#he’s diplomatic and he’s playful

[cometrose]

You ever be like, dang, Zhongli is a Trickster God archetype, even more so than the one people would probably point at first of being a trickster (Venti, who isn’t much of a trickster, but he is a troll).

He lies pretty often, shape shifts and gender shifts, he makes deals that he must always uphold but he can find/make loopholes to do what he wants, he is usually doing tricks harmlessly or for ‘the greater good’ but someone usually loses out in the end and is really bitter about it.

Also most irl trickster gods are craftsman and teachers, and usually give humanity the knowledge to make some super important thing (nets, writing, fire, musical instruments, etc), usually have some sort of protection/home/family side to them, and are usually more directly involved with humanity than other gods.

Like? It’s right there, he just hides it by being polite.

ooh that's so cool I have never thought about it before. While you can argue his intentions are "good" for the most part in the sense he loves liyue more than anything the morality of his methods are debatable.

Like faking his death as a test and the fact that entire liyue archon quest was orchestrated by him. Or his first story quest with those archeologists where he knew they were fake the entire time but still lead them through this long journey and both of them were pretty miserable by the end of it.

But I do agree while venti is playful he has not done anything as mischievous as zhongli does in his free time.

For Zhongli I think he always is trying to teach humanity a lesson or push them forward but he doesn't like doing it directly-he just wants to give them a nudge so they can figure it out themselves. He would rather change into a human and use that as a vessel for change. The thing about tricksters is that they challenge the social norm and often forge a new one and if that doesn't describe the liyue story then what does.

I just reread the "Tales Behind the Fan" it's the quest that comes after the chasm quest with Xiao & Co and in the quest the storyteller wants zhongli's archaic stone that azhdaha gave him and zhongli says in the quest that he would give it to him but ends up convincing him or rather the storyteller convinces himself to give zhongli two hand-painted fans without paying a dime or losing his stone.

Zhongli definitely does whatever he wants and is pretty shameless about using other people to do it. He probably not the most conventional trickster due his polite and gentle-natured personality and so i forgive him! I support his wrongs and rights!

#zhongli #genshin impact #i did some light reading #zhongli is diplomatic and full of charisma #is it his nature as the god of contracts? perhaps #and he lives his life telling half truths and lies! #what a man #interesting i think he fits this archetype #venti is kind of clown and he's playful he is a troll but his actions are not on the same scale as zhongli who goes above and beyond #in the archon quest the traveler asks zhongli where he is spending all this money and he's like 'it's just fatui money its okay' #he does whatever he wants sometimes it’s to help humanity other times himself maybe both #if i was 6000 years old and worshipped most of my existence id do the same thing

[pellucid-constellations]

Of Oblivious Minds (3)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Azriel's POV (it's a warning here), angst

a/n: I am blown away by all of you and your support!! I really love writing for this fandom omg. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy ♡ Let me know what you think!! I'll get the next update up soon!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

~~

Azriel was losing his ever-loving mind. 

A few weeks ago, everything was fine. Not optimal, but fine. 

He knew his mate, and that was more than could be said for most of Prythian. But even more than that, he could love her from afar. He could make small remarks and catch the smiles they would elicit. He could send his shadows after her on her walks home, protecting her even though she had the entire Inner Circle looking out for her wellbeing. He could buy the ridiculously expensive pastries she loved and stock the kitchens with them, listening for the small gasps she let out each time she found them.

He could talk to you, listen to you, love you in his small ways, even if it wasn’t the ways in which he longed for. 

Because it wasn’t the right time yet. You hadn’t felt the bond for yourself. 

So, yes—admittedly, Azriel had not been in the most optimal position with you. But it was leaps and bounds better than the purgatory you were subjecting him to now. 

He mulled over his current reality as he sat opposite to you at the dining table. He had had to snag the seat from Mor, ripping the chair from her hand in an uncharacteristic show of aggression, and you hadn’t so much as looked up from your plate. He would’ve rather fought for the seats beside you, but Rhys and Cassian had been sitting before he even entered the room. So now he fought for your eyes and was too far away to offer any lingering, accidental touches. 

Not that you would reciprocate either. 

You were avoiding him, and Azriel was at his wit's end trying to decipher why. 

His shadows had relayed dismal reports, only whispering the words sad and alone and contemplative into his ears each morning. He could have guessed as much, if the display of emotions he had tried to comfort you through all those days ago told him anything. 

But Gods, did they really tell him nothing, because you hadn’t spoken to him since. 

“—that is certainly something to consider. Y/n, would you be open to the job?” 

“Hm?” you hummed, and Azriel watched as your eyes flickered over to Rhys in one abrupt movement. “Sorry, what?” 

Rhys raised a brow lined with humor, and Azriel realized he hadn’t been listening to the conversation either. “Helion has extended an invitation to the Night Court—for diplomatic relations and all. It’s mostly a weekend stay for show, but he has quite an extensive library. Feyre and I went last time so it would only be fair if—” 

“Yes,” you nodded, the most emotion Azriel had seen on your face in days blooming into a joyous array. “Of course, I would love to go. Are you kidding?” 

Rhys chuckled. “I figured. Helion has been quite eager to get you to come as well. Seemed like the perfect time.” 

Azriel didn’t miss the way the High Lord’s eyes shone with something other than mirth as he looked closer at the scholar… as he inspected your facade the same way Azriel had been for the past week. 

“When can I leave?” 

Something in Azriel scratched to a halt. “She’s to go alone?” 

Feyre offered the spymaster a soft smile from the other side of the table. “If she wishes. Helion’s invitation was open-ended.” 

“Take the vacation, I say,” Mor piped in, wine glass raised in a solitary toast. 

“Or… you could take me,” Cassian grinned beside you, jostling you in a playful grip. 

You sent a scoff his way. “Aren’t you banned?” 

“No, actually. I’m banned from Summer Court, which is completely unrelated.” 

A short laugh trickled from your lips. It wasn’t a full one, not like the ones Azriel was so used to—the ones he basked in—but it was a laugh, nonetheless.

He felt the way his eyes seemed to follow the crescendo of it, his blinks in time with the sweet sound. 

He committed it to memory. 

“Right, well let’s keep you away from neighboring courts as much as possible so we can avoid a repeat of that, okay?” 

Something like a grin fought at the side of Azriel’s mouth at your quip. 

Cassian prattled on. Something about unjust rules or ridiculous high lords—Azriel wasn’t paying attention. He was too caught up in you and the way you were so close to meeting his gaze. 

“Perhaps she shouldn’t go alone,” Azriel spoke up, interrupting his brother’s spiel. You still didn’t look at him, instead turning to catch Rhys’s response. 

“Azriel, I can assure you this is a safe visit,” Rhys offered. He knew. Everyone seemed to know but you. “It’s hardly even business. It’s more of a vacation. I’ve been shoving century-old relics in her face for the past few months. She deserves time to herself, don’t you think?” 

His High Lord was speaking in code. A terrible, frustrating code that really meant, “give her some distance.” 

Azriel had had enough of distance. 

He nodded his head all the same. 

And then, despite all odds, you looked at him. 

You looked at him and it was as if the air had been knocked from his lungs. As if he had been wrung out and stretched thin and every bone in his body forced him to sit up straighter. You were looking at him and Azriel couldn’t conceptualize the way the spectrum in his chest moved so quickly from utter relief to the brink of desolation. 

Because you looked at him as if you were broken. A sad—such a sad—smile graced your face, one he had never had the displeasure of seeing before, and he wanted to wipe it away. He wanted to kiss it from your face with soft touches and reassuring whispers and that was startling for Azriel because he usually kept his overwhelming urge to kiss you at bay. 

“I’ll bring you back a souvenir,” is all you said. Such simple words to accompany an expression that sent him reeling. 

“Thank you,” he replied, with the most sincerity he could muster. 

And then he held your gaze as it became downcast. He craned his neck to catch every last second of your eyes as they turned back down to the table.

It was hours later that Azriel found himself in the townhouse, boots creating an indent in the office carpet. Rhys sat just feet away from him, leaning back against the desk, waiting for the Shadowsinger to erupt. 

“I would like for you to position your spies further into Autumn. I know you have a few that have integrated into the court, but I need more intel on Eris and his plans.” 

“Of course.” 

“You can take out any currently residing in Day. Just for the next week or so. With y/n going, she can report any happenings.” 

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped. “Would that be wise?” 

Rhys stared back at his brother, expression giving nothing away. “Why wouldn’t it be? Do you not trust y/n’s word?” 

Azriel’s wings were taut against his back. In truth, he hadn’t felt relaxed in days. With you leaving, that tension would surely pull him into thin compliance. 

“Obviously I trust her word, Rhysand.” 

“Rhysand? What have I done to earn your grievance?” the High Lord asked, crossing his arms over his chest, still the perfect picture of calm. 

Azriel was a juxtaposition before him as he clenched his hands and replied, “You already know.” 

“Do I know? I’m not sure you’ve been clear or honest with anyone. Y/n especially.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Rhys bent at the elbow and rubbed a restless hand across his jaw. Azriel ignored the movement in favor of holding eye contact with the High Lord. Azriel was being stubborn, he knew that, but there was no other way to be. 

He needed to be consistent and reliable. He needed to be a pillar for his family to lean on, and you were part of that. He wasn’t going to take that away from you—to be selfish and call upon a mating bond you hadn't even been made aware of yet. 

He wasn’t going to squander your friendship in the hopes of something more. 

There was a chance, no matter how much the prospect pained him to consider, that you wouldn’t want the bond. You had never hinted at wanting more with the spymaster, so there was no telling how you might react to the cauldron blessing you with a union. You could reject it, and with it would go your friendship. 

Just the thought sent ice through Azriel’s veins. 

Truth be told, he had never shown you many signs either. When the bond snapped months ago, it had taken time for Azriel to come to terms with the truth. He had ruminated on it amidst many sleepless nights, watched you from a new perspective over many dinners, and contemplated the path that had led him to you. 

And then he had regretted. Cauldron had he regretted. 

The feeling still lingered, a reminder of each woman he had taken to his bed before you. All of the fae that had meant nothing, and even the ones that had boarded on something, he wished he could do away with.

Because you had been privy to them all. He knew you had witnessed a few late-night trysts, and even worse, that you had watched him pine after Mor for a century. It all seemed so frivolous now; it all paled in comparison to you. 

And the absolute worst part of it all is that he knew. 

He knew how easy it would be to fall in love with you from the start, so he pretended not to notice. 

He threw himself into impractical longing and meaningless lovers and he pretended that it didn’t hurt to look at you. 

The bond had only cemented his foolishness. 

He hardly had a chance with you by the time it snapped. 

“Late night then, Az?” 

You had teased him over breakfast just days before the bond had snapped for him, a small smile on your face as you lounged at the table early in the morning. At the time, Azriel had bit the inside of his cheek and reeled in his snarkiness. He had avoided your gaze, avoided the robe that barely covered your nightgown, and made himself toast in silence. He had already coaxed the blonde fae out of his bed, and he hadn’t needed a reminder of the woman he had been imagining all throughout the night. 

Because that had been something else he opted to ignore—that he pictured you, imagined you, at all times. 

It snapped three days later. He had been accompanying you through Velaris. “Shopping for fun,” you had said, “and I hate to go alone.”

The only thing Azriel had taken home that day was a gaping hole in his chest and the knowledge that lying to himself had brought him nothing but pain. 

The months following were different. 

Everything was different. 

But for you, he had come to the grim realization, nothing was different at all. He was still Azriel, your friend Azriel, who was secretive and private and cared from afar. You still pictured him as a man who chose his lovers based on convenience and quick practicality even though he hadn’t so much as looked at another woman since your emotions began flowing through his chest. 

Gods, your emotions. They were so positive, so addicting, he could sit back and live his days through you until the end of time. You had so much unrestricted joy coursing through you—so much curiosity and delight. Part of Azriel dreaded the day you did recognize the bond; it would dim the connection to you.

That day in the library had been the first time the bond had chafed against his lungs. He had felt the earthquake beneath his feet and thought nothing of it, but then your fear punctured his being and he had run so fast his wings ached. 

And then you started having nightmares, ones he couldn’t fix, and Azriel began to feel like he was losing you. Like the bond was withering and eroding within him and you along with it. 

“How long, Azriel?” Rhys’s voice cut through the air with a harshness. 

The shadowsinger breathed through his nose, jaw tight. 

“Tell me. Tell me how long you’re going to keep this up for.” 

“You don’t understand, Rhys,” came Azriel’s low reply. “None of you do.” 

The High Lord scoffed. “Right, because I had it so easy with Feyre. Az, mates are complicated—” 

“Don’t,” Azriel breathed. A dangerous shakiness accompanied the word.

“Explain it to me. Help me to understand how—” 

“There was nothing for you to lose!” The rise of the shadowsinger’s voice sent Rhys into silence. “There was nothing! You hadn’t known Feyre for three centuries—hadn’t known what it was like to see her cry over worthless males or laugh until she was doubled over. You didn’t have time to memorize the sound of her voice or understand how it felt to lose that small piece of her. Because she won’t even talk to me anymore and—” 

Azriel cut himself off, moving for the first time since he entered office. He paced, the motion of his feet doing little to dispel the tension from the air or from his body. Azriel tugged a hand through his hair, his shadows following the aggressive pull and weaving through the strands. 

“How long?” Rhys asked again, but this time, Azriel knew that he was asking a different question. One that even he himself had avoided answering. 

The shadowsinger paused. His next words were tainted and his voice cracked. 

“I think forever.”

Part 4

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel angst

[cambion-companion]

A Marriage Contract

Eyo...I had an idea LOL what a world!

The scenario of Raphael x reader (gn) being forced into some sort of marriage agreement has been bugging me ALL day! Hopefully some of you lovely folks are as depraved as I am and enjoy this!

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”  

You were sitting opposite Raphael, the firelight flickering orange across his scarlet visage. You watched with bemused interest as, with a black quill, he scratched ink across a sheaf of yellowed parchment.

The cambion took little heed to your agitated words. His posture was relaxed, one long leg stretched out between your own, his tail tapping idly against your thigh where it rested.

“Raphael.”  You leaned forward, catching a glimpse of the words he now wrote in that elegant script of his. “…Hey, I did not agree to doing that every day with you.”

A peeved hiss escaped Raphael’s sharp teeth as he removed quill from paper and sat back, his yellow eyes finally moving to your tense face. “This arrangement is at the behest of one I cannot yet deny.” His long fingers drummed a pattern against the cherrywood table. “Don’t complain too much, pet.  I may begin to think you’re getting cold feet.”

“Not in this sweltering house.”  You quipped back.  Then you pointed again to the sentence he’d scrawled detailing what lurid acts he expected from you. “I will not be doing that.”

“Might I remind you, this is a contract of marriage.”  

“Believe me, I am well aware.”

“You would receive such pleasures in kind.”

This gave you pause, your brow arched in disbelief. “From you?”

Raphael chuckled dryly. “Yes, from me.  Master of the House, your doting husband.”

Your skin prickled. “There’d better be a clause in there for an annulment once all this is over.”

“It’s possible for such a loophole to be penned in.”  Raphael tilted his horned head diplomatically, though his eyes remained hard. “For you to take advantage of should the fires burn too hot.  However, you will always be mine.”

“How romantic.”  You deadpanned.

“I certainly try.”  Raphael rolled his broad shoulders and stretched his neck side to side.  “Now, shall I rescind these latest conditions or are you now more amenable?”

You hesitated, scooting your chair closer so you could better read the script without getting a crick in your neck. “Hmm…yes, alright. You can get rid of the ‘submits to my will in all infernal matters’ bit.”

With a smooth motion Raphael struck a line through the offending words. “Would ‘heeds my counsel in all the doings of my domain’ better suit your tender palate?”

“Rewording the same sentiment isn’t going to get passed me, love.”  You kissed his cheek, teasing.

Sharp claws pierced the flesh of your jaw as, quick as a viper, Raphael grabbed your face with one hand and held you very still.  His face turned and your noses brushed. You felt his warm breath and his hot skin.

The air between the two of you grew tense, riddled with the frustration at your situation and the desire you’d had for one another since meeting. The lust to dominate and own from him and your need to be wanted and no longer alone.

“This marriage contract is forever binding, little mouse. Much more so than those fragile slips of paper from your insipid mortal world. There is not a clause in your wildest imaginings that will free you from me once you sign yourself over.”

You felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks, his strong hand still holding your head firmly. “We have little choice.”

Raphael’s grip tightened and he brought his lips against yours, just enough to leave you craving more. “What a quaint notion, to believe I have no power to deny or evade.”

He did not elaborate, but his message was clear.  Raphael wanted this. The thought didn’t leave you feeling warm and fuzzy.

There was an evident dynamic here that you didn’t have the capacity to fully understand.  It gave you a sense of dread yet sent a thrill through your body.

You gave Raphael a smile bordering on playful. “Your signature mysterious and vaguely threatening answers won’t exactly breed a relationship of trust.”

“You and I have very different concepts of what a marriage should look like.”  Raphael released your jaw and took both your hands, pulling you with one strong movement onto his lap.  His tail wrapped around your waist, securing you against him. “Speaking of ‘breeding’, I have an excellent idea.”

Your retort was silenced as a long tongue and sharp teeth claimed your mouth and drank down your following noises.

#raphael x reader #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael baldur's gate 3 #bg3 drabble

[peachesofteal]

Dead Disco / Chapter 2

Chapter two of Dead Disco

Simon Riley/John MacTavish/female reader 2.8k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI (no smut but it's inferred), feelings of fear and anxiety, depression, alcohol use, brief mention of eating/food issues, fluff, relationship issues, angst, could be considered toxic, established throuple. The guys discover you're gone.

Johnny is tired. He’s been away from home for thirty-seven days, thirty-seven long days of trekking through a jungle and hiding out in small towns, thirty-seven days of trying to ferry a diplomat’s kid from one border to another, thirty-seven days of heavy fire and artillery bombing. Thirty-seven days of fleeting touches, stolen kisses, all while being unable to feel Simon’s body against his own. Thirty-seven days of missing you.

His eyes dart around the hangar, checking for stragglers or watchful gazes. When he’s satisfied, he moves towards the driver’s side door, to where Simon is standing, arms already extended in wait.

“We’re home.” Johnny breathes, molding himself into the warmth of Simon’s body.

“Almost.” The answer is gruff, but his grip is unyielding, uneager to let Johnny go, head bowed forward, cheek resting atop the dirty scruff of the mohawk. He’s still wearing the balaclava, will still be wearing it until they get into the flat and the doors are locked, but for now, they both take what they can get. Simon tosses each bag into the back of the car, eyes pinching sour with discomfort. It’s his back again, Johnny silently hopes that the comfort of their own bed would help alleviate some of the pressure on his spine. Those awful bedrolls were rough for everyone, but especially someone as big as his partner.

“Shuid get goin’.” His mind is already wandering to you and how you’re faring. Your absence chafes them, and it’s obvious now when they’re together that something is missing, that they’re lacking a part of their connection, missing their lost puzzle piece. It wears on them during deployments, causing their tempers to string tight and worry to settle in the back of their minds. Guilt burns in the pit of Johnny’s stomach when he remembers how uncertain, how stressed you’d been when he had promised, promised, you that it would be two weeks or less.

“Dinnae worry, yeah? Back before you know it.” you wrap your arms around his waist, face pressing to his shoulder with a deep sigh. He hated this. Every time, it got harder and harder.

“Okay.” The word is mumbled into his shirt, and he runs a hand over your hair soothingly. The sound of a duffel being dropped on the floor pulls your eyes, arm reaching for its owner, your fingers grasping onto the strings of Simon’s hoodie until he's there too, broad chest pressed to your back, the balaclava twisted in his grip. T-minus ten minutes until Simon was gone and Ghost was on point, so Johnny soaked up every second, you between them, right where you fit perfectly, Simon’s warm palm resting just at the top of his spine, the rhythm of being together, feeling safe, feeling whole.

Seconds turned into minutes, and then Simon was pulling away, dragging you with him to press a kiss to your lips before picking up the bag.

“Be good.” He says with a pointed look, and Johnny fights a chuckle. “And keep the terrace door locked.” You roll your eyes, playful spirit peeking through from underneath your worry.

“Yes Simon.”

“We’ll see you soon.” Johnny wraps his arms around you one last time, meeting your mouth with his, slipping into the comfort of home one last time before regretfully stepping away.

He couldn’t wait to lay his eyes on you, couldn’t wait to strip the balaclava from Simon’s face, couldn’t wait to take a shower and feel the heat of your body, the silk of your skin.

He glanced at the digital read out of the time as Simon turned the key in the ignition and huffed in frustration.  

“It’s late.”

“She’ll be asleep. Don’t wake ‘er this time.” Simon warned, and he scoffed. He didn’t intentionally wake you last time, you had blinked your eyes open when you felt them fall into bed, and he seized the opportunity. He couldn’t help it; he had missed you too much. And while Simon might be content to just pull your sleeping form against his body and hold you there, Johnny had to hear your voice.

“Hi.” You blink blearily at him, fingers groping blindly along his stomach in the dark. “You’re wet.”

“Had ta shower.” You shift, turning onto your side.

“Without me?”

“It’s two in the morning, darling.” He hums and you yawn in response.

“Simon?” your voice was more acutely aware now, and he knew it was because you were making sure. Checking off the list, verifying that they’d both come back. To you.

“I’m here, love.”

“Mmph.” You murmur. “Missed you.” your face found Johnny’s neck, lips soft on his collarbone, while Simon slid all the way over, molding himself around your back, an arm resting gently across your two bodies.

“We missed you too.” Johnny whispers, body relaxing for the first time in weeks, muscles going loose and his brain going quiet. It was good to be home.

“We could take her out tomorrow. She’d like that.”

“Maybe on Thursday, dependin’ on how she’s feeling. I’m not plannin’ on leaving that bed for at least twenty-four hours. And neither are you, MacTavish.” Heat licked up his spine, settling in his belly while the city flashed by the windows, while he wonders how upset you are, if you’re going to be barking mad at them, or just sad, the way you get sometimes when they have to ease you back into their affection, when they have to break down the armor that grows in layers upon layers when they’re away.

“Too long, it’s been too long.” He expects Simon to agree with him, say something reassuring like he usually does, but he doesn’t respond, and Johnny looks to where he’s splitting his attention between the screen of his phone and the road. “What is it?”

“Darling?” Simon calls through the flat, while Johnny shucks his shoes and coat at the door. It’s only eight, still early in the night, and they’re surprised when you pad out of the bedroom in your pajamas, eyes red from crying, straight into Johnny’s arms. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks when you bury your nose in his chest, Simon standing on your side, gently rubbing your back, concern in his eyes. “Love, what is it?” he pulls back to get a glimpse of your face. 

“Had a bad dream.” You mumble into him, and he holds you a little tighter, Simon leaning into the two of you to press his mouth to the top of your head in a kiss. He taps his fingers down your cheek to draw your attention back up to his face, and that’s when he notices. 

How dry your skin is. How cracked your lips are. The circles under your eyes, the hunch in your shoulders. He looks up at Simon over your head, who gives him a swift a nod, and pulls you away and into his own arms. 

“What do you think… about gettin’ in the shower with me?” He hears Simon coaxing you into the bathroom while he flings open cabinets in the kitchen, looking for your water bottle. When he gets to the fridge, he swallows a groan. It’s practically empty, only harboring the usual collection of condiments, some cheese, a few avocados. But no leftovers, no meals, no protein. Your usual overflowing bounty of green things is missing. None of the kiwis that you insist on buying every single time anyone goes to the supermarket. Nothing to indicate you had been eating. 

What have you been doing?

The flat is dark. Your sweater doesn’t hang on the hooks by the door, your shoes aren’t lined up neatly in the closet. The giant fleece blanket that you always insist on everyone cuddling underneath during movie nights is gone.

The framed picture of the three of you, the one that sits on the little table in the hallway, is facedown.

The bed is made, all six pillows stacked neatly at the top of the mattress, sheets and comforter tucked into the bottom just how Johnny always makes it. Your little jewelry dish that occupies the top of the dresser is gone.

Some of your clothes still rest on hangers. Your favorite robe is still draped over the tub in the bathroom. Your tea collection is still stacked neatly in the cupboard.

A single silver key sits on the island.

Johnny feels like he can’t breathe. He feels like he’s grieving.

Simon doesn’t speak either. He just stands in the kitchen, lost in thought, knuckles white.

He loves you. Simon loves you. How could you just leave? 

He reads the infuriating email over and over again. Four sentences. Not even a proper goodbye.

Hey,

I’m sorry. I left. The key is on the island. I locked the front door.

-Darling.

“It’s a week and a half old.” Simon breaks the silence. “She sent it a week and a half ago, could be anywhere now.”

“What if something is wrong.” He wants to deny it. Wants to ignore the reality, the sinking feeling dragging him down, fingers grasping tight to Simon’s as he gulps. “What if…”

“It would be near impossible to find this place, love.” Simon says gently. He’s right. Of course, he’s right. The title is in the name of a shell company. The mortgage was paid in cash. No one would know who it belongs to unless…

“What if we had a tail? And we didn’t know… and we led them right to her.” Simon visibly stiffens next to him. It’s a slim chance. The probability of the two of them not seeing a tail is extremely low.

“Call her.” Simon orders and Johnny’s hand trembles as he pulls the contact up and dials.

It rings, and rings, and rings.

“Be patient, Johnny.” Simon murmurs in his ear, breath warm against his skin, the smell of Kentucky bourbon washing over the two of them. 

“What if she says no.” Simon grasps his chin with two fingers and pulls him in for a kiss. 

“No one could say no to you.” They both turn to look at you, slippers on, Simon’s giant t shirt falling to your thighs. You’ve got a wooden spoon in your palm, face leaning over a giant pot of red sauce that you made from scratch. You’re singing to yourself, happily, quietly, but your smile falters when you look up at realize they’re watching you. 

“What is it?” 

“Nothing.” He says, a little too quickly, and can feel the groan building in Simon’s chest. You frown.

“Ooookay.” You do that thing where you drag the ‘o’ out really long, like you don’t believe him. 

“We want to ask you something.” Simon jumps in, disregarding his previous advice since Johnny has gone and spooked you. Your eyes go wide. 

“What?” you ask warily. 

“We want you to move in with us. Officially.” Johnny blurts, too excited. “You’re here five nights a week, anyway, yeah?” You nod, holding the spoon upright, eyes flicking back and forth between them. 

“Really?” He doesn’t miss the doubt in your voice but chooses to blow by it. “But… this is your place, I don’t really like, fit here.” 

“Of course you do.” Simon assures you. Johnny pulls you into his arms, leaning back against the counter. 

“We don’t wanna be without you, darling.” He combs some hair away from your face, and then licks the spoon, earning him one of your amused giggles. 

“You don’t have to decide right now.” Simon says, tempering Johnny’s enthusiasm, and you nod. 

“Okay. I’ll think about it.” 

“Anything for last call?” The bartender taps the wood with a knuckle, and you motion to your half empty beer.

“I’ll take one more, thanks.” The bottle leaves a little ring on the bartop, sticky and wet, shining in the muted light of the mostly empty room. It’s a place with no windows, black laminate floors, neon beer signs flickering on the walls. It smells in here, like stale cigarettes and cheap beer, but you don’t hate it, and it beats going back to your empty hotel room, with the giant empty bed, and the quiet empty hallway.

If the bartender notices your appearance, he keeps quiet about it. If he realizes you haven’t washed your hair, or your face, he doesn’t say anything. All he does is nod to the fifty pound note that you’ve kept sitting in front of you, placing another neat pour of bourbon next to your fresh beer.

It’s the good kind, Kentucky. The kind Johnny wrinkles his nose at. The kind Simon loves. You squeeze the lime into the mouth of the bottle, sticky, sour juice squirting all over your fingers that you pop between your lips and lick clean, one by one, before downing the amber liquid in one swallow.

The hotel bed is a king. Not a California, like the one in the apartment, but it feels just as big with only your body in it. You sprawl in the middle of it like a starfish, trying to feel for the edges, only to come up short. It’s disconcerting, you realize. The feeling of being alone like this, not waiting, not wondering what time the key is going to click in the lock. It’s been over a week, and the uneasy feeling has still not passed. Weren’t you supposed to feel good? Wasn’t this what you wanted? You couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t do anything.

You missed them.

You missed them so much; it was hurting you. It felt like a charred hole had formed in your heart, panic and despair leaking through your body.

It had sent you down a dark path, an endless rabbit hole that just got worse and worse as time went on.

So, instead of feeling the full force of it, instead of accepting your fate, you daydream, indulging in a made-up fantasy where they find you, track you down and drag you home. Where they’re standing on the other side of the hotel room door, begging you to come back, pulling you into their arms.

It's just a fantasy. They’re not coming for you, you know that. They have each other. They don’t need an accessory to survive, or even be happy. They don’t need you.

You’re on the verge of drifting into restless sleep when your phone vibrates, somewhere in the down comforter.

You don’t have to look at the caller ID to know who it is.

You knew they’d call when they got home, when they realized you were gone.

You honestly didn’t expect it to be so long, the idea that they got held up somewhere, ran into trouble making your stomach flip. What if one of them is hurt? What if they need you? 

No. No, you’re going to be strong. You are NOT answering that phone. 

The vibrations cease. You let out the whoosh of breath you’ve been holding.

The vibrations start again.

Your heart clenches in your chest.

Come find me. Come get me and bring me home. 

No. No, you’re strong. You don’t need them; you don’t need this.

Don’t answer it. Don’t answer it. Don’t-

Your thumb hits the green button.

“Hello?” The other end of the phone is silent, and then two voices talk over one another for a second before going quiet.

“Bloody hell. Where are you, darling… are you alright? Are ya hurt?” It’s Simon’s voice, raspy in the background. You swallow.

“I’m… I’m fine.”

“Where are ye?” Johnny sounds closer, and you hold your breath.

“I… I’m okay. I’m at a hotel.” Guilt swarms you. Of course. They’re worried something happened to you. “I’m s-sorry.” Come get me, you want to scream, come get me and never leave again. Nobody speaks, and then you hear the muffled sound of a conversation. A terse back and forth before Simon is speaking into your ear.

“Tell us where you are, yeah?”

The knock on the door is loud, and you stand on the other side, hesitant.

Why are you doing this? 

The knock comes louder this time.

Don’t be weak.  You left, remember? You left for a reason. 

You crack the door. Simon’s arms are crossed, and you can’t place the expression on his face, the balaclava obstructing the lines of his mouth that you’re so used to reading.

Johnny, on the other hand, looks torn between being on the verge of tears, and pissed. His hand darts out between the door and the frame, pushing it wider and bringing you into full view. The anger drains from his face within a second. Embarrassment curdles in your stomach. You look like a fucking mess. 

“Oh, love.” He whispers, eyes softening. Fuck, don’t cry. Keep it together.

“Hi.”

“Let us in.” Simon demands from behind him, and you chew on your lip. “Please. Whatever it is, we can fix it darling. Just let us in.” He gentles his tone, and Johnny reaches for your hand that’s gripping the door handle.

You’re stepping aside before you even realize what’s happening.

Gee, way to stick to your guns.

#ghost x soap x reader #simon riley x john mactavish #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #cod fanfic #Simon Riley x John MacTavish x reader #cod mw2 #john mactavish #cod mw22 fanfiction #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #simon riley #johnny soap mactavish #ghost x soap #female reader #dead disco #peaches writes #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #soapghost #ghost x reader x soap

[moraxsthrone]

⊹✧˚｡⋆ title — sir kaeya

⊹✧˚｡⋆ pairing — k. alberich x f!reader

⊹✧˚｡⋆ wc — 5.7k

⊹✧˚｡⋆ cw/an — nsfw. mdni. alcohol consumption (duh it's kaeya). kaeya being a bit of a tease (duh it's kaeya). oral (m & f rcv'ing). snowballing (how fitting). clit slapping. this fic sprang forth from the very first genshin thing i ever wrote (the scene at angel's share) so it's really special to me. kaeya was my first genshin love and will always be my favorite. 💜

surprising as it would be to most, you’d never been to mondstadt before this week’s multi-regional summit. as a diplomatic representative of your region, many would guess that you’d been all over teyvat. but you’ve only held your current office for a little less than a year, and although you did your best to absorb as much information and knowledge as possible from your predecessor, it’ll take a lot more time and experience than what you have so far to be as efficient as they had been. so, for now at least, the job keeps you busy - too busy to travel for pleasure.

so when the final meeting of the last day gets canceled, rather than go home early you take the opportunity to do some much-anticipated exploring of the city of wind and its culture. 

“i’m famished! pray tell, sir kaeya, where would you recommend we go to enjoy the most authentic dishes of mondstadt?”

kaeya alberich, cavalry captain of the knights of favonius, has been charged with keeping you safe. as your security detail, he accompanies you almost everywhere you go - keeping a low profile during policy meetings - blending in with the background while also being close enough to stand between you and any potential threat or danger.

“we?” he asks, looking slightly confused. “will someone else be joining you?”

“if you’ll be so inclined…” you say before biting your lip and looking away shyly.

“me?”

you’d have to be blind not to have noticed his striking good looks the moment you were introduced to him on the first day, and it certainly wouldn’t hurt your feelings one bit to allow the captain to keep you company. likewise but unbeknownst to you, the gorgeous knight has stolen a few glances of you when you’ve been too busy to notice. he has especially enjoyed your pretty smile and the sway of your hips when you walk. more than once he’s allowed his gaze to linger on your curves perhaps a little too long.

“but of course! i don’t want to eat at a restaurant alone while you just stand there and watch. can you think of anything more depressing?” you joke.

“you make a valid point,” he says with a quiet laugh. “very well. allow me to treat you to good hunter. you’d be hard pressed to find a more impressive menu! miss sara makes a mean sticky honey roast - i can’t recommend it enough!”

as the two of you dine together, you enjoy easy conversation, becoming better acquainted with one another. when kaeya introduces you to miss sara, she goes out of her way to prepare for you a sampler of sorts, citing it as the perfect solution to your conundrum of deciding what to order because everything looks so tasty. she also insists that your bill is on the house, refusing to take any mora you offer, but you leave behind a handsome tip anyway. if nothing else, you want miss sara to have it as thanks for her warm and welcoming hospitality.

“what would you like to do next, m’lady?” kaeya asks, walking alongside you towards the city’s center.

you should be used to this title by now, but something about the way the cavalry captain looks at you when he says it sends a small rush of heat to your cheeks.

“oh, i don’t know. why don’t you surprise me?” you say, flashing him a coy smile, which he finds irresistibly adorable.

he takes you to marjorie’s souvenir shop before leading the way to the anemo archon statue in front of the cathedral. from there, the two of you take a stroll outside the city walls, engaging in playful banter along the way. your personalities blend well - he’s pleasantly surprised at your ability to keep up with his wit, and his charm wins you over with ease. by the time the sun is setting over the edge of the western horizon, your conversation is flowing effortlessly. the two of you haven’t been able to shut up for hours when you ask him,

“so where’s the best place to get a drink in this town?”

the knight’s smirk spreads into a full smile as he hums. “i know just the place.” 

⊹✧˚｡⋆

the tavern is packed, and you’re inclined to believe kaeya’s got that pirate blood he claims to have since he’s standing on one of the big wooden tables, surrounded by other rambunctious patrons of angel’s share, singing along with the bard’s songs about legends of sea and treasure. their energy is contagious (obnoxious if you ask diluc who just rolls his eyes and shakes his head from behind the bar). 

you’re right there with them, clapping and laughing when kaeya reaches out, takes your hand, and pulls you up onto the table with him. neither of you are sure if the visible heat on the apples of your cheeks is because of the alcohol or because of the sudden proximity of your bodies. with an arm around your waist he pulls you right up against his side and wow! he’s more powerful than he looks. the song is about finding love on the run and kaeya is acting out the lyrics with you, embarrassing you to no end but you’re having too much fun to ask him to stop, so you just go with it. 

the song’s story ends with a kiss and you think you might just die when kaeya’s arm flexes against the small of your back, fastening your hip to his thigh. he brings his lips right up to yours, but they don’t quite touch. your eyes go wide as you stare into his periwinkle orb that sparkles with mischief. he practically whispers the last line of the song, his dandelion wine breath wisping over your lips. 

the cheering of the men around you grows distant, drowned out by the blood rushing through your ears. 

kaeya’s heart pounds against the palm of your hand resting on his chest.

you watch with bated breath as his ice-blue eye darkens with his diamond pupil. he shifts his weight and your knees feel like jelly when his lips but graze yours before he smiles and pulls away with a laugh. 

raising his cup, he cheers along with the surrounding audience before hopping off the table. setting his drink down, he reaches for you again, this time to help you off the table. you accept, and he pulls you closer before his deft hands clasp your waist, lowering your feet to the floor. 

a tease that kaeya alberich, you think, but a chivalrous one. 

while you find yourself mingling with other patrons it seems kaeya never lets you out of his sight. he’s never too far away, engaged in his own conversations with some of the other locals when you look over to find him looking at you over the rim of his wine glass. 

when one of the gentlemen offers to buy you a drink, kaeya seems to appear out of nowhere and places a hand on your lower back. 

“oh, that won’t be necessary,” the knight interjects, voice filled with cool honey. “all her drinks are on the knights of favonius this evening, but a kind gesture, i’m sure.” 

“why, sir kaeya, if i didn’t know any better i would think you’re trying to keep me all to yourself tonight,” you say with a teasing lilt.

his lips part as a slight blush appears on his cheeks, but he quickly recovers. “just performing my knightly duties to keep you safe, m’lady.” 

when you’re ready to go, kaeya’s having such a good time that you don’t want to end his night. so you make your way to the bar to pay your tab, only to be told that your drinks have been bought and paid for already (oh, he wasn’t lying).

you wander out into the cool night, the sound of the crowd and the smell of booze muffled behind the thick wooden door. no longer had it shut behind you than you feel your back being pressed against the tavern’s exterior wall. you gasp, only to breathe easy when you find yourself pressed between the wall and your now-tipsy chaperone.

“thought you could get away so easily, hm?”

your eyes are glued to his smirk. those lips that promised to kiss you earlier won’t soon leave your mind.

you laugh breathily while giving his chest a gentle push. “i didn’t want to put a damper on your fun.”

“who said my fun is over for the night?” no sooner than the words leave his lips, his eye widens as he quickly realizes how inappropriate it was to say that. “oh dear, it seems i’ve forgotten my manners. please accept my apology, m’lady…”

his panicked attempt at clarification is interrupted by your laughter. “relax, sir kaeya. i won’t hold it against you.” 

he really wishes you’d stop calling him that. it makes his dick twitch every time and you both know his pants will leave little to the imagination if he gets a hard-on.

he stumbles walks you back to the goth grand hotel, removing his cloak along the way and draping it over your shoulders when he notices you shivering in the cool night breeze. when you reach your door, he lingers as you unlock it with the intention of ensuring you make it inside safely. the bolt unlatches and you turn to face your chaperone again. 

he’s looking down at you and opens his mouth to bid you good night when you pull him in by his shirt and kiss him. it’s a huge risk, one you never would’ve taken were it not for the liquid courage coursing through your veins. maybe he isn’t really interested in you and that’s the reason he didn’t kiss you earlier.

much to your relief, he kisses you back. passionately. 

his warm tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you eagerly chase it with your own. you slide your fingers inside the opening of his shirt, balling it in your fist to lure him inside. his chuckle is low and breathy when he smiles against your lips which never leave his as you slam the door with your foot and push his back against the nearest wall.

“hahh…who knew you could be so forceful, m’lady?” he pants.

“sorry, but…” you say between kisses, carding your fingers through his soft hair, “...you teased me earlier and…” another kiss, “...i really wanted that kiss,” you finish with a whine.

“well, why didn’t you just say so, hm?” kaeya says, sucking on your lower lip with a hum.

his thumbs slide under your top, massaging little circles into your skin. there’s not a hint of humor in his voice when he rolls his forehead against yours and rasps, “i’ve been wanting to kiss you until you can’t breathe anymore…”

in one swift motion, kaeya spins you around effortlessly until your back hits the wall, his cloak falling off your shoulders as he catches your gasp in his open mouth, making it clear to you that he’s the one in control now. his fingertips dig into your lower back and pull your hips from the wall, forcing them to collide with his so you can feel what you’re doing to him. you let out a quiet moan at the feeling of his semi pressing against your thigh. his lips leave yours to venture along your jaw before trailing down the column of your neck, his blue hair fluttering in your breath and filling your senses with the cool, clean scent of his cologne.

you reach down and fumble with kaeya’s belt, swearing at it under your breath when it doesn’t cooperate. with one hand and a couple flicks of his fingers, it hits the floor with a clamor of leather and metal. you have much better luck with the fastenings of his pants, his lips returning to yours with a shuddering breath just as you free his cock and start stroking his wide shaft, so hot and hard.

he quickly pulls his gloves off and hikes your skirt up to your hips, exposing your creamy thighs.

“so warm…” kaeya whispers, raking his long, slender fingers along your skin until he reaches your apex. “n' so wet…”

“hhhgods fuck…” the words leave you in a huff, making him groan when you rub your thumb over his slit to collect his slick bead of pre. “f-hnn-fuck me, kaeya~”

with your blessing, he wastes no time pulling his now fully hard cock out of your hand in favor of grabbing the backs of your thighs and picking you up. you lock your ankles behind him with a whimper, the back of your head rolling against the wall when the underside of his dick glides over your dripping pussy lips through your damp panties. kaeya’s got two handfuls of your ass, his deft fingers curling and pulling your underwear to the side to let his leaking cockhead seek your naked opening. he begins to push himself inside, dropping his forehead to your shoulder with a long groan as his tip pops through your tight ring. 

you cry out, one of your hands flying to the wall behind you as you loop an arm around his neck for stability. kaeya spreads his legs a little further apart for leverage as he sinks a little deeper inside you, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. before he’s even fully sheathed inside you, he retreats just to push in again and starts fucking you, slow and shallow. he’s barely halfway in and you already feel so full, the thick vein on top of his shaft rolling under his skin as he pushes and pulls at your slick, gummy walls.

“so tight~” he breathes, open lips ghosting across your face as he goes for your lips again. “are you okay?”

all you can do is dumbly nod as your eyes roll back behind fluttering eyelids and a huff of a laugh bubbles from his smile. “feels so good…so good to me, kaeya~” 

you’re practically singing for him already and he hasn’t even bottomed out yet. it would probably go to his head were it not for the fact that he’s too far gone from the wet heat of your pussy sucking him so hard, the lip of your ring catching on the head of his cock with every draw of his hips, driving him too crazy for his ego to remain intact anymore. 

your elegant neck is exposed to him, letting his open lips drag along your moistening skin as your back moves up and down the wall with his thrusts. kaeya’s long, slender fingers grab your jaw and pull your lips to his. you’re so nice and wet for him that your need is spreading to his hips and balls. the sound of his thighs hitting yours when you finally take him all the way goes straight to your head. it’s one thing to feel kaeya fucking you, but hearing him fuck you - moist slaps of skin, his quickened breaths and quiet groans so close to your ear - it’s driving you out of your mind.

the cryo wielder pulls you away from the wall, your hot tongues swirling as he carries you to bed. his fingers squeeze the plush of your ass, guiding you along his throbbing shaft as he goes. kaeya lays you down before reaching behind his back to unlock your ankles and spread you open for him. 

he pulls out and stands up, looking down at you and letting out a breathy chuckle when you whine a little at the loss of his girth. but the view is delicious so you don’t complain. his rigid cock is thick with a large vein running his length and an angry, almost purple cockhead that’s dripping with fresh precum. his tan shaft glistens, wet with your slick. it bounces under its own weight as he kicks his boots off and pushes his pants down. 

you both watch the other undress with urgency; he makes quick work of his shirt as you shimmy out of your skirt. save for the battle scars, his lithe body is flawless - tall with long, lean muscles. seeing him like this makes you bite your lip and rub your thighs together.

kaeya’s lips curve into a small smile as he crawls towards you on the bed, his hands gently caressing the tops of your thighs as he kneels between them. he leans down to kiss your cheek, his long rat tail licking your breasts. “you are so fucking beautiful,” he says, barely above a whisper. “i've been dying to taste you…”

a sigh leaves your lips as he makes his way down your body, kissing and licking, sucking and nipping in all the right places. his breath feels so warm against your skin, save for the few times he purses his lips to blow cool air on the spots he just licked. he swirls his tongue around one of your nipples, only to replace it with his cool fingers while he gives the other the same treatment. the juxtaposition of warm and cool makes you arch off the bed, moaning when your clit brushes against his naked belly. 

gradually, kaeya makes his way further down, ghosting kisses along your bikini lines as his hands spread your thighs open just a little more for him. he watches your dewy petals unfold for him, exposing the hard little bud they’ve been hiding. “fuck…” he mutters, “...such a pretty pussy…”

“kaey-” you start, but your voice is cut off by a gasp when his warm tongue swipes swiftly along your slit. a single periwinkle eye stares up at you as he flicks the tip of his wet muscle over your clit, soft and light as a feather. he’s teasing you. you can see the mischievous glint in his eye as he dips his tongue into your hole. finally, his lips latch onto your needy clit, making your hips leave the bed when you thrust into his mouth. 

his taste buds rub your tiny erection, your flavor making him moan as he sucks you harder. one of his hands finds yours, your fingers interlocking while his other hand grabs and kneads at your heaving breasts, your soft tummy, and the plush of your thigh. 

he pops off you, drool and slick coating his chin. “your flavor…fucking delectable~” he breathes before diving back in.

he nearly sends you over the edge when he pushes two of his long fingers inside your clenching cunt, curling them to find that unmistakable rough spot within. your walls squelch helplessly around him as he finger-fucks you. your free hand grabs and pulls mindlessly at his hair, hips rocking to fuck his pretty face as he gives you the head of your life.

“ohh~ kaeya~” 

the searing coil that’s been spooling deep in your belly is getting impossibly tighter and when the cavalry captain hums on your clit, the vibrations send you. you cry out for him, back arching, walls clenching around his curled fingers. he pins you to the bed with his free arm and moans, a wet spot forming where more of his pre leaks out of his throbbing cock when your fists tighten around his cerulean locks. you cum for him, thighs clamping around his head while his tongue pulses over your clit until you’re fully spent.

kaeya situates his hips between your legs, wiping your spilled essence from his flushed face with a breathy chuckle before pressing the underside of his cock between your slippery folds. you taste yourself on his tongue when he kisses you, and he relishes your gasp when his swollen cockhead catches on your overstimmed clit. 

grinning against your lips, he says, “oh? feeling a little sensitive, hm? perhaps you’re not quite ready to take my cock again so soon…” he teases, pulling away but you squeeze your thighs around his hips, impeding his escape and making him laugh.

“i can take a lot more than you think, sir kaeya…” you purr, twirling a strand of his blue hair around your finger.

there’s that glint in his eye again when he licks his smirking lips. “is that so, m’lady?” he croons, reaching between your bodies to grab the base of his cock. biting his lower lip and holding your gaze steady the cryo user slaps the head of his cock hard against your clit, swallowing your cry at the sharp pressure. “fuck,” he groans. “you make the prettiest sounds for me…”

“so mean,” you whine, digging your nails into his biceps when he pushes his blunt tip inside you.

he drops his mouth to your ear as he slowly spreads you open around his girth, whispering, “...and you love it.” 

his sultry voice shoots down your spine straight to your core, making him moan deliciously when your weeping walls clamp down on him. kaeya starts slow and even, pulling almost all the way out before easing himself balls deep a few times, making you feel every inch as his cock drags and pulls along your slippery insides. 

the lingering effects of your orgasm have left you even tighter than the first time he fucked you. he can already feel the heat pooling at the base of his spine, his balls drawing closer to his body when his hips begin to snap. there’s no way he’s going to get enough of you before he cums. you feel too fucking good - the way your little cunt is squeezing and sucking him so hard, drooling and soaking his entire length as he fucks you. the pretty little sounds your mouth and your pussy make for him…your whines and cries of his name, the slurps and squelches of your juices all over his cock. 

he’s got to get more of you, plunge his cock deeper inside your hot, wet cunt. 

kaeya pushes up onto his knees and props your ankles on his shoulders, still fucking you through it all without missing a beat.

“oh gods, kae- kaeya~...feels so good, don’t stop!”

“wasn’t planning on it…” he pants as he leans forward, putting you in a deep press so he can hit the spot that makes your hips leave the bed. “...gonna fuck you until this sweet pussy of yours creams all over my dick…”

you’re twisting the sheets in your fists above your head, the firm ridge of kaeya’s cockhead bumping against your sweet spot with every snap of his hips. strands of blue hair are sticking to his tan skin, a bead of sweat trickles down his chest before dripping onto yours. his palms are planted firmly on either side of you, veins popping out along his sinewy arms as muffled grunts form in his throat.

your walls are closing in tighter around him, both of you can feel it. his name is leaving your lips in broken syllables, coming out in huffs with the force of his thrusts: “kae-ya…y-you…fuck…g-gon-na…” is all you can manage before he fucks your next orgasm right out of you. you’re pawing at his chest, crying his name, clenching so hard around him you’d push him out were it not for him pounding into you harder, fighting to stay inside, determined to fuck you all the way through it with his brow furrowed and jaw clenched.

his balls ache, but he’s able to hold out for a few more seconds before the coil snaps inside him. he swears and pulls out quickly, his narrow hips still jerking and his arm flexing as he spills his hot, sticky seed out onto your belly and tits. you watch the pleasure wash over his beautiful face as his cock twitches in his own hand, a groan giving way to a satisfied sigh as the last of his cum oozes from his slit.

one at a time, he lowers your feet to the bed on either side of him. both of you are out of breath, chests heaving as kaeya dips down and licks a glob of his still-warm semen from your skin before bringing his mouth to yours. you moan in his mouth at his flavor, eagerly swirling your tongue around his to let him feed you his fresh, salty cum. 

when he rolls off of you, both of you just lie on your backs in comfortable silence for a few moments, catching your breaths and basking in the afterglow. 

“i guess this means you’ll be leaving soon, hm?” you finally ask. 

with one knee bent, kaeya turns his head to look at you as you gaze up at the ceiling. “is that your way of kicking me out of your bed?” he asks with a forced smirk. 

“no,” you chuckle. “i just didn’t take you for the type to stick around after a one-night stand…” you turn onto your side to face him. “but if i’m being honest, i really don’t want you to leave.”

“just how big of a whore do you think i am?” kaeya asks, contriving to sound offended and making you chuckle. he mirrors you and rolls onto his side, tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’m glad you want me to stay. i’ve had more fun with you tonight than i’ve had in a really long time.”

“is that right?” you say, biting your lip and dragging a fingertip down his enticing cleavage. “then why should our fun end?” you lean in and kiss him, his lips meeting yours softly.

“i didn’t say it should...” kaeya says before pressing his lips to yours again.

you press your hand against his chest, prompting him to lay on his back. goosebumps rise to meet your lips when you kiss his tan neck. he leans his head back and gasps quietly when you gently palm his softened cock. your touch is exquisite. he wants more of you but first he’s content to enjoy the wet kisses you leave along his skin as you work your way down to one of his dark and tightly budded nipples.

you smile and look up at him when he moans your name at the feeling of your tongue flicking over what’s proving to be one of his most sensitive spots. continuing on down, you take your time ghosting sweet kisses along the valley of his taut abs, all the way down to his cute navel and blue happy trail. you’re appreciating the time and care he obviously puts into his manscaping when you wrap your fingers around his still-sticky cock, surprised to find it so hard again already. 

with a couple of fingers holding his base, you swirl your tongue around his salty cockhead and fuck he tastes good. you close your lips around his tip and give it a little suckle before popping off again to kiss the underside of his rigid shaft. you can still taste yourself on him too, somehow making you want to suck him even more. 

sliding his slender fingers into your hair, kaeya mutters, “y/n…please…”

you finally take him in your mouth, your saliva coating him as you slowly sink down until his tip touches the back of your throat before hollowing your cheeks and pulling back towards his tip. with a slight tremble of his open legs, kaeya’s fingers tighten in your hair - not to control your pace or depth, but because the sheer pleasure coursing through him has all of his muscles tightening. 

“ahh~ feels so…nnh~” he sighs as you take him in again, “...good.”

the sounds and words leaving his mouth are going straight to your pussy. you want to know just how good you can make him feel so after a little more cocksucking, you pull off him and move to straddle his hips.

you and kaeya hold eye contact as you line him up with your slit, dragging his tip between your pussy lips a few times. you’ll never forget the pleading look in his eye or the way his lips part when his blunt, leaking tip catches on your opening and you begin to lower yourself on his length. kaeya takes your hands in his, intertwining your fingers as your eyes flutter shut at the sensation of being filled once again with his girth.

you lean down to kiss him as you begin to ride him, slowly at first but gradually working yourself into a frenzy. kaeya’s hands grip your hips as you pop your ass on him, gliding along his filling cock. your moans turn to whimpers as you feel yourself approaching another orgasm and you start bucking your hips. 

“ka-hahh~ kaeya…” you sit up, your hands anchoring themselves to his chest, using his body as leverage to drag your clit along his happy trail. 

kaeya’s fingertips are digging into the plush of your butt, aiding your thrusts as he whispers words of encouragement. “that’s it, y/n. you’re doing so well…fucking me right…you’re almost there, keep going~”

and just like that, your fingertips dig into the muscle of his chest as your orgasm rips through you. you’re crying his name out over and over as you spasm all around him and the very fibers of your being feel like they’re being torn asunder until your body begins to go limp. kaeya welcomes you into his embrace as you lower your chest to his, your hot breath bathing his neck as you try to catch it, still whining here and there as he kisses the side of your head and tells you how fucking amazing you are.

with some of your strength and mind returning, you rise just enough to kiss him again, finding a fleeting look of sheer adoration in his eye before he lifts your hips and pulls out of you, his rock hard, creamy cock slapping against his happy trail. he moves you onto your belly while he positions himself behind you, pulling your weak hips up until you’re presenting for him.

“is this okay?” he mutters, dragging his tip along your quivering slit.

eyes still closed, you nod weakly against the bed. “ye-yes…please, kaeya~”

with one hand on your lower back, he guides his cock inside you before hooking both his hands around your hips. he fucks you slowly, pulling almost all the way out before sinking himself fully inside your heat again. but it isn’t long before kaeya’s wet hips are slapping against your ass and he’s watching the creamy ring you’re leaving on his cock, mesmerized by how beautifully it contrasts with his darker skin. the thick vein on top of his cock is rolling under the pressure of your tight, sucking cunt - every time kaeya thrusts inside you. 

you’re whimpering again. “s-sir kaeyaaa~” you whine at him over your shoulder. 

“love it when you call me that…” he pants.

“i- hahh~ i know~” you say with a sly, exhausted smile. 

his balls are tightening again - rolling around in his sac as the muscles around them seek to force his seed out again, making him moan and exhale a long “ah, fuuuuuck~” behind you. “gonna cum…”

after a few more stuttered thrusts, kaeya buries himself deep inside you, his tightened balls pressed hard against your clit as he unloads himself. “i’m...nggh...i'm cumming~” he can’t help but moan loudly as he coats your walls with his hot, milky seed. a couple of thick globs leak from the rim of your hole, and drip down his tight, dark-skinned balls.

kaeya nearly collapses on top of you, but manages to land on the bed beside you, pulling you close to him. you’re facing each other but your eyes are still closed as you both kiss whatever part of the other’s body or face is closest, too exhausted to mutter a single word. 

⊹✧˚｡⋆

dawn comes, bringing with it her harsh light. your eyes flutter open with a squint, turning away from it only to find an arm lying limply around you. 

oh. oh right. that happened. 

you smile weakly at the fresh memories of your drunken fuckfest with the cavalry captain of the knights of favonius.

the fact that your duties in mondstadt have been fulfilled and you’ll be leaving to return to your homeland give you a low, sinking feeling in your heart. after a few minutes of replaying the events of the previous night and considering your options, you gingerly move the cavalry captain’s arm off your body - slowly and carefully so as not to wake him. 

⊹✧˚｡⋆

kaeya wakes with a groan, his eye blinking open to find himself alone in the hotel bed. he sits up and looks around, calling your name once but to no avail. he thinks ‘how predictable’ when he realizes you left without even saying goodbye. he tries to ignore the ache in his chest, reminding himself that he should be used to it by now. he throws the covers back to start getting dressed when from the corner of his eye he catches something flutter: a folded piece of parchment that had been resting on your pillow. a thread of hope dares to weave its way through his heart as he picks it up and begins to read:

“you looked so handsome and peaceful in the morning light, i didn’t want to wake you. thank you…for everything, but especially for the night before. i don’t want to call it “last” night because i truly hope it wasn’t our last. please reach out if you feel the same. i’d love for you to visit my homeland so i can be your tour guide and return the favor…i’d love to see you again, sir kaeya alberich…”

you’d signed it with your name and a simple, small heart before writing your address below your signature.

a couple of days later, you receive a letter inside an envelope with the seal of the knights of favonius. 

“of course i feel the same. our time together was far too delightful to have been so brief. i would love to visit you and experience all that your homeland has to offer. the acting grand master has been urging me to take some time off to relax anyway. so just tell me when and i’ll be there with bells on. we’ll paint the town red and enjoy as many more nights together as you please, my lady.”

— sir kaeya

kaeya m.list | main m.list

⊹✧˚｡⋆ 18+ reblogs, likes, comments, and follows always appreciated !! i give you all kithkith !!

#kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya x f!reader #kaeya alberich x f!reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya alberich x you #kaeya x y/n #kaeya alberich x y/n #kaeya smut #kaeya alberich smut #genshin x f!reader #genshin impact x f!reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut

[body-face-words]

Assembly - Michael and David

Now for all of David's bits!

This is not the interview so (do)n't click on it.

They will all be on this post. Might be a bit long, but I didn't see a reason to make multiple post because some sections are too short.

Keep in mind that Michael is an actor.

5:24 - 5:47

"Who's the rudest celebrity that you've met?"

"Have you heard of a man called David Tennant?"

This part, he's just acting/playing saying David is 'Doctor Rude.

____________

"The rudest man."

Has a genuine smile - cheeks puffed, corners of the lips up, lower eyelids are up making his eyes noticeably smaller and his wrinkles around the eyes are more prominent.

"No, he's not really. He's lovely. He's very nice."

Wide smile, lower eyelids up, smaller eyes, corners up, lips relaxed, cheeks puffed, quickly licks his lips then smiles. No surprise here, he's happy talking/remembering David. Licking his lip and smiling can mean a few things: he's 'savoring' a thought or he's being mischievous/playful/trickster/ or he's just joking.

____________

18:02 - 18:07

"How about Doctor Who?" (Do you like Doctor Who?)

"Depends on which one."

Nods, eyebrows relax lips tight, licks lips, then smiles.

Before Michael says 'Doctor Who' in the beginning, he already has a slight smile, but that's more of a diplomatic smile. When he relaxes his brows, that's a sign that he's considering his answer/is more concentrated.

Tightens his lips to stop himself from talking or saying/showing too much, then licks them as he smiles. Whatever information he's trying to hold back amuses/causes happiness in some way.

It can be argued that he's smiling because of he reaction from those around him, but he was already holding back the smile before they started to laugh and Michael couldn't hold it back once he heard them.

____________

21:06 - 21:42

"If you were in Doctor Who, who would you play? The Doctor or the Master?"

"I think the master would be a good part."

His eyes are narrow - thinking and analyzing his reasons/answer. His volume is also low/quiet.

"They'd have to bring David Tennant back as Doctor Who."

I can't see his face well because of how far the camera is, but something I noticed us that Michael's tone of voice/volume went up. There was emphasis on the 'back'. It slowly starts to pick up volume as the sentence goes on, up until 'back'.

____________

22:48 - 23:26

"Can you walk us through the before, the during, and the after of your passionate kiss with David Tennant?"

Looking off, mouth open - thinking/processing the question. He's listening as he goes through his memories. When he hears David's name, he laughs which to me sounds forcefully. Michael throws himself back as he laughs, but his eyes are still off somewhere else.

He is listening and reacting, but it seems on autopilot. Michael is still in his head and laughs when he hears the people around him. Doesn't mean that the smile is fake. It's genuine, but his laugh is a bit lost because he's still thinking.

"I remember reading the script and thinking 'that's gonna be a big deal'." Image 1

Nods as he speaks - congruent to what he's saying.

His face on the first image means 'yep, that's it'.

Image 2: Lower eyelids up, cheeks puffed, corners of lips up, thin lips, tense face - Michael is once again, refraining from speaking or reacting/showing too much. His face is tense even with the smile meaning he's really stepping on the breaks.

"Didn't really talk about it and just went for it." Image 3

Face still a but tense, but he's not faking the smile. A fake smile can be mostly seen in the eyes and cheeks. Michael is smiling a real smile in this case (if you're not sure about it go look at the 'smiles' he would do when speaking about AL). He's just trying to hold back the smile, hence the tension.

"I remember seeing that everyone was quite moved by the scene and all the people who were there working on it."

The images above happen during the highlighted part.

Head tilts to the right, visibly and audibly swallows, slight frown, and tense face. The tone of voice also falls in this part.

Swallowing saliva means nervousness/worry and the fact that we can SEE and HEAR it means that his emotional/mental state was shaken remembering that moment. Remembering how the people on set reacted, is something that Michael doesn't like. He's once again, omitting information on what really happened and holding back from sharing. Michael disapproves how the crew acted on set. (There's a written interview stating that some people on set were acting strange after the kiss scene so this reaction could be linked with that)

"Yeah so we knew it had gone quite well."

Slight head nod, leans upper body forward then back, smiles.

His cheeks aren't as prominent, but there's still a slight horizontal smile. The eyes are smaller, but the corner of the lips are more horizontal and the wrinkles around the eyes aren't deeper. It's on the borderline, but it looks to be more of a real smile. From the tone of voice, Michael is still in his head, so his face reacts in a more softer way.

"And now we never talk about it."

Shakes head no - congruent to what he said. There's a flash of sadness. Inner brows are slanted up, lips tight, cheeks aren't prominent, and corners of lips down. There's sadness or disappointment about the fact that they haven't talked about the kiss. That sadness is quickly turned into a genuine smile/laugh.

It could be that he was acting sad/disappointment then laughed it off because it was juts a joke. I doubt that was the case because the first image happened so fast that not many would see it without slowing down the video or paying close attention in person. It appeared for a fraction of the second (micro expressions are an involuntary reaction that lasts for less than a second showing what the person is truly thinking/feeling).

At the end, he does genuinely smile and laugh. Could be that Michael thought that what he said was funny/amusing + the reaction of those around. There could be other reason for his smile. Just know that he did smile and laugh honestly.

"If I had the opportunity to kiss David Tennant I would never live it down."

"Well maybe one day you will - maybe one day you will."

Brows raise, white part of upper eyes not visible, mouth shut - surprised but not too much. More like a 'oh really...' or 'you don't say...' it's a feeling of perplexity and doubtful to what we are hearing.

His 'smile' at the end is obviously fake and not a smile at all. Mouth is horizontal, corners of lips are flat/down, brows are kept up probably trying to show a smile or bigger eyes (makes people seem friendly), cheeks bones are neutral, lower eyelids don't make the eye look smaller (look at the images above to compare his real smile). That 'smiles' is forced and shows disapproval, displeasure, skeptical, and/or dislike.

In short, Michael really tried to hide how he felt and what he thought throughout these segments. He stopped himself from giving too much information as well, but was as successful in hiding his feelings towards certain moments and the mention of David.

If I missed anything, please let me know!

#michael sheen #mention of david tennant

[cookienha]

☆ silly arguments with zb1

¦ ot9!zb1 x gn!reader, fluff

¦ warnings: established relationships, pet names, petty fights, kisses

¦ a/n: my inbox is always open soooo feel free to send in asks!!!!!

kim jiwoong !!

"The plates should go on the bottom rack, babe, and the glasses on the top. It's a science," He declared, arranging the plates and cutlery with almost comical precision. I scoffed, "Come on, babe, they all get cleaned anyways." Playfully rolling my eyes, I continued loading the dish rack with freshly washed plates. "Besides, I'm a firm believer of a carefree philosophy in the kitchen," The tension rose as we debated the importance of arranging plates and utensils with almost comical intensity. In the end, we compromised by taking turns loading, each secretly rearranging the other's efforts when the other wasn't looking. As we stood amidst the clinking of dishes, Jiwoong nudged my shoulder, eyeing the dishwasher infront of us, "You know, our dishwasher deserves better." Unable to resist the humor in the situation, I replied, "Maybe it secretly enjoys the chaos." We couldn't help but burst into laughter, finally realizing the absurdity of our argument.

zhang hao !!

"Classical music has a timeless elegance, Y/N. It's rich, sophisticated," Zhang Hao argued, defending his favorite genre. I, however, leaned towards electronic beats, stating with a smirk, "But the energy in EDM is electrifying! It brings life to the moment." Our banter on musical tastes continued, passionately advocating for our preferred genres. In the end, we finally compromised, agreeing to add both of our favourite genres into playlists that seamlessly blended the grace of classical with the pulsating rhythms of EDM. As the diverse melodies filled the room, Zhang Hao teased, "I don't think adding music into playlists should be a diplomatic mission,"

I chuckled, replying, "Hey, you started it," Our shared laughter resonated, the delightful (and upbeat EDM) harmony being the background to our silly little debate.

sung hanbin !!

"You seriously think leaving socks around is a form of art?" I raised an eyebrow, eyeing the scattered socks around our shared bedroom. He chuckled, defending his carefree approach, "It's giving me 'cozy aesthetic',"

"Well, Hanbin, if 'cozy aesthetic' involves turning our bedroom into a sock exhibition, I might need some convincing."

Our playful banter on cleanliness unfolded, each defending our interpretation of a tidy living space.

Eventually, we compromised, designating certain areas for Hanbin's 'cozy aesthetic' and others for my organized order. Amidst the sock battleground, he quipped, "Clearly, socks are the secret to a harmonious coexistence." Smirking, I shot back, "Absolutely, who needs roses when you can have an array of socks strategically strewn across the floor? Romance at its finest."

"It's my love language," Hanbin defended, eyes twinkling as he chuckled.

"Oh, of course," I quipped with a playful smile, "Poetry is nothing compared to the intricate art of sock-scattering. A true romantic, you are."

seok matthew !!

"Babe, leaving the toilet seat up is not a statement. It's just inconvenient," I sighed, noticing the recurring situation. He grinned, defending his case, "It's more efficient, you know. Saves time," Our banter over toilet seat etiquette continued, each of us sticking to our preferences and I couldn't help but shake my head, chuckling slightly at his different idea of time efficiency.

"Efficiency might be your mantra, but a surprise cold splash isn't exactly my idea of a time-saver." Matthew chuckled, undeterred, "Think of it as an invigorating wake-up call. Keeps you on your toes, quite literally."

As he continued debating on his time-saving toilet seat tactics, I couldn't help but chuckle. "Maybe we should install a scoreboard for our daily battles of convenience." He winked, "Great idea! Winner gets the TV remote tonight."

Smirking, I playfully accepted the challenge, "Unless you agree to keep the toilet seat down, prepare to witness the unmatched skills of the reigning TV remote champion."

kim taerae !!

"How many times have I asked you to close the kitchen cabinets? It's not a hard concept, Taerae," I sighed, finding them wide open again. He grinned, defending his forgetfulness, "It's an open invitation to snacks. I call it convenience, babe."

We both persisted, unyielding in our perception on kitchen organization. Ultimately, a compromise emerged, resulting in him earning the privilege of leaving one cabinet open for snacks, while the rest were deemed off-limits to reduce culinary chaos.

"Fine, just one cabinet. Save the rest for my kitchen use," I proposed, a smile lingering on my face as he pretended to ponder for a moment.

"Okay, babe. Just don't be surprised if you find me conducting midnight snack raids." He grinned mischievously. "Just make sure the cabinets stay closed, and we'll avoid a midnight snack catastrophe,"

shen ricky !!

Arriving home to our shared apartment, I was instantly met with my boyfriend's scattered footwear. With a sigh, I began to carefully arrange them one by one. "Babe, didn't we agree to arrange the shoes on the shoe rack? Tripping over them is no fun,"

He chuckled as he eyed me maneuvering my way around his shoes before defending his shoe placement, "It adds character to the room, princess."

I shot him a playful look, raising an eyebrow. "Well, if shoes are the new aesthetic, then I demand a matching theme for the kitchen. Maybe utensils in artistic disarray?" He stood up, walking over and pickrd up a pair of his sneakers. Grinning, he replied, "How about a culinary chaos motif? It's avant-garde." I shook my head, laughing. "Avant-garde or not, I prefer a clutter-free zone. Shoes on the rack, and we can unleash creativity elsewhere."

He smiled, leaning in to place a chaste kiss on my cheek. "Fair enough, princess."

kim gyuvin !!

"It's been thirty minutes, Gyuvin. Can we please decide on the movie? It's just two hours of our lives," I groaned as I eyed him scrolling through the endless sea of movie options on Netflix. "Tsk, darling," He clicked his tongue, playfully rolling his eyes and furrowing his eyebrows. "Choosing a good movie needs determination, you can't rush it."

"Okay, but at least, don't open an action movie. Like, we've been watching The Avengers for three days in a row now,"

"Hey, it's a good movie for when you don't know what to watch!" He defended his movie choice with fervor, voice high. As I decided to present my point of view, our playful debate started, using more time to bicker rather than choosing a movie.

"Okay, fine. I hear you," Gyuvin chuckled, finally settling on a romantic comedy.

"How about we switch gears and give our superheroes a break tonight?"

I sighed in relief, "Finally, tonight will be the night we break the Avengers streak," I chuckled. Gyuvin hit play as we settled in each other's embrace, watching the movie playing on the TV screen and leaving the superheroes to save the world without us for once.

park gunwook !!

"Gunwook, can we not leave the kitchen sponge in the sink?" I sighed, noticing the damp sponge laying in the middle of the sink as I stepped in the kitchen.

"It's marinating, babe."

"...What?" I stop in my tracks, tilting my head to the side. "For a more efficient dish washing experience."

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as we burst into laughter. Our banter started over basic kitchen hygiene, each of us sticking to our habits.

"It's a breeding ground for germs, babe." I chuckled, shaking my head. "That sponge holder next to the sink is there for a reason,"

Gunwook clicked his tongue, shaking his head with eyes closed and shaking his index finger, disagreeing with my point of view on kitchen hygiene. Standing up from the seat, he walked over and towered over me.

A smirk played on his lips, eyebrows raised. "Your obsession with cleanliness is adorable, but I'll stick to my rebel ways."

With that, he stole a quick kiss on my lips, leaving me chuckling amidst the remnants of our lighthearted kitchen banter.

han yujin !!

"Yujin, you left the cap off the toothpaste again," I scolded, walking out of the bathroom as I raised the offending tube.

He chuckled, "Does it really bother you that much?" "Yes! It's the little things that matter," I retorted, my annoyance genuine. "It's good to keep a spare, you know. For emergencies."

I couldn't help but chuckle at his idea, tilting my head. "Emergency toothpaste caps, really?" Yujin grinned, mischief in his eyes, "Alright, I'll make sure to keep the caps on next time," He teased, and just as I was about to reply with a grateful thank you, he slyly added, "But only if you beat me in a thumb war."

I burst into laughter, but I agreed nonetheless. A thumb war over toothpaste caps seemed absurd, yet we engaged in the playful duel. Amidst laughter, our petty fight turned into a thumb-wrestling championship, the toothpaste momentarily forgotten. In the end, Yujin surrendered, admitting defeat with a smirk. "Cap stays on from now on," he declared, sealing our resolution with a small peck on the cheek, turning a trivial argument into a cherished memory.

#zb1 imagines #zerobaseone #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 #zb1 fluff #zb1 scenarios #park gunwook #zb1 x reader #sung hanbin x reader #zb1 hanbin #sung hanbin #zb1 yujin #gunwook x reader #zb1 jiwoong #kim jiwoong #jiwoong x reader #kim gyuvin x reader #gyuvin fluff #kim gyuvin #zb1 gyuvin #zb1 taerae #taerae x reader #zb1 ricky #shen ricky #zb1 ricky x reader #zb1 zhang hao #zb1 matthew #zhang hao x reader #gunwook imagines #gunwook

[wholoveseggs]

Extra-Extraordinary {two}

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Just a quick ménage à trois with the boys … but it's round two.

7k words - Warnings: Just as smutty as the first one 😈 with even less of a plot!

{Part One}{Part Three}

If you rather read this on Ao3- Link is here

"It's okay to love fucking them both. I did." ---Kathy P

Extra-Extraordinary

Perched on the courtyard sofa, a book rested on your lap, yet its pages remained untouched. Boredom had taken a firm grip, the kind where nothing could hold your interest. The day began with you waking up to an eerily empty compound. Curiosity tugged at you, wondering where everyone had vanished to, and you found yourself anxiously waiting for someone to return.

Klaus and Elijah walked in, looking mildly disheveled and covered in blood. You looked from one to the other, your expression one of concern.

"What happened?" you inquired as they approached.

Elijah settled down beside you, his reassuring hand finding its place on your thigh. Without hesitation, you moved to your knees on the sofa, leaning forward to inspect the dried blood on his face. Pulling Elijah's handkerchief out of his pocket, you began to wipe his face. He responded with a gentle smile, savoring your sweet affections.

"Nothing to worry yourself over, darling," Klaus chimed in, taking a seat on the other side of you. "I have blood on my face that needs cleaning too," he teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

With a casual glance over your shoulder and an eye roll, you dismissed Klaus's jest. "I've been terribly bored all day and you won't even tell me where you've been," you complained. 

You focused on cleaning Elijah's face, the touch of your fingers gentle against the smudged blood. "I just wish I knew where you both disappear to," you admitted, a mix of curiosity and worry in your tone.

Elijah, ever the diplomat, offered an explanation. "We had a situation to handle, but it's nothing for you to worry about, my love," he assured, his fingers lightly roaming your thigh.

You finished cleaning Elijah's face, and he gently took the handkerchief from you, pressing a soft kiss to your hand. "Thank you, my dear.”

Klaus, amused, added, "We're here now, and all is well. Maybe you can find a way to entertain yourself with us."

Your eyes shifted between the two, a playful glint replacing some of the concern. "What exactly are you suggesting, Klaus?" you replied, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"Oh, I think you know. We all know you are not as innocent as you pretend to be," Klaus responded, reaching out and pulling you onto him.

A surprised gasp escaped your lips as you found yourself on Klaus's lap. Glancing at Elijah, you expected his usual possessive nature to surface, but to your surprise, he responded with a slow, sensual grin that made your heart skip a beat. 

"Elijah?" you questioned, reaching out to him, unsure of his reaction.

Elijah took your hand and gave it a gentle kiss, his gaze intense and filled with a mix of desire and amusement. He didn't rush to intervene, allowing the playful tension to linger in the air.

Klaus, holding you on his lap, grinned mischievously. "What do you say, love? A little excitement to cure your boredom?"

You shot a questioning look at Elijah, who finally spoke, his voice low and teasing. "Indulge Klaus if it pleases you. I'm here for whatever you desire."

You blushed at his words, feeling a combination of embarrassment and excitement. You unconsciously rubbed your thighs together, your arousal not escaping their notice.

"You know, I've been thinking," Klaus began, his fingers tracing the hem of your skirt. "Maybe it's time for another thrilling adventure, the three of us."

"Is that so?" you replied, playfully meeting Klaus's gaze before shifting your eyes to Elijah. The pounding of your own heart echoed in your ears, aware that the two vampires could hear it as well.

He nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "Indeed," Klaus murmured, his fingers moving from your hips to the waistband of your panties.

You intercepted his hands, preventing his advance, a teasing smile gracing your face. "I might be interested, but I do have a request,"

Elijah's eyes met yours, his expression expectant. Klaus, still reveling in the tension he had created, raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "And what might that be, love? More blindfolds?" Klaus asked, his voice dripping with amusement.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "You can tie my wrists," you said quietly, your cheeks turning a dark shade of pink.

Klaus let out a low whistle, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, that's rather tame. I was thinking of something more thrilling, perhaps I can compel you to do what I please."

Elijah's demeanor instantly changed. He pulled you off Klaus's lap, settling you on his own. He pressed a possessive kiss on your neck, his voice a low growl, "Watch your tongue, Klaus."

"Oh, I plan on using my tongue," Klaus replied with a cheeky smile. He moved close to you, his hands roaming up your exposed legs, dipping below your skirt. "It's nothing you wouldn't enjoy," he added softly.

"W-what would you compel me to do?" you asked Klaus nervously, your hands pressed into Elijah's shoulders. Heat was pooling between your legs and Elijah gave you a gentle smile, sensing just how turned on you were.

Klaus leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Oh, love, the possibilities are endless. Perhaps a little strip show. And then we'll see where the evening takes us." His warm breath sent shivers down your spine.

You looked into Elijah's warm, dark eyes, trusting him completely. The idea of surrendering your body to them was incredibly intriguing. You knew Elijah wouldn't let you be humiliated or harmed in any way.

"Let's do it," you said softly, still looking at Elijah, a silent exchange of love and trust passing between the two of you. You then looked at Klaus, giving him a sweet smile. "Do what you desire."

You let out a surprised giggle as Elijah immediately lifted you into his arms. He carried you with a steady grace up the staircase to his bedroom. Klaus, a playful smirk on his face, followed closely behind, eager for the unfolding scene.

As Elijah entered the room, he gently put you down, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. Klaus sauntered in, his gaze fixed on you, the air thickened with a potent mix of tension and desire as the brothers exchanged a glance, silently agreeing on the next moves.

Klaus approached you, his hand cupping your cheek as he looked into your eyes, compelling you. "Take off your clothes, love. Nice and slow."

You felt a strange shift in your mind as you automatically began to unbutton your shirt. Watching the two men sit on the bed as you slowly stripped, your cheeks flushed red with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. 

"You are so beautiful," Elijah said softly, giving you a warm smile.

Klaus chuckled appreciatively, his eyes never leaving your form. "Quite a view," he remarked, his gaze intense and hungry. Elijah's expression remained one of admiration, a silent affirmation of the trust and connection you shared.

Klaus, with an impish grin, gestured for you to come closer. "On your knees, love." The compulsion in his voice guided your movements, and you gracefully knelt before them.

"Now, run your hands along your body," Klaus instructed, mischief gleaming in his eyes. You complied, feeling vulnerable and excited beneath their watchful gaze.

Your hands traced over your breasts, your eyes closing as a soft moan escaped your lips. With your thumbs, you gently brushed your nipples, exploring the curves of your body. You opened your eyes to look at them, both of their eyes dark with desire.

Klaus leaned back with a pleased expression. "Touch yourself," he commanded, a playful glint in his eyes.

You hesitated for a moment, your cheeks flushing red as a surge of nervousness and arousal coursed through you. Glancing at Elijah, you found a reassuring and loving gaze that spurred you on. Your fingers traveled down, gradually exploring your core, touching your clit in slow, gradual circles.

Klaus's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he observed the scene unfolding before him. Elijah, his usual stoic demeanor giving way to a raw intensity, watching you with hungry eyes.

You let out a moan as your touch intensified, Klaus's voice cut through the charged air, "Now, don't stop until you come," His tone was both commanding and playful, urging you to surrender to the growing wave of desire.

As you continued, the room filled with the sounds of your soft moans and the low hum of their satisfaction. Your body responded to the building pleasure, and you felt yourself approaching the edge. You surrendered to your climax, your body trembling, as waves of pleasure washed over you, Klaus and Elijah exchanged a satisfied glance, reveling in the shared experience. 

"You make such pretty sounds. Now come sit," Elijah commanded, gesturing for you to join them on the bed. You approached, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. His fingers intertwined with yours, offering reassurance as you sat on his lap.

"Now take off our clothes," Elijah commanded softly, his hand gripping your waist.

You complied and slowly undressed Elijah, your hands moving over his chest and stomach, kissing each bit of skin you revealed as you unbuttoned his shirt. Klaus, an amused smirk playing on his lips, watched the intimate scene unfold.

Once Elijah was exposed, you shifted your attention to Klaus, your fingers tracing the contours of his body as you pulled off his shirt. The room echoed with the rustle of fabric and the palpable tension of escalating desire.

Elijah, his gaze unwavering, reached for his tie that you had discarded. He held it up, a clear invitation for you to extend your wrists. You nodded, and extended your arms, offering yourself to him. He looped the soft fabric around your wrists, careful not to constrict your circulation. Your heart beat faster as you imagined the possibilities. 

Elijah's voice, low and commanding, broke the charged silence. "Lay back," he instructed, his eyes locking onto yours with intensity. Klaus, equally captivated, watched with a predatory smile.

You moved back, and leaned against the pillows, your wrists bound above your head. Klaus moved closer, his fingers tracing patterns along your inner thighs.

Elijah leaned down and kissed a trail from your collarbone to the sensitive curve of your breasts. Klaus, not one to be left out, joined in, a hand moving up your thigh, parting your legs and gently swirling your clit.

You let out a soft moan, your hips jumping from the contact. Klaus began to kiss your neck, leaving marks and soft bites. "So wet for us already," he said in a low voice. 

Elijah continued his exploration, his lips tracing a path down your abdomen, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Klaus, reveling in your responses, pushed two fingers inside you, pumping you slowly as he maintained his focus on your neck.

The sensations intensified as Elijah's tongue danced over your skin, inching further downwards. You writhed and moaned beneath their combined touches, surrendering to the rising tide of pleasure.

As Elijah's mouth neared your center, his fingers replaced Klaus's. Klaus licked his fingers with a wild gleam in his eyes, watching Elijah suck your clit into his mouth. 

The room was filled with the soft, wet sounds of Elijah’s mouth on you, his fingers pushing further into your core as he tasted you, the intensity of his movements causing you to cry out. Klaus's hands gripped your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your back arched and you struggled in the restraints, it wasn’t tied very tight and your hands came loose. Your hands immediately went down to weave through Elijah's hair, tugging as the pleasure increased, feeling yourself rapidly approaching the edge.

With a low growl, Elijah gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he pushed his tongue deeper.

Klaus took your arms and guided them back, refastening the restraints, the soft fabric looped around your wrists.

"Stay just like this until we tell you," Klaus commanded, his compulsion sinking into your mind. You immediately stopped straining, and fell back into the pillows, a loud moan escaping your lips as Elijah's tongue worked its magic.

"Tsk, Elijah, you are usually better at tying someone up," Klaus teased. 

"I do not wish to hurt her," Elijah replied, his tongue continuing its journey across your pussy. He swirled his tongue, eliciting a soft moan, before returning his attention to your clit.

Klaus's gaze returned to you, and he gave a satisfied grin, noting the pleasure reflected on your face. "Sometimes a little pain can heighten the pleasure," he murmured, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek.

You let out a low whimper, arching into his touch. His fingers drifted to your breasts, caressing the sensitive skin. He then began to play with your nipples, alternating between licking and biting. Elijah let out a low hum of approval as he flicked his tongue against your clit, sending a thrill of pleasure through you. The sensations were overwhelming, and you could feel your climax building steadily.

As you moaned and trembled beneath their touch, Klaus's voice cut through the charged atmosphere. "Not yet," he commanded, his compulsion echoing in your mind. The building climax subsided, leaving you on the edge of ecstasy.

Klaus leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. "You're ours to command," he whispered.

"P-please," you began to beg, your whole body shaking as your desire for release overwhelmed you. "Please, let me come," 

Klaus's compulsion held you in its grip, preventing the release you desperately sought. Elijah, his tongue still working its magic, glanced at Klaus with a hint of amusement. The room buzzed with an electrifying tension as your pleas hung in the air.

Klaus, a wicked grin on his face, finally relented. "Now," he commanded, releasing his compulsion. The dam of restraint broke, and the climax you had been denied rushed over you in a wave of ecstasy. You let out a loud, involuntary moan, as pleasure consumed every inch of your being. 

Elijah and Klaus, watched with intense satisfaction, their hands all over you, roaming your warm skin. You laid there in the aftermath, trying to catch your breath, looking at both men with a smile on your face.

"Now, get on all fours, my love" Elijah commanded, rising from the bed. You quickly obeyed, turning and kneeling before them. The position brought an entirely new sense of exposure, as you felt Elijah's gaze on your ass. A low hum of approval from him and a mischievous chuckle from Klaus made your cheeks burn. A surprised gasp escaped you as Elijah grabbed your hips, pulling you to the edge of the mattress.

Elijah leaned over you, his hand gently pushing your head down onto the sheets. A playful smack on the ass elicited a giggle from you as you swayed your hips in anticipation.

"Do you enjoy it when my brother fucks you from behind?" Klaus asked in amusement. "I thought you were more of a missionary sort of girl," he teased.

Elijah's deep voice rumbled behind you, his hands firmly gripping your hips. "You seem to enjoy a bit of variety, don't you, my love?" he remarked, a teasing lilt in his tone.

Klaus chimed in with a mischievous grin, "Well, let's give the lady what she likes." He got off the bed and approached you from the other side, leaning down near your face. "Spread your legs wider," Klaus commanded, a playful glint in his eyes.

You complied, your heartbeat quickening from the vulnerability of the position. Elijah's hands on your hips steadied you as Klaus circled around, his gaze intent on your exposed form.

Klaus lightly traced his fingers over the curve of your ass. "Tell me, darling, would you prefer Elijah or me taking you from behind?" he asked, giving your ass a light smack.

"Elijah," you replied, sitting up on your knees and looking over your shoulder at both of them, giving Elijah a sweet smile.

Elijah returned the smile and stepped forward, gently cupping your neck and pulling you in for a passionate kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist, pressing your back against his front. He let out a soft hum as his tongue dipped into your mouth.

Klaus let out an amused chuckle, getting back on the bed in front of you. "Who would have guessed," he said sarcastically.

Elijah skillfully released the tie, guiding your hands behind you, his hands moving slowly down your arms before securing them once again. You closed your eyes, relishing the sensation of being entirely under his control, and a soft moan escaped you as his lips met your shoulder.

Klaus moved closer, capturing your lips in a rough, passionate kiss. As he kissed you, Elijah's hands massaged your breasts, his thumbs gently running over your nipples. Sandwiched between them, the mix of their bare skin, steady breathing, and intertwined scents heightened your arousal.

Elijah, his breath hot against your ear, his hands firmly holding your waist, spoke in a low voice. "You look so beautiful like this, tied up and ready to take me." He gently guided you forward, your head finding a comfortable spot on Klaus's shoulder. 

"Let's see if you enjoy this position as much as Klaus seems to think," he teased, his low chuckle adding to the charged atmosphere.

You felt Elijah's cock pressing against you, and he entered you slowly, letting out a low groan as he savored the moment. He began a slow rhythm, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you. Klaus, his hands cupping your cheeks, watched intently. His thumb brushed over your lips, parting them.

"Look at me, love," he murmured, a soft smile on his face. You complied, and a low moan escaped you, the intensity of his gaze and the feeling of Elijah's cock deep inside you was intoxicating.

Klaus pressed two fingers against your tongue, his eyes locked onto yours. Your lips wrapped around them, and you sucked his fingers, your tongue swirling around them. Klaus watched, his gaze filled with lust and desire.

"Such a pretty mouth," Klaus said appreciatively, pulling his fingers from your lips. He ran his thumb over them, a smirk on his face. 

Klaus's hand wrapped around your neck, restricting your breathing; his eyes held a dangerous spark, and his lips curved into a wicked smile. His breath was hot on your face as he spoke, "Show me what else it can do," his voice laced with a hint of danger.

Klaus let go of your neck and you let out a soft gasp. He kissed you roughly as his fingers tracing the line of your jaw, his gaze never leaving yours. He tugged at your hair and guided your head down. You gazed up at him, a hungry expression on his face, watching you intently.

"Don't stop until I tell you," he ordered, a playful tone in his voice.

"Be gentle with her," Elijah warned him as he continued his slow rhythm.

Klaus looked into your eyes as you licked the tip, slowly swirling your tongue around him. He let out a soft sigh and his hands gripped your hair, guiding you to take more of him.

You were completely at his mercy with your hands tied behind your back and you could feel his cock harden as he hit the back of your throat. Klaus watched with fascination, his breathing becoming more ragged. He started thrusting harder and deeper into your mouth, his hand gripping the back of your head. You were struggling to breathe, tears forming in the corner of your eyes as he pushed himself all the way down your throat. You began to gag and sputter, unable to push away. 

Elijah arms snaked around your waist, pulled you back against his chest and off of Klaus.

"Are you okay?" Elijah asked in concern, his lips pressing soft kisses on your shoulder.

"Mhmm," you nodded as you caught your breath, you moved your hips against him, urging him to continue his rhythm. 

Elijah released your wrists and rubbed the red marks left by the tie. He moved your arms back in front of you, massaging them, helping the blood flow to return.

Klaus, his expression softer than normal, stroked your cheek, wiping away the saliva and pre-cum from the corners of your mouth.

"I'm sorry, love, I got carried away," he apologized, his tone gentle and caring. He leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your lips. "I'll make it up to you," he whispered, reaching down and grazing your clit with his fingertips.

Klaus’ movements were slow and deliberate. You let out a gasp as his thumb circled the sensitive bundle of nerves, waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You let out a low moan and your head fell against Klaus's chest, the sensation of his fingers working their magic. Your breathing became erratic, and you gripped Klaus' shoulders, digging your nails into his skin.

"Don't hide those pretty sounds," Elijah whispered in your ear, his hands gripping your hips as he increased his pace. Soft huffs escaped your lips as your breathing became irregular, each thrust hitting your sweet spot.

"Going to come again?" Klaus teased, his fingers circling your clit faster.

You nodded in response, your eyes tightly shut as pressure built inside of you. You arched your back into Elijah and his lips traveled along your neck, and you could feel his fangs grazing your skin. 

"May I, my beautiful one?" Elijah whispered in your ear, his lips grazing along the sensitive skin.

"Yes," you breathed, feeling the sharp pinch as his fangs broke your skin.

The mixture of pain and pleasure heightened the experience, and you moaned louder, no longer able to stifle the sounds. 

The sensation of your blood being drawn pushed you over the edge, and you climaxed with a low groan. Elijah, savoring the taste of your blood, continued his rhythm, prolonging your orgasm before he released himself deep inside of you.

Your blood ran down your chest and Klaus gave you a wide smile, leaning down to lick it off your skin. You moaned as his tongue trailed along the curve of your breasts, leaving bloody kisses as he made his way up, stopping to lick and suck your nipple.

As the climax subsided, Elijah withdrew his fangs, licking the wounds with a tenderness that contrasted the primal act. You were left breathless, realizing you were caught between two predators in a dance of desire and possession.

"Thanks for the taste," Klaus said darkly, his lips glistening with your blood, his hybrid form peeking through.

Elijah withdrew from you, his hands holding you upright by the waist, your body still trembling from your climax. He turned you around and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, before helping you settle back on the bed.

Elijah leaned against the headboard and positioned you between his legs, your back against his front. He kissed along your shoulder and neck, his hands gripping your waist, pressing you against him. "Are you doing okay?" He whispered in your ear.

You nodded with a soft smile, your eyes on Klaus as he kneeled in front of you. His eyes, now a vibrant gold, held a dangerous intensity. He grabbed your hips and pulled you forward a bit so you were under him, he spayed a hand across your stomach, pushing you into the bed, parting your legs with his knee. The back of your head rested against Elijah's chest, intimately pressed between both men.

Klaus licked the remaining blood off your breasts and neck, his gaze focused on yours, and you could feel Elijah's grip tighten on your waist. Klaus moved his lips along the sensitive skin, kissing and sucking a trail down your chest. You moaned as he nibbled along your skin, a low growl coming from him.

Klaus, his fangs grazing against your skin, spoke in a low growl. "What a pretty sight," he purred, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Look at you, spread out for me like a meal, your heart pounding in your chest," he taunted, 

Elijah, sensing your fear, leaned down and whispered in your ear, "You're safe with me, my love.”

Klaus' hand reached up and gripped your neck, a soft pressure, and his lips curled into a feral smile. "Do you want me to fuck you, sweetheart?" he asked, a dark look in his eyes.

"Y-yes," you said breathlessly, squirming beneath him, and letting out a low whimper as the tip of his cock grazed your clit.

Yes, what?" he growled, tightening his grip on your throat.

"Yes, please," you replied, desperate for more.

"Good girl," he said, giving you a pleased smile.

Elijah's hands, which were holding you securely against him, slid down to your thighs, parting them wider.

"Let's see how well you behave for me," Klaus growled, pushing the tip inside of you.

You gasped as his cock sank into you, his movements slow and steady. Your hands gripped his shoulders, and he began a deep, teasing pace.

Elijah, his hand between your legs, began to rub your clit. The sensation sent a rush of pleasure through you, and you arched your back, your hips rising to meet Klaus's.

"What a perfect pussy," Klaus remarked, his grip tightening on your neck, "listen to the sound, so wet for us.”

Elijah, his voice low, whispered in your ear, "Do you want Klaus to fuck you harder?"

"Yes, please," you pleaded, moaning loudly as Klaus continued his rhythm.

Klaus leaned over, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth. He let out a low groan and quickened his pace, his cock moving in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot with each stroke.

The soft, wet sounds of your bodies colliding and your soft moans filled the room, the combination of noise making Klaus smile in satisfaction. He leaned back and pushed your thighs up, delving deeper inside you. 

You wrapped your arms around the back of your thighs, holding them in place. Klaus's pace increased, and his cock slid deeper into you. He began to pant, his breathing becoming labored.

"Fuck, such a tight little cunt," he growled, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Come for me, love, I want to feel you squeeze my cock," he ordered.

You felt the wave of pleasure build inside of you, and Elijah's fingers moved faster against your clit. You moaned from the intensity, Klaus's grip tightened on your hips as he let out a guttural groan, climaxing with a force that sent you over the edge as well. Your body trembled with pleasure as Klaus emptied himself inside you.

Klaus, savoring the aftermath, leaned down, giving you a dark smile as he kissed you roughly. "Who does this pussy belong to?" he asked, his lips hovering over yours. 

"Elijah," you replied playfully, casting a teasing smile at Klaus while reaching behind to touch Elijah’s arms. Klaus gave you a wicked grin, then he lowered his head to your chest, kissing and massaging your breasts.

Klaus looked up at Elijah with a triumphant smirk. "And yet, it was mine just now," he said, his tone smug.

Elijah rolled his eyes and let out a sigh, a mix of amusement and irritation. "Don't be petty," he chided.

"Me? Petty? Never," Klaus retorted.

You couldn't help but laugh at their antics. "Actually, It's all mine, you just get to share it sometimes," you said, teasing them.

Klaus emitted a low, throaty chuckle, his lips delicately nibbling at your breasts while his fangs grazed along the sensitive skin. A hushed gasp escaped your lips as he skillfully scratched your skin, coaxing a subtle trickle of blood.

"Klaus!" you scolded, your eyes fixed on him as he licked up the blood with a sheepish grin.

Elijah shot his brother a disapproving look before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. He graced you with a warm smile, and you reciprocated by reaching up to tenderly touch his cheek.

“We need bourbon!” Klaus declared, moving off the bed and heading for the door, confidently striding out of the room.

Elijah, with a contented smile, pulled you into his lap. He turned you sideways, gracefully draping your legs over him. "You truly are extraordinary, my love. I'm endlessly grateful to have you by my side," he murmured, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

Klaus returned with a bottle of bourbon, a smug grin on his face. "Here we go, the elixir of choice for an evening of delightful company."

Klaus grinned, pouring generous amounts of bourbon into three glasses, then raised his glass in a playful toast. "To Elijah, the epitome of generosity, for sharing this exquisite beauty with me," he declared, his smirk turning into a mischievous grin.

Elijah, in his turn, lifted his glass with a sweet and sincere smile. "To the woman who has stolen my heart and brought immeasurable joy into my existence. I am truly blessed to call her mine." he said, his gaze locked onto you. You blushed, feeling a warmth in your chest as you shared a fond smile with him.

You decided to add your own toast, raising your glass between them. "To both of you for being exceptional in bed," you teased, earning a chuckle from Klaus and an appreciative smile from Elijah. The clinking of glasses followed, sealing the lighthearted moment.

Klaus, always the provocateur, couldn't resist asking, "So, who's the better lover, darling?"

You smirked back, "Well, it's probably the one who doesn't need constant reassurances," earning a laugh from Elijah and a mock offended gasp from Klaus.

Elijah, with a sly grin, whispered into your ear, "Shall we give him a little reminder?"

You playfully nodded, running your fingers through Elijah's hair as you turned to face Klaus. "Perhaps a demonstration is in order," you suggested, a playful gleam in your eyes.

Elijah shifted you his lap, turning you to face him. Offering a gentle smile, he kissed you softly and inquired, "Are you up for more?"

You nodded and pressed your hands into his chest, feeling his cock growing hard underneath you. He delicately positioned your legs on his thighs, guiding your movements as you sank onto him. A soft moan escaped your lips, mingling with Elijah's own sigh of pleasure.

Elijah began moving slowly, his hands gently resting on your hips, guiding you into a steady rhythm.You could feel Klaus shifting his position behind you, his hands cupping your breasts as he rested his head on your shoulder. "Show us how much you love it," he whispered in your ear.

Elijah's eyes were filled with lust and affection as you started rolling your hips back and forth. His hands gripped you firmly, encouraging you to continue. You could feel the pleasure building with each movement, and Elijah's breathing quickened.

Klaus's voice cut through the charged air, "You can do better than that, darling. Ride him properly, now." His command spurred you to quicken your movements, riding Elijah with a passion that fueled the desires of both men. 

Klaus trailed his hands down your arms, deftly pulling them behind your back and securing them together with the tie. He pressed against you, his chest flush with your shoulders, his hips rolling against your ass, and his cock pressing into your back, brushing against your bound hands.

Klaus' fingers trailed down to your clit, rubbing in slow circles as you continued riding Elijah. "You are so quiet," Klaus said softly, his lips grazing your ear. "Tell us how you feel, describe it to us," Klaus commanded, his compulsion forcing you to speak.

Your cheeks flushed red as the words came pouring out of your mouth. "I love it so much, I never want this feeling to end," you moaned as the sensations overtook you.

"Is that so?" Klaus whispered, his lips pressing against your neck, his tongue tracing the path of the fresh bite mark. "Do you love the way Elijah's cock fills you up, hitting that spot inside you, or the way I'm touching you."  

"I love all of it," you moaned breathlessly, your eyes closed in pure bliss.

"Do you desire to have both of us again?" Klaus inquired, delicately pinching your clit, prompting a loud moan to escape your lips.

"Yes," you replied, arching your back. "Please, I want more."

A devilish grin appeared on Klaus' face. "Elijah," Klaus said, leaning over your shoulder. "Should we make her beg for it?"

Elijah looked up, a dark smirk gracing his features. He grabbed your hips and stopped you from moving. Your eyes shot open as you pleaded, "Elijah, please." 

He was still buried deep inside you and his gaze locked onto yours. "Tell us what you want, beautiful one," Elijah said softly, his fingers digging into your skin. 

Klaus pulled on bound wrists, causing you to arch back into him, "Tell us how badly you want it."

You tried to move but couldn't, both of them firmly holding you still. Elijah's smirk grew, seeing your struggle. "Please, I want it, both of you."

You could feel Klaus’ breath on your ear, "Tell us what you want us to do." he purred, pulling harder on your wrists, as his teeth grazed your skin.

You were panting, your cheeks flushed, trying to find the right words, "I want both of you inside me. Please."

Elijah's eyes darkened with lust, his grip tightening on your hips. "Tell us, how good did we make you feel last time? Having both of us filling every inch of you?" He asked as he began to move your hips agonizingly slow. 

Klaus pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck, whispering, "Don't be shy, love, or we won't give you what you desire."

"So full," you breathed, closing your eyes and trying to focus. "I felt so full, and the pleasure was like nothing else. I couldn't get enough.”

The desperation in your voice was apparent, causing both of their eyes to grow dark. "Good girl," Elijah replied.

Klaus released your arms, gently guiding you forward to rest on Elijah's chest. Elijah pressed his lips to your forehead, offering a reassuring touch as Klaus pushed a finger into the tight muscle. "Now, my sweet," Klaus purred, "we'll give you what you want."

Your hands, freed from the bindings, grasped at Elijah's chest, the pleasure intensified by Klaus' finger working to stretch you out.

"That's it, sweetheart, relax," Klaus whispered, placing soft kisses along your back. "Relax and let me take care of you."

Elijah placed his hand under your chin, raising it to meet his gaze. "Open your eyes, beautiful," he commanded. "Look at me."

You opened your eyes, meeting his dark, lustful gaze. "You are absolutely stunning," he murmured, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

Klaus took his time preparing you, applying the lube and ensuring you were ready. Elijah kept his gaze locked on you, observing your reaction. His lips ghosted across yours, offering kisses to soothe any discomfort.

"Are you ready, darling?" Klaus whispered, his lips pressing a tender kiss against the curve of your neck.

You nodded, unable to speak as Elijah's lips captured yours.

Klaus guided his cock to your ass, slowly pushing into you. You moaned into Elijah's mouth, clinging to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

"Are you alright, my love?" Elijah inquired, his gaze searching your face.

"Yes," you moaned, biting your lip. Klaus' movements were slow and deliberate, ensuring not to cause any pain.

"Is this what you desired?" Elijah whispered, his lips brushing against yours.

You nodded, and he gave you a gentle kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he deepened the kiss.

Klaus continued his gradual movements, allowing you to adjust. Your eyes were closed, focused on the sensation of their hands on you and the feeling of their intimacy. It was almost overwhelming, but in the best way possible.

You broke the kiss, resting your forehead against Elijah's as you panted. His hands traveled down your body, settling at your waist. "You are doing so well," he praised, his eyes meeting yours.

"You feel incredible," Klaus growled, his grip tightening on your hips.

They slowly increased their pace, their movements becoming more coordinated. You could hear their breathing quicken as they moved inside of you, and their soft moans mixed with yours.

You closed your eyes again, enjoying the feeling of them filling you up. It was intoxicating, having both of them so close, knowing they were just as turned on as you were. They both groaned as they found the perfect rhythm, the sensations of both lovers moving within you intensified your pleasure. 

Elijah whispered soft reassurances in your ear, kissing your neck tenderly. His lips found yours again, hungry and passionate, matching the intensity of the shared experience. The room echoed with your moans and the wet sounds of their movements. The feeling of fullness combined with the powerful pleasure made your whole body tremble.

In the charged atmosphere, Elijah's voice cut through the sounds of passion, "Look at me, my love," he whispered, his eyes locked onto yours, sharing a connection that transcended the physical.

As the intensity of pleasure peaked, Klaus's and Elijah's movements synchronized, each thrust sending shockwaves through your body. Elijah maintained his gaze, his expression one of pure bliss. "You are so beautiful," Elijah murmured, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "I could watch you like this forever." 

Elijah began to lift you up and down, bouncing you on both of their cocks. Your stomach tightened as they chased their own release, breathing heavy and their bodies slick with sweat. Their moans were deep and primal, reverberating through the room. 

Elijah buried his face in your chest, his fingers digging into your hips. He moved you up and down at a rapid pace, synchronizing with Klaus thrusting deep into your ass. Elijah’s breath was hot and damp against your skin as he struggled to maintain his composure. You felt him begin to pulse and throb inside of you, his fingers pressing deeper into your flesh. His breath became more ragged, and his muscles contracted beneath your fingertips.

You closed your eyes and focused on the feeling of their bodies against yours, the way their fingers dug into your flesh. You were overcome with an almost euphoric feeling, the combination of both of them inside of you.

"That's it, beautiful," Elijah breathed. "Let go for us."

Your walls began to clench around them as the pressure built up. Their rhythmic thrusting and their bodies pressed tightly against yours sent you tumbling over the edge.

"So good," you moaned, unable to form a coherent thought. A prolonged, strangled groan escaped your lips as they held you in place, extending the duration of your orgasm. It felt like you were floating, completely lost in the bliss. Your entire body convulsed as the most intense orgasm you've ever had washed over you.

As you climaxed, they each found their own release, their moans joining yours in a symphony of passion.

Their movements gradually slowed, their bodies collapsing against yours. The sensation of their cocks pulsing inside of you, filling you with their warm cum, caused another wave of pleasure.

Klaus' face was buried in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin. Elijah's forehead pressed against yours, his eyes closed and his breathing ragged. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him close.

Pressed in-between them, their hands roamed over your trembling body and your head fell to Elijah's shoulder, exhausted and content. He kissed your forehead, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

Klaus withdrew from you and sprawled out on the bed beside you, a broad smile gracing his face as he basked in the afterglow. You remained seated on Elijah, who gently examined the bite mark on your neck.

"I hope we didn't take it too far," he said softly, searching your eyes for any sign of pain. 

"No, it was wonderful," you replied, giving him a tired smile. "Thank you."

He brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face and gently helped you off his lap. You laid in between them, the three of you comfortably cuddled together. They both took turns showering you with tender kisses, whispering their praise and appreciation. Your body was spent and sore, but it was the most exquisite feeling. 

Elijah's arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to his chest. Klaus propped himself up on his elbow, looking over at the two of you with a sly smile. "Are you still bored?"

"Absolutely not," you replied with a soft laugh. Your hand intertwined with Elijah's as he rested his head against yours. As the exhaustion started to set in, your eyes became heavy, and you felt yourself drifting off.

After you drifted into sleep, Klaus got up and dressed himself, watching you and Elijah. "Lovely creature you've found, brother," Klaus remarked with a smirk, appreciating your naked form on the bed.

Elijah exchanged a knowing look with Klaus, covering you with a blanket. "Indeed, she is," he replied, his voice carrying a depth of affection. "I love her deeply."

Klaus grinned. "Well, Elijah, if she ever needs another hand—or tongue—I'm always here to assist. Just a phone call away."

Elijah shook his head in amusement, and Klaus took his leave. His attention then shifted back to you, his fingers grazing the bite mark on your neck. He delicately punctured his own finger with his fangs, a small bead of blood forming and he used it to heal your wound. You began to stir, your eyes fluttering open and a tender smile graced his lips as you looked up at him.

Elijah gave you a soft kiss, the warmth of his lips meeting yours in a passionate exchange. The two of you lost yourselves for a while in the lingering intimacy, kissing with a tenderness that contrasted the earlier intensity.

Elijah's affectionate gaze held yours. "Come, my love," he murmured softly, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. Carrying you with ease as he walked towards the shower.

The warm water cascaded over both of you, cleansing away the remnants of the passionate night. Elijah, with deliberate care, ran his hands over your body, the touch gentle and loving. The water mingled with the soft sound of his kisses, each one a promise of tenderness and devotion.

Elijah then carried you back to bed, where the sheets welcomed you with their comforting softness. You nestled into each other's arms, the quiet of the room accompanied by the steady rhythm of your shared breaths.

In the warmth of Elijah's embrace, you drifted back into a peaceful slumber. He watched over you with a profound affection, marveling at the extraordinary connection you both shared. 

{Part One}{Part Three}

#the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diaries x you #elijah mikealson #Elijah Mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #Elijah Mikaelson x you #Elijah Mikaelson imagine #the originals #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikealson smut #elijah mikealson smut #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikealson x reader #elijah mikealson imagine #tvdu #tvd #vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikealson fanfiction #elijah mikaelson imagine #klaus x reader #klaus x y/n #elijah x reader #elijah x y/n #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah x klaus x reader

[subjectgenesis7days]

WELCOME TO THE WORLD SUBJECT GENESIS

GENRES: Sci-fi, Mystery, Supernatural thriller, Action

CONTENT WARNING: Blood, Swearing, Violence, Suggestive content

You awaken in a cold, sterile chamber. You have no memory of your past or how you got here. You step into the harsh, fluorescent-lit facility, you realize that you are alone. Rows of identical chambers line the walls, yet each and every one is empty.

You are Subject Genesis, the result of an ambitious and secretive experiment by the Seven Day Corporation. For years, the corporation has been conducting tests, manipulating the human mind and body, augmenting you with powerful enhancements. Your existence is their most significant achievement, an amalgamation of genetic perfection and technological prowess.

The door to the room slowly opens, one singular scientist standing in the door way. They smile at you with pride before opening their mouth to say...

"Welcome to the world, Subject Genesis"

Certainly! Here are descriptions, personality traits, and approximate ages for each of the characters:

Luna Vega (Stealth Specialist):

Age: Late 20s

Description: Luna is a lithe, shadowy figure with ebony hair and piercing emerald eyes. She dons sleek black attire, and her every movement is silent, making her nearly invisible in the darkness.

Personality: Luna is an enigmatic and introverted individual who rarely speaks. She communicates through subtle gestures, hand signals, and encrypted messages. Her dedication to the resistance is unwavering, and she is fiercely protective of her teammates.

Dr. Victor Alden (Corporation Scientist):

Age: Early 30s

Description: Dr. Alden is a bespectacled scientist with graying hair and a perpetually furrowed brow. He wears the lab coat and the Genesis Corporation emblem, but his eyes reveal a profound internal conflict.

Personality: Victor is an intelligent and morally conflicted individual. He is determined to help the Awakened as a way of making amends for his past actions. Despite the risks, he believes in the cause and is willing to take chances to expose the corporation's dark secrets.

Sasha Petrov (Tech Wiz):

Age: Mid 20s

Description: Sasha is a tech-savvy genius with vibrant red hair and a wardrobe of bright and eccentric clothing. She always carries an array of hacking tools and gadgets.

Personality: Sasha is energetic, quick-witted, and known for her playful sense of humor. Behind her playful demeanor, she's a formidable hacker and technology expert who is determined to outsmart the corporation's security systems.

General Eliot Stratton (Corporate Military Leader):

Age: Late 30s

Description: General Stratton is a stern, imposing figure with a chiseled jaw and a commanding presence. He wears a crisply tailored military uniform, adorned with numerous medals.

Personality: General Stratton is ruthless, calculating, and loyal to the corporation. But even while loyal to the corporation he knows what they are doing is wrong.

Miranda Chen (Strategic Planner):

Age: Early 30s

Description: Miranda is a poised and thoughtful leader with long, dark hair and a confident air about her. She dresses in practical clothing suitable for tactical planning.

Personality: Miranda is wise, diplomatic, and forward-thinking. She's the voice of reason within the resistance and excels at strategic planning and problem-solving. She's known for her ability to make tough decisions with grace and poise.

-----------------------------------------------------

Ask welcome

#interactive fiction #interactive novel #twine wip #twine game #twine interactive fiction #twine if #twine story #itch.io #interactive game

[saintkunii]

All a ghost can do is haunt

Pairing. Zhongli x reader

Contents. arranged marriage, historical au, ex fiance childe mentioned, a simple life with your military general hubby zhongli.

Wc. 1.7k

It is with a heavy heart that you find yourself resigning to your fate, caressing a jade hairpin with grief. It’s smooth against your fingers. The intricate carvings give the illusion of a fluttering phoenix almost lifelike as if it’s about to soar to the skies. 

It’s the most exquisite thing in your possession and the only remnant you have of a certain diplomat’s son. 

With every stroke to the hairpin, you’re brought back to the day you received the item with so much fondness and excitement that you carried it with gentleness. afraid that if you put too much force, it would crumble under your touch. 

It was a rough hand that reached out to gift if to you that warmed up your soul. 

He said it was a promise of some sort. Of a lifetime and of his return. 

He said it was meant to symbolize your connection with him. Something physical. Something tangible. 

Something to remember him by.

You recall the soft breeze carrying ginko leaves off to the distance and the faraway clamor of a festive banquet in the background. 

His eyes back then were crystal clear, electric blue in hue stared at you with a tender grin, calloused fingers wrapped around your hand in a gentle hold. His thumb would rub around your knuckles in assurance as you were forbidden to meet in such a secluded part of the mansion. 

And he was rebellious in nature, always finding ways to get around and meet you in secret. When he enveloped you in his embrace, it’s as if it was meant to be, and you mold perfectly within his arms. 

It was perfect. 

His warmth soothed your racing nerves and the playfulness in his kiss filled you with nothing but glee. 

Everything went as it should. 

As the betrothal should have.

Ajax. You recall his name. What once filled you with joy and fondness has now turned into a bitter memory that makes you feel sick in your stomach. 

Your hold on the hairpin tightened and you let the item roll down your feet with a soft thud. 

It stings. Your chest feels constricted and your eyes warmed with tears. 

Oh you loved him so much, it hurts. 

Had you not decided to visit the marketplace with so much stubbornness, relentlessly pleading to your husband, you would not have met the sight of that man smiling and laughing with the woman he replaced you with. The ever so great foreign woman who attracted his curiousity. With hair as bright as gold, skin as pale as jade, and elegance as delicate as the calm winds that twists your heart with jealousy.

She was valiant. Aja- Childe would describe. Strong and courageous with a heart of gold, selflessly putting others above herself, and a woman of virtue. As you've been told.

You hated how soft his voice melted as he spoke those words. It was the same as how he used to speak to you in private. 

She was every bit that you're not. courageous and kind. 

It's a sight tainted with bitterness and such hollowness you can't help but resent the memory.

A servant at your side was alarmed at your reaction as she rushed up to you and supported you by your elbow. 

“Are you alright, madam?”

You choke a sob.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself and exhaled. 

There was no point dwelling over the past. 

Try as you might not to let said matters get to you, you realized that the long years of affection you harbored to Childe was not so easy to dispel as you had thought so. 

“I’m fine.”

Ling Ji picks up the hairpin and brushes away any dust that might have cling to it before returning it to you.

You take one glance at it. It’s magnificent and beautiful, appearing with great splendor that you've worn over the years. It carried all the memories you have of Childe. All the good and bad.

“Sell it away,” you order with a final conviction.

You decided to discard any remaining embers of feelings you have left for your previous fiance. 

This is for the best. 

You hope so. 

Parting was inevitable. 

“Madam? Are you sure?”

Ling Ji asks once more, afraid that she heard wrong but you only nodded your head to her. 

She knew how much you treasured the item.

“I do not want to repeat myself again. Just do it.” 

“As you wish.”

She excuses herself out of the room and disappears, leaving you all alone to gather your thoughts. 

It’s best you hold your head high now that you’re married to someone else and focus your energy on building a better relationship with your husband. After all, he saved you from the humiliation of being branded as a discarded woman not wanted by their betrothed. In exchange for an heir, he offers you all the wealth and luxuries, prestige and honor that are tied to being his wife, and freedom to do whatever you want to your heart’s content. 

–

Zhongli was a feared figure in the battlefield, a war god that ravishes the land with blood and carnage. Just a mention of his name was enough to evoke fear among the mass. They said he beheaded a man and skewered his head as a warning to the barbarians, they said he took a hundred men with his bare hands and tore through their flesh like it was nothing. 

It was always he said, she said. 

With a reputation as gruesome as the military general, stories were bound to blow out of proportion and thus you’ve always thought not to put too much attention to the rumors. 

When you first met him. He was nothing as they proclaimed him as. There was nothing like a fearmongering god in his visage. He was cordial when you talked to him. Ever so polite and patient when he offered you tea and shared a box of pastries over a casual talk. 

His rich knowledge of everything under the sun made you initially think he has semblance to the overly pompous and close minded noble sons that sees others beneath their stature, and yet not once had you seen him carry that arrogance that comes with the scholarly attributes. 

The humility in his approach is a little endearing as you would find yourself admitting.

“Did you enjoy your little trip to the market?” He asks, his hand careful in pouring tea. 

You watch his callous fingers wrapped around the handle of the teapot and as green liquid fills your cup, the earthy aroma wafts through your nose and soothes your nerves. 

That was supposed to be your job and yet you watch your husband serve you refreshments. Ever since you entered Zhongli's family registry as his wife, you always made sure to spend even a little bit of time with him.

“I did, my lord. But there was nothing that struck my fancy.”

You took the cup with gratitude and brought the rim to your lips. One sip and you place it back down with a soft thud. 

For some reason, Zhongli's presence always exudes such calm temperance that sways you into tranquil silence. The words exchanged between the two of you are never short and yet there's an unspoken trust that lets you cultivate in such an environment for such a short frame of time that you've been together. 

You consider him a friend at least. At this stage.

And you've been working hard to close the distance between you two.

“I see. Maybe next time I’ll bring you to Mingxing.” Zhongli empties his cup.

He sees your barely touched tea and regards you with curiosity.

“And have you adjusted well within the mansion?”

Whether he notices your plight or not, he doesn't comment on it and awaits until you're comfortable enough to spill it yourself. For that you are grateful. 

“Don’t you have Xiao to report back to you, my lord? I’m certain he already told you everything I’ve done.”

“That’s true but hearing it from you would be entirely different. I'd very much love to hear your personal opinion.”

You nod in understanding and recount anything of worth to tell. From the way you're adapting to your role as the mistress of the house and everything that involves managing the estate. 

You suppose you're doing well. Aside from your heartbreak. 

Everyday you spend time indulging in your hobbies. From reading to embroidering and painting, you've never felt more relaxed in your entire life. Comparing yourself with your life back in your paternal home, from the scheming of your father's concubines, to your sisters sabotaging each other, you've finally tasted a life free of worries. 

Zhongli did make a promise to let you live a comfortable life. Not only that but he had gone above and beyond as you noticed the lack of women in his inner court. As of now, all his attention was completely on you. 

"The progress for the renovation of the east wing is going well, my lord. It is estimated to finish before the arrival of this friend of yours."

You notice him crack a smile. 

“There is no point being so overly formal between the two of us, wife.”

You raise a brow at this, a little taken aback because of how you've been used to calling him. 

You didn't think it would matter to him much as he had always kept a respectful distance between the two of you. 

You humor him a little. You like this. 

You're thankful that he's meeting you halfway with your efforts.

He must have noticed as he's always been perceptive. 

“Very well. I’ll take it as an invitation to call you something else then.” For a while, you ponder for an endearment. “Zhongli.”

Zhongli chokes on his tea.

“You don’t like it?”

“No- That’s not it. It took me by surprise. That is all.”

“Oh? You don’t think it’s too intimate?”

“I, naturally, have nothing against it." Your husband regains his composure. "I suppose since we’re husband and wife then there’s nothing wrong with whatever way you wish to address me.”

You smile in response to this, letting the silence settle in the space between you and the warmth of what you can now call your family of your own. 

Maybe you're not quite there yet with love, but you're willing to try again once more, open your heart and trust with the companionship of your husband.

It's not all bad. You think so yourself. Zhongli is a great man as far as you can tell and you're ready to move on to the next chapter of your life with him.

#✧| written works: one shots #zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader

[the-modern-typewriter]

hey~ first off i love ur writing, it’s so gorgeous.

second, may i request something similar//continuation of the king x rogue series from like 3 years ago?? rly old so i understand if u don’t wanna bring it back but one of my favs of yours <3

(This one, I think -though this isn't a continuation)

"My lord."

The king jumped out of his skin (in a very kingly manner, of course) and whirled in his seat.

His rogue smirked at him from - he wasn't even near the window, he was lounging against one of the walls as if he'd been there the whole time. He hadn't.

"You're like a cat," the king said. "A ninja cat."

"A very royal assessment, my lord."

The king scowled at him.

The rogue's smirk grew. He pushed himself off his languid incline, shadowed by the encroaching evening, and closer to the pool of golden light which bathed the king's private desk. The king always privately thought that his rogue looked better in gold than he did.

Up close, however, there was something unreadable in the rogue's eyes. The king had seen it before, many a time, but he'd never quite managed to decipher it.

The king's scowl thus deepened. "You only call me 'my lord' when you're mocking me."

"I would never mock you, my lord."

"Or when you're about to tell me something that you know I won't like."

The rogue's smirk transformed into that something else - softer, but just as indecipherable. "Are you ready for your grand festivities tonight?"

"It's a ridiculous tradition."

"Most traditions are."

"Thank the fates that I'll have you by my side."

The rogue hesitated.

The king twisted properly in his chair, rising from his desk and his stolen moment for never-ending duties. His eyes narrowed. "Thank the fates," he said again, "that I'll have you by my side."

His rogue was always at his side, at his heels; his deadly, playful, dependable shadow. It had been that way since they were teenagers.

"My lord-"

"Do not." The king resisted the urge to fold his arms across is chest, because they were not boys anymore, and perhaps it was absurd to feel hurt. Betrayed, even. Yet... He swallowed and tried to keep his voice light. "You don't want to see who I pick to marry? You're going to have to put up with her forever."

His rogue, unusually enough, didn't say anything.

"At the very least," the king continued, "there'll be wine and dancing and games. All things, I recall, which are very much to your liking." It was more to his rogue's liking than his, certainly. He'd grown up the diplomat, but the only time he ever really had fun at such affairs was when his rogue was at his side, talking him into something that was probably a very bad idea.

"My lord." His rogue's voice was as warm and catching as a fire spark. "I can say with the utmost certainty that I have no desire to see who you pick or propose to tonight."

It was his kingdom's tradition that a new king, on the anniversary of his coronation, must throw a ball and invite all the eligible young women of the kingdom. He must then, over the course of three nights, choose one of them to marry. Of course, most of the time, the who was practically decided well before then informally. But it was still tradition.

He'd never considered that his rogue wouldn't be at his side for it.

"Oh," he managed. He was unsure how to reconcile the words with the tone. He cleared his throat. "I see."

"I don't think you do."

Their eyes met. The puzzle pieces flew together as his rogue took a step closer still, taking his hand with a boldness that would have shocked anyone outside of the room.

"I can't," the rogue said again, with no trace of that perfect, infuriating smirk.

The king didn't pull his hand away. The rogue's was rough against his own, scarred from fights and wounds that were meant for him instead. Still, he didn't know what to say.

I would choose you, if I could wouldn't fix the problem. Oh wasn't anywhere near enough, and I'm sorry felt like an insult to the both of them. It didn't change the obligations he had to his kingdom.

He could have prepared a thousand speeches for the moment, but his mouth still would have been too dry to come out with a single useless word to encompass everything. He pulled the rogue's hand up to his lips, instead, pressing a kiss to his rogue's knuckles in the same way a courtier might swear fealty to their sovereign.

The rogue closed his eyes. His shoulders sagged.

People would enter the room soon enough, they would whisk the king away to get ready for this grand and important night, and his rogue...

"You're leaving," the king said, finally. "I understand."

"What?" The rogue's eyes snapped open. "No."

Dizzying relief flooded the king and it must have shown on his face.

The rogue made a performance of rolling his eyes. "You'd be dead in a week without me." He dropped the king's hand, gave a smirk that didn't quite match up to the sharp shine of his usual, and stepped back. "I'll just be spending the next three nights getting merrily sloshed. You'll be well looked after. I've made the necessary arrangements."

"I'll send over a flagon of wine."

"Don't."

Yeah, that did feel like a pitiful consolation. Crueller than the king had intended it to be. He floundered. His hand felt far too empty. He folded his arms then, before he could stop himself.

"You don't have to stay by my side," he said, instead. The best and most terrible offer he could make.

His rogue opened his mouth, then closed it. He studied the king with uncharacteristic seriousness, before his face shifted to its usual carelessness. "Keep this up," the rogue purred, "and I'll think you're trying to get rid of me. See you in three days."

"Goodbye."

He watched his rogue go, heart aching, because what else was there to do that was fair or kind to the man he loved but could not have? Except to say goodbye.

He wished he could avoid watching himself get married to someone else too. He turned back to his desk, any vague excitement he'd managed to muster for the ball evaporated. He rubbed a tired hand over his eyes, when no one was there to see it.

He was, thus, surprised when the rogue appeared behind him again, pulling him around. Warm hands cupped his jaw with surety, and then the rogue's lips were pressed against the king's. Sweet and claiming and - if the king's heart had not been willingly given long ago - enough to steal anyone's love.

He'd imagined what it might be like to kiss his rogue so many times. He'd always feared that if he let himself try, he'd never be able to stop.

They broke apart, breathless; the king a little dazed.

"Tell your people," the rogue said, pulling him towards the bed. "That you're going to be fashionably late to that party."

#king x rogue #rogue #friends to lovers #writing #royalty #fiction #creative writing #story #story snippet #writing snippet #romance #m/m #lgbtq #lgbtq romance

[its-avalon-08]

hearts intertwined (hamilton x sister! driver!rosberg) pt2

chapter two: look what you made me do

warnings - none at all

series so far - pt1

The tension in the drivers' briefing room was thicker than the stale coffee being served. The initial shock of Y/N's arrival had subsided, replaced by an awkward curiosity. The drivers, used to the same faces, were eager to understand the new dynamic.

Sebastian Vettel, ever the diplomat, cleared his throat. "So, Y/N, what brings you to Red Bull? Surely you had some other offers?"

Y/N's smile held a hint of steel. "Let's just say I like a challenge. And besides," she glanced at Max, a playful glint in her eyes, "Max here promised to teach me how to properly drift a Red Bull."

Max snorted, a mock look of horror on his face. "Oh god, help me. You'll have Christian pulling his hair out in a week." Laughter erupted, the tension easing slightly.

"Seriously though," Charles chimed in, "who influenced you to get into F1? Any racing heroes?"

Y/N's smile softened. "Actually, my biggest inspiration has always been my brother."

A hush fell over the room. All eyes darted towards Lewis, who sat rigidly in his chair, his jaw clenched.

"Nico gave me incredible advice, pushed me to my limits, and always believed in me. No major racing company looked at me as a child considering I was a girl. Nico gave me all the confidence I have today and I owe it all to him," Y/N continued, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension.

Lewis scoffed, a barely audible sound, but enough for everyone to hear. "Cheating motherfucker," Lewis muttered soft enough to not be audible but loud enough to know that he said something

Y/N's smile vanished, replaced by a glacial stare. "Something you want to share, Lewis?" she drawled, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. "Perhaps some… helpful pointers on how to lose gracefully?"

The room erupted in gasps. Lewis' face turned a deep shade of crimson. He opened his mouth to retort, but Sebastian intervened before a full-blown argument could erupt.

"Alright, alright, let's keep things civil, shall we?" he chuckled nervously.

The media pounced on the exchange like vultures on carrion. Headlines screamed of a brewing 'Rosberg Revenge', with Y/N's comment dissected and twisted into a declaration of war.

Back in the Red Bull garage, Y/N rolled her eyes at the news articles Max shoved in her face. "Honestly, these people wouldn't know drama if it bit them in the ass"

Max grinned. "Schat just focus on the race, Y/N. Don't let Lewis get to you."

Y/N snorted. "Don't worry, Max. The only thing Lewis will be getting this season is a taste of defeat."

The competitive fire in her eyes burned bright, fueled by a mix of raw talent and a burning desire to not just win, but to prove Lewis wrong. The stage was set for a season unlike any other, a season where sibling rivalry would take center stage, and the battle lines were already drawn.

credits for gif - @lewishamiltongifs

leave a like! leave a comment! reblogs are appreciated!

#sir lewis hamilton #lewis x reader #lewis hamilton #mercedes #red bull racing #lando norris #charles leclerc #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen imagine #y/n #carlos sainz imagine #female driver #formula one fanfiction #f1 #fia

[prince-kallisto]

I never noticed this line from Masquerade Sebek before, but it surprised me how he mentions that his cape resembles bird feathers. His cape is only on his right, and Silver’s cape mirrors his by being on his left.

In Sebek’s groovy, we get a better shot of the cape from the back, and it certainly does resemble a bird’s feathers. It’s specifically mentioned that Sebek and Silver’s outfits were made to compliment Malleus as “his knights.” The paralleled dragon wings definitely got a lot of attention, but I never realized this part about both of their capes!

I am a firm believer that the Halloween events in particular are special cases of foreshadowing the late game. There’s a reason why it’s such a huge event every year, with even unique, animated trailers (a treatment only the opening and dorm trailers have gotten). So I wonder if this was a reference to not only the live action Maleficent, but to Levan (Malleus’ father). In the live action, Maleficent turns Diaval from a crow into a human, telling him she “needs him to be her wings.” Levan was similarly compared to this, by being Meleanor’s “eyes, limbs, and husband.” (Translation credits to GasMask on YouTube🐦‍⬛)

Edit: Also a potential parallel to Meleanor specifically, with Silver and Sebek forming the “left and right generals” to Malleus, who heavily resembles her

Silver and Sebek’s wings put together make a fully winged cape, not only the dragon wings on their shoulders, but the feathered wings as well. This seems like yet another homage to both Meleanor and Levan, with the combination of dragon and bird (it has not yet been confirmed what type of Fae Levan is, but his overall character seems to be inspired by Diablo and Diaval, Maleficent’s ravens). I believe the closest other example of a winged cape would be Crowley.

And as I was watching more of Glorious Masquerade today, these lines stuck out to me. In-universe, these masquerade outfits were patterned from designs from over 500 YEARS ago. The people of the City of Flowers would emulate nobles, royalty, merchants, and knights for festival periods. Now, I’m sure Noble Bell College were able to design such fitting designs for the NRC boys because it’s revealed that Crowley gave Rollo A LOT of documents relating to the students. So I’m sure the patterns were adjusted and decorated to fit each individual student with the information they got regarding their background and dorm.

But over 500 years ago is an interesting number, don’t you think? Sebek remarks that he’s amazed that an attire outside of Briar Valley could elevate Malleus’s elegance and beauty. But…what if that’s not the case? What if Malleus’ outfit was patterned after a Briar Valley outfit from over 500 years ago? Or rather, specifically inspired by Levan’s outfit?

Levan was in charge of foreign affairs and was a diplomat. He was an reputable and excellent envoy (a messenger or representative for diplomatic missions). Shockingly in Book 7, when General Lilia was traveling the world to try and find ways to hatch Eggleus, he went to the City of Flowers. I’m sure the story of Meleanor and the Human-Fae war was twisted by the Silver Owls, so the City of Flowers turned on the Fae during that time period. So what if there was a time before the war that Levan visited the City of Flowers? (Translation credits to OtomeAyui🐦‍⬛)

I am running woefully low on mobile photo post limits lmao, but if you look at the masquerade outfit designs, Malleus’ is the most distinct. His overall outfit definitely has the City of Flowers flair, but look at the others- where there are themes of shoulder pads, and ruffles and thicker cloth at the sleeves. Yet Malleus’ is the only one with transparent sleeves that expose his arms, and a square neckline. Why is only one outfit patterned so far from the traditional norm? (Playful Land Lilia was also said to have this distinctive and old style of neckline compared to the rest of his classmates, so it’s been theorized that this is/was potentially a fashion trend in Briar Valley).

In the above photo, I’m also surprised at how Malleus’ mask curves a little to resemble a beak. With Malleus’ shoulder feathers that have infamously been noted amongst the fandom to resemble Crowley’s, Malleus seems to have a raven theme with the mask and black feathers.

And bringing back what Rollo said about 500 years, in Book 7 we visit Lilia’s dream that first begins 400 years ago. 500 years ago is when Lilia received an admissions letter from NRC. I can’t say for sure when the Human-Fae war started, but Levan went missing around 100 years after. The point is- he was around during that 500 year time period that Rollo mentioned

So…all in all, I suppose this isn’t some lore-shattering theory/headcanon haha, but I wonder if Levan, in one of his previous diplomatic missions, visited the City of Flowers pre Human-Fae war. The way I envision it, Levan established a relationship with the City. After all, Lilia and Meleanor describe him as a kind man who sought to reunite all kinds of human and Fae together. So while he was there, some locals took note of his attire- perhaps even sketching him as well. Remember what Rollo said of the city taking inspiration for festival clothes from royalty and nobles, which Levan fits perfectly under that description. This was before the war, so the locals were kind and not afraid of him, unlike how they were with Lilia post-war

And through some twisted hand of fate, Malleus was best suited for the pattern inspired by his own father from 500 years ago. Perhaps Silver and Sebek’s cape resembling bird feathers were patterned after Levan’s wings as well? Because even though NBC definitely made unique outfits for the NRC students, why does Diasomnia of all dorms have this feather and raven theme? 👀

…

I like the implications that Crowley has been to the City of Flowers before haha. It’s a very nice and safe place, he says 🌸🐦‍⬛

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst theory #twst jp spoilers #twst Sebek #twst malleus #twst malleus draconia #twst levan #twst levan draconia #dire crowley #twst glorious masquerade #twst city of flowers #twst analysis #kallistopost

[azulera]

Bisous

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Black Reader

Summary: 5 different ways that Kylian gives you kisses.

Notes: this is 1 of my favorite things i've ever written I think! qué emoción. Gentle feedback is very welcome + ao3 link

————————————————————————

I.

You have a life of your own, and a busy one too, but you always make time for small moments with your lover - a trip to the café, or a night at the cinema. What was small before, with Kylian, suddenly swells to the size of France, the size of Europe, to the size of the world. You’re unpleasantly reminded while waiting in line for a ticket to a 10pm show, and standing impossibly close to each other to brave the weather. The Parisian chill brings out his chivalry, so your hands rest in the pockets of his own jacket.

You look up into your boyfriend’s face colored by streetlights, at his lips gone slightly chapped in the wind and want to kiss them smooth, but think twice, knowing unfriendly eyes and cameras are always watching. It’s as if he can read your thoughts in your eyes, though, as he instead presses a kiss onto your hair that has gone even curlier with the chill. You pretend you can feel the heat of it traveling through your head, down to your chest and all throughout your body. When you see the flash of a phone camera, you go cold, turning and hiding your face in the wall of his chest. When the lights turn to voices, questions, and yells, you begin to pull away, but his hand finds yours and squeezes. The ticket line moves and he is diplomatic, talking his way out of a crowd all while his other arm weighs solid across your shoulders. You hold so tight to his fingers, you think you might break them. But he never lets go.

II.

At family dinners at chez Mbappé, French and English and Arabic blend and blur, and yet everyone is understood. You are even introduced to a cousin, with whom you and Kylian can flex your well-practiced Spanish. Over bowls of salad and rice and stew, conversations, jokes and memories fly and land and a picture comes into focus: in each of his loved ones a piece of the puzzle that makes him who he is, plus that special, unnameable thing that drew you to him in the first place. In the warmth of their presence, that thing grows and blossoms into its fullest form, stress and responsibilities shedding away until only a playful joy is left. Soon you fall under this spell, too, chatting with the adults and playing games with the children, both by his side and on your own. The fullness in your heart at what this means leaks out through your smiles, which come and stay until your face hurts too much from laughing.

What you see shining in his eyes over your dessert napkin later in the night almost frightens you with its tenderness. There are no words to describe what he wants to say, and this is no place for grand gestures, but the silent press of his lips against the back of your hand says a million words, in all of the languages you both speak.

III.

On rides home after a match, whether thrilling win or crushing loss, Kylian is defeated. He slumps into the backseat like a man twice his age, having given the most youthful part of himself to the grass and dirt glowing beneath stadium lights. You, instead, vibrate with energy, adrenaline surging so much from watching along that even your brown cheeks mimic the red stripes on his jersey. So, the two of you meet somewhere in the middle. Seatbelts are forgotten, his head rests on your chest, and your arms circle his back while you wait for your heartbeats to reach a common level.

When his lips latch on to your neck in the dark of the car, you know they are only kisses for kissing’s sake. They are a promise, a reminder, a shadow of a desire hindered only by an exhaustion that permeates his bones. So, you hold him up, enjoying the feeling, and letting him know so, fingers dragging gently along the nape of his neck. Tomorrow he will be bright and buzzing again, but for now he is a gentle giant, calm and docile as a baby, a warm weight between your arms. If he leaves marks to be found in the morning, you know what they will really mean is “thank you”.

IV.

In the mornings, you hear his voice before you see his face, and it is low and rich and as sweet to your ears as a song. His body is soft and warm beside yours in the breaking sunlight, yet he pulls you closer, hands reaching for your golden skin as if you were the sun itself.

“Ma fille d’or,” He calls you, breathing in your scent with his nose between your neck and shoulder. “I have to go.”

“Je sais.” You speak with your eyes closed. “Do you want me to get up with you?”

“Non, just stay there, just as you are. Tu est vraiment belle, tu sais?"

“J’ai entendu ça déjà, oui.”

He laughs, so close to your face you can feel the vibration, and then his lips, against your cheeks, eyelids, nose and chin. Tickling you, teasing you, and making you miss him already. You are so swept up you hardly notice when he’s stopped. You open your eyes to his apologetic, smiling face.

“A bientôt, mon amour.”

“A bientôt.”

“Au revoir.”

“Au revoir.”

He is making leaving harder than it has to be, but a final kiss on your bare shoulder makes it softer. He leaves to go get ready for training, and you turn over in bed slowly, carefully. If you don’t ruffle the sheets too much, and stay very still, you can close your eyes and imagine he’s still there.

V.

On empty evenings in your bedroom, where it is the two of you alone, your affection for each other is no longer burdened by place or time. Here, you could kiss him for hours and he would not get tired, and he is as persistent and insatiable as he is on the pitch. Whether you are on top of him, beneath him, or beside him is no matter - the sinews of his body are agile as they bend to you, your mouths drawn to each other as if by magnets behind your teeth.

Here, his kisses punctuate his needs and wants: “Non”, “Oui”, “Look at me”, “Don’t stop”, and you learn to identify his desires by their pressure. There are deep kisses, him swallowing all the sounds you make, and shallow pecks that force more sound out of you, but in each variation there is something the same. Three words, one phrase, whispered, shouted, and cursed, before, during, and after. He speaks them into your open mouth, one time in French, in Spanish, in English, and you think that no lips have ever uttered anything more beautiful. You are breathless, cradled in his strong arms, and lost in his eyes when, one by one, you kiss them back into his.

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe fanfiction #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe x OC #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x you #football fanfiction #football imagine #footballer x reader #footballer x you

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Forgotten Queen comes to see Nikola, Jack, and Raiden to see how things are liked for their time while wearing her more modest clothing yet it's revealing as she wore in her diplomatic meeting and battle as she show cleavage and back

And her son is with her both bio and adopted as they wear nice middle easterner clothing fit for a prince

With curiosity she asked if they show her what women wear in their time, and to say she looks good in anything in any time period of clothing

-It started off with a bit of curiosity, mainly due to the reactions of the three men that you have grown close with, who would always get a little flustered whenever they would see you in the clothes you wore.

-You didn’t see anything wrong with the clothes you were wearing, they were the same ones you always wore, but then again, you came from different cultures.

-Raiden didn’t mind your clothes, as he was rather perverted, but he was respectful towards you; Jack and Nikola were the shy boys.

-This is what made you curious about the fashion of women during their time when they were alive, and you reached out to them, inquiring about visiting to learn.

-This is what started your mini traveling tour, going to the different pantheons to visit your friends, and you were pleasantly surprised when you arrived at Raiden’s place to see Nikola and Jack waiting there as well.

-Your son and Zerofuku also came with you, both wearing clothes similar to your own, middle eastern attire, but of a time period they couldn’t exactly place.

-You had gained a lot of stares, as you were wearing a more modest outfit, the one you wore for formal meetings with other dignitaries, but your back was exposed and there was a long slit down your front, exposing your cleavage as well as slits in both sides of your dress, showing off your legs.

-Raiden had prepared a formal kimono, so you could inspect the different patterns and fabrics, which was enjoyable to you, but when some women entered, going to help you dress, you were a little more thrown off, “Are there always so many layers?”

-Raiden and the two women couldn’t help but laugh, finding it amusing as it did feel a little hard to walk around, you felt smothered, and you were stunned that many kimonos and women’s outfits had many more layers.

-When you walked out, you were surprised to see everyone else in men’s outfits, including your sons, who were running around, feeling much less hindered than you were.

-Your son was bright eyed looking up at you once you walked out, “You look so pretty mama!” you couldn’t help but smile before Raiden sent you a playful wink, “Y/N always looks pretty!” which earned him a warm smile from you.

-Jack went next and he prepared outfits for everyone, including your sons, who both commented that they felt weird being in suits, but they did like the capes. Raiden was also feeling a bit uncomfortable, as it was something he wasn’t used to.

-Jack had prepared an assistant to help you dress, mainly to help with the corset and the men couldn’t help but laugh when they heard you through the door, “I asked you to show me fashion, Jack, not torture me!”

-When you walked out, wearing a dress that fit your body very well, the corset laced tightly, the frilled skirts and the long sleeves of your dress, with lace and bows adorning you, you felt rather uncomfortable and very restricted, how were you supposed to fight in this?!

-Jack pecked the back of your hand, giving you a small smile, “You look lovely my dear.” You smiled softly at him and Zerofuku brought a matching parasol over for you, “Here mama!”

-Raiden and you both learned how you could fight in this outfit, when he made a comment, due to the bustle in your dress, about your butt looking bigger, and you whacked him over the head with your parasol, much to the amusement of the others.

-Nikola went last, and surprisingly, of the three, his was the most comfortable, it was still very modest and covering, with a high waisted skirt, a high collared top with long sleeves, but there was no corset and you felt like you could at least breathe.

-Nikola felt a bit shy, seeing you wearing the clothes of his own time, you looked stunning, and he managed to tell you that, while red faced, which made you smile warmly.

-Once back in your own dress, you couldn’t help but sigh softly, feeling less restricted and free.

-It had been a fun experience for you and your boys, seeing the different clothes from different cultures and time periods, but all in all, there’s nothing like the comforts of home.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror jack the ripper #ror nikola tesla #ror raiden #ror zerofuku

[spaceflower07]

Okay so yall saw his bodyguard/assassin clothes, now for his post-coronation clothes (its blurry from afar but if you click on it its clearer)

the jewel got messed up HDGJSHJD and did i use the genshin model as a base pose? yes, because i can

And this is them side by side!

You'll notice Alfred's is more modern and detailed, reflecting how he is the one advancing the kingdom in technological ways (hence the robotic looking gloves), and it being a suit shows how he is the one handling diplomatic/foreign relations as he is the more charismatic of the two. On the other hand, Ivan's outfit is more subtle yet traditionally regal, reflecting how he is the one keeping the kingdom grounded to its culture and traditions and not letting them become too absorbed with the future, remembering to honor the past as well. His being a military hussar jacket also shows how he is the more ruthless(?) one, handling military and surveillance around the kingdom. I also wanted Alfred to be in clothes he can move more easily in, because true to his roots as a commoner, he moves in a fun and playful way that didn't indicate at all he was royalty. He's also more active (belligerent LMAO) because of his past as an assassin, while Ivan is the more elegant one.

also height difference because yes

#hws hetalia #hws america #hetalia #hws russia #hetalia america #cardverse #cardverse spades #cardverse america #cardverse russia #rusame #queen alfred #king ivan #can you see the character development from when he was just a bodyguard #look at that smile #aph rusame #hetalia rusame #hws rusame