

“Yeah, it’s… yeah,” Minho kept his eyes fixed on the screen, watching as two bodies intertwined, wrapped around each other with slow extensions of arms and legs grazing against each other, almost teasingly. You thought he was being nonchalant yet had you noticed the reddening of the tips of his ears, you would have realised he was simply feeling a bit shy.

“Right, let’s get started!” you stood enthusiastically, an excited grin on your face as you connect your phone to the speaker to play the song ‘Poison’ by Brent Faiyaz. Of course the grand performance at the end of the show would have the same name as the overall theme.

The responsibility began to weigh heavier upon Minho’s shoulders, but instead of letting it drag him down, he allowed the tension in his body to melt away at the sight of your bubbly demeanour. This girl, he thought, would certainly do damage. To his heart or to his soul, he wasn’t sure yet. He didn’t have time to ponder anyways, before the two of you threw yourselves into getting the basic steps and positioning down. There wasn’t as much conversation or giggling as Minho would have liked for the first time the two of you spent time alone together, but there was some and that was all that mattered to him. Said time allowed him to discover even more of your quirks, whether it was the little grumpy huffs you’d do when a move went wrong or how keen you were on eye contact, constantly seeking his.

When it came to the first review of the two of you dancing together, Minho was disappointed in the feedback you both received. You were frustrated.

“Kids, you've got the choreo down great, but it lacks feeling, emotion. You need the audience hanging onto every second of this performance.”

You grumpily chucked your practice bag on the floor as you and Minho entered the separate room you had already spent hours upon hours in.

“We were perfect! What do they mean it lacks feeling? What more can we do?” you groan, a puff of air leaving you so strongly that it made some stray hairs fly up.

Minho had a lot of feelings, about the feedback, about the dance, but mainly you. Maybe his nerves from being partnered with his crush was restricting him from investing himself emotionally. There must be something he could do to ease his nerves. Maybe over time he would come to feel more relaxed in your presence?

“We'll just practice more-” Minho began.

“The practice wasn't good enough! I don't know why I stay here and do these stupid performances when really it's never enough! I'd be better off elsewhere…” you trailed off.

“I didn’t count you as someone who would give up so easily…” Minho observed quietly, placing his bag down quietly, a great juxtaposition to your previous actions.

“What?” your head shot up.

“I mean, you’re one of the best dancers here. You can’t just step back after one piece of feedback. We’ll just practice more,” Minho reiterated.

“I’m not giving up and I’m not stepping back. I’m facing the facts,” you sigh, clearly frustrated, “they said that it lacked feeling and emotion. We don’t know each other like that, of course it’s not going to be completely connected!”

“Let’s spend more time together then,” Minho blurted out quickly. He regretted it immediately. Not because he didn’t mean it, but because he felt like he had embarrassed himself.

“Minho, you really think that’s going to help?” you looked at him, sat opposite to you.

“It’s worth a try, don’t you think?” Minho shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hide his awkwardness at how bold he was being. Well, how bold he thought he was being.

“Ok. Sure. Let’s try it,” you gave in. It seemed like the best chance you had.

—

Things were taking a turn in a positive direction. You found yourself enjoying Minho’s presence the more and more you got to know him. Exchanging stories over coffee, sharing cat pictures and sending videos across social media late at night had become the norm over the past three weeks. Here the two of you were again, chatting nonsense over iced americanos before the big performance this evening at the recital.

“No, but that photo is too funny!” you burst out laughing as Minho showed you the picture of his high school graduation.

“It’s only because my friend was learning hairdressing!” Minho laughed along, mainly due to your contagious laughter.

“It’s so creepy how you’re holding the mannequin head so casually,” you giggled once more at the photo.

“You should have seen my other options,” Minho smirked mischievously.

“Oh gosh, I don’t want to know,” you waved him off playfully, before you got a text on your phone, “Oh! The instructor just texted, "We've got to head back inside now and get ready for the performance.”

—

“Minho, great job! You really had the right vibe and feeling!”

Minho was ecstatic that his emotions finally came across in the dance he performed with you. For once, he didn’t hold back on how he was feeling towards you and he could funnel any nerves or admiration into a streamlined performance showcasing his skills. It translated extremely well to the audience and the two of you received a standing ovation. He still wished that his feelings translated well to you too but you were too stuck in your perfectionist ways.

“You showed great fluidity but I still think there was something missing. I couldn’t feel what you were feeling and that’s an issue. I expect better from you.”

You thought your feedback was considerably harsher than usual and perhaps your instructor was still feeling stressed with making sure the evening went well. It didn’t make it sting less. The two of you had rehearsed together for many hours and had gotten to know each other like Minho had suggested. In your own mind, you felt yourself much more relaxed in his presence and therefore more connected when dancing together. Why wasn’t your performance good enough? How did Minho do better than you? Why?

Minho struggled to find you amongst the chaos of everyone else in the team roaming around backstage as well as lighting and stage managers. What led him to you was the whispers he heard from your peers.

‘She’s so angry, I don’t think we’ll be seeing her again.’

‘Surely she won’t leave?’

‘The teacher upset her I think.’

There you were, dragging your belongings out of your locker in the corridor that would have been quiet were it not for your light sniffles.

“Thought you didn’t give up so easily?” Minho sighed, leaning against the wall and watching you closely.

“I never said that. You did,” you mumble, back to him as you put on a jacket.

“And I’ll say it again,” Minho began.

“Please don’t.”

“You don’t have to go, you know?” Minho’s brows furrowed. He took a step forward, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“What’s the point in me staying? I’m not an all rounder like you. Somehow I still lacked the feeling, which seems impossible when I was actually really happy with how we both did and the audience reaction too! Then we got our feedback and I really expected it to be positive for both of us. Then it wasn’t,” you rambled, lips trembling between every word.

“We did get positive feedback,” Minho tried to reassure you.

“No, you got positive feedback. Our instructor expected better from me which-”

“Which what? Which means what? You missed out on the good things that were said. If you focus on all that every time you get critiques then it’s not going to take you very far,” Minho lectured you passionately, hating the sight of you putting yourself down when it seemed unwarranted in his eyes.

“Even more reason to leave. If it’s not going to take me far then I might as well go now,” you shook your head in annoyance, again, only hearing the negatives.

“You’re still not listening. Maybe we should book you a hearing test?” Minho joked but his smile faded when you finally faced him with a glare.

“I heard that one.”

“Oh so you are paying attention, hm? Good. Nothing about how you danced was bad! You just need to let loose more. Don’t worry about being perfect, ok? No-one is going to judge you for learning, we all still are,” Minho took a breath before continuing, never breaking eye contact with you, for once, “Put your stuff back, and get out of your own head. You’re giving me a headache with how loud you’re thinking.”

There was a moment of silence that would have been uncomfortable had it gone on for any longer. Minho was worried that the way he poured his heart out had been inappropriate for the moment, until you let out a little laugh and appeared to be less teary.

“Maybe we should send you to be tested instead with your supersonic hearing.”

“There she is,” Minho chuckled, tugging you by your sleeve playfully.

“So you’ll stay?”

“For you, I guess,” you rolled your eyes.

That was all Minho needed to hear. He didn’t need to be in a romantic relationship with you right now to be wholly satisfied. Simply having you around was enough for him right now.

tagged: @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly04 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari @thisrandomgoofy15 @lieslab @hannamoon143 @arumlilyeclipse @katzline @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @kiwihrt @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @his-angell @2minstan @skzoologist @lovingchan @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria

[taetr4ck]

LOVE IN SCRIBBLES — ten things han jisung writes in his love letters for you

han jisung x reader — fluff, teeny bit of angst

a/n: HIIIIII OMG WHAT (this is the first time me writing in ages) t____t nursing school sucked me dry (my brain included) please forgive me… also we finally reached 600 !! thank you so much my pookiebears 🙂‍↕️💗

bang chan / minho / changbin / hyunjin / jisung / felix / seungmin / jeongin

i. Has the world been treating you kindly these days, my love? I hope it has. Because if it hasn’t, I’m still here. You are my world anyway.

ii. I learned that nobody touches me if I look sharp. But you took the risk and told me you’re willing to do whatever it takes— even if it causes you to bleed. But my love, you never bled. Am I that easy to love?

iii. I always cry whenever I think about the time that we will get to the point where we will break up. Not that it will happen, but the thought of it just makes me sick to my stomach.

iv. I am not good with fragile things, but I swear I will love all that you unearth for me—your stinted roots, all the tenderness you’ve long buried.

v. And suddenly, all the songs I write are all about you.

vi. You know, I don’t fantasize or dream about having the perfect life. I just want to wake up happily, seeing the sunrise— and perhaps waking up somewhere safe, just like in your arms. I’m thinking about having a nice kitchen, bedroom, and a nice mini studio decorated by you or me (or us both) so you can still have all of me even though I’m working. I could be anywhere as long you’re by my side.

vii. I once believed love would be black and white, but it’s golden.

viii. It’s time to stop hating yourself for what others did to you, jagiya. It’s not your fault. It was never your fault.

ix. Ever since I started loving you, waking up doesn’t feel heavy anymore. Breathing isn’t as hard as it seemed. My anxiety turned into courage. My what-ifs turned into “I did it”. Working doesn’t drain me that much anymore. I am starting to live for 5 am sunrises and morning coffees. Heck, I don’t eat breakfast— but when you said to me that I should take care of myself more often, I enjoy waking up to sunlight, knowing there is someone who is looking forward to seeing and being with me. Perhaps love is something like a gentle embrace to my tired and weak soul— giving me an unexplainable refresh within. All I yearn for is to belong to something, to be contained with an all-embracing mind that sees me as a single thing and not a fragile glass that has been dropped multiple times, spreading its fragments on the ground. Yet you see me more than that, and I sometimes ever wonder if I even deserve that.

x. Whenever someone asks me what love is, I always say your name.

taglist : @agi-ppangx @ashracha @bluethemoments @wonootnoot @ruskzi @thamihh | taglist form

( jisung layout is from @/i-wolfbit ! )

⋆ taetr4ck, est may 2023.

[callikari]

WHiTE FERRARi — lee heeseung .𖥔 ݁ ˖

SYNOPSIS — "i'm sure we're taller in another dimension, you say we're small and not worth the mention"

PAIRING — bf! lee heeseung x gf!fem reader

GENRE(S) — angst, heartbreak, nostalgia, romance (with a gut wrenching twist) fluff in one scene if u squint ...

WARNING(S) — emotional distress, angst, unresolved feelings, unspoken love, unrequited love, grief, nostalgia, sad/bittersweet ending, emotional PAIN,

WORDCOUNT — 1.7k

the hum of the engine filled the car, but the quiet between you and heeseung was deafening. he drove with the same rhythm as always, but it wasn’t the same. not anymore. the road stretched out before you both, a reminder of how far you’d come—and how far you had left to go, with or without him.

you glanced at him briefly. his face was stiff, like he was holding onto something, or maybe like he was trying to keep himself from falling apart. maybe you were too.

“do you ever think about what we used to be?” you asked softly.

heeseung didn’t respond immediately. his eyes stayed fixed on the road, his hands gripping the wheel. but you knew the answer, and it cut deeper than you wanted it to.

“yeah,” he finally said, his voice quiet.

you took a deep breath. “me too.”

the silence that followed was heavier than before, and in that moment, everything you had avoided hit you full force.

a flash of a memory surfaced in your mind, sharp and clear, a time when you were both happy, when everything felt so simple.

—

it was late one summer evening, just after the sun had dipped behind the horizon. you and heeseung were sitting on the roof of his apartment building, the city lights below flickering like a thousand tiny stars. he had his arm around you, and you had your head resting against his shoulder, watching as the sky bled into darker shades of blue and purple.

“this is nice,” you murmured.

“yeah,” heeseung said, voice soft, content. he turned to you, his lips quirking up at the corners. “it’s just us.”

you looked up at him, your heart swelling with something warm and unexplainable. back then, you thought this was forever.

“just us,” you repeated, and everything felt like it was falling into place.

heeseung looked at you, his gaze gentle, but there was something else in his eyes—a depth you couldn’t quite read. something that felt fragile, like it could slip through your fingers if you weren’t careful.

“i never want to forget this,” he said quietly, his voice serious for the first time.

you smiled, brushing your thumb against his hand. “you won’t. i won’t let you.”

—

the memory faded just as quickly as it had come, leaving only the ache of its absence.

you blinked, the present crashing back into focus. the car, the night, the unspoken words between you and heeseung.

heeseung cleared his throat, his eyes flicking to you for a moment before quickly looking away. “i thought we’d be different,” he said. “i thought we’d find a way back.”

“i thought so too,” you whispered, staring out the window. you wished you could reach out, say something to ease the weight that had settled between you both. but it felt too late for that now.

"we were different back then,” heeseung continued, his voice raw. “i thought… i thought maybe if i let go, if i gave you space, you’d be okay. but i didn’t know how to fix it.”

you let the tears fall then, quietly, no sobs, just a steady stream of hurt you couldn’t hold back anymore. you thought you’d moved past this. thought you could exist in the same room with him without falling apart.

“why didn’t you come back?” you whispered, voice cracking.

heeseung didn’t answer right away. you could feel the hesitation in the way he gripped the wheel. the car slowed as he took a breath.

"i don’t know,” he said finally, voice barely audible. “i thought i lost you the second i let you go. and i couldn’t… i couldn’t fix it. not after everything that happened.”

you turned to look at him then, the tears clouding your vision, but his face was unreadable, like he was trying to hold everything together, trying not to break.

“i was waiting,” you said quietly, voice trembling. “i was waiting for you to come back. to fight for us.”

heeseung’s face twisted, a flash of pain flickering across it. “i know. and i’m sorry.”

but the words were hollow. empty. he wasn’t sorry enough. he hadn’t fought for you when it mattered.

you wiped away the tear that escaped down your cheek and let out a shaky breath. “i’m not the same person anymore, heeseung. i don’t know if i can go back to how we were.”

heeseung’s grip on the wheel tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might say something else, something to make this make sense. but he didn’t.

the rest of the drive passed in silence, and you both stayed locked in your own pain. the road stretched on ahead, but you both knew there was no going back.

AUTHORS NOTE — what came out after listening to white ferrari for the first time in like 10 months.. also lowkey thinking of doing something inspired from that one scene in the notebook where allie was reading the letter in the car !!! idk lmk what u guys think 😛😛

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