#and i go into the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror and i don't recognize myself

[d1s1ntegrated]

bae i’m BEGGING for more nasty freak dabi, shits got me acting up i swearrrr! honestly i’m not in ask box often so i don’t have anything in mind for you- but i’m in love with how you write his character!!! 🪐🪐

ykw hell yeah. thank u for the ask 🪐!

love bites- dabi (t. todoroki)

4.6k words; crossposted to ao3

aka- five times dabi got off on blood, and one time he didn't.

cw: not beta read, apologies :,) ** afab reader, language, blood, s&m (mostly masochism), graphic depictions of wounds/violence, blood kink, gross stuff, menstruation/period sex, angst, hurt/comfort, awful medical practices lol, slight trigger warning for the last one im sorry.

**speaking of, if anyone wants to be a beta reader, do lmk. ---> also, message or inbox me to be added to a taglist!

~ inspo from this post ! and my previous insatiable dabi post :) ~

as always- nsfw 18+; MDNI <3

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

one: staples

"does that hurt?"

"it's fine, sweetheart, just a scratch." dabi wipes the blood from his chin as it trickles from the seam near his mouth. he looks at the blood staining his thumb with a disinterested shrug before dragging his tongue against it. he cracks a half-smile as you stare at him, eyes with concern. he brushes his long fingers against his seam again, finding the loose staple and yanking it from his skin with a small snap, causing you to flinch with a churning stomach.

"ack, fuck, warning next time please" you exclaim as you turn your back, feeling a bit squeamish from the visceral act.

his response is a tight laugh, and you turn back as he flicks the staple onto the floor. it lands with a soft "tink" near the door, you can still see the metal shine against the dingy wood of the bar.

his face drips blood steadily, leaving soft drops on his worn jeans. it creates the smallest little wet spot on his thigh, the color barely visible with the flickering bulb above you. he wipes his face again with a "tch", and stands up slowly, kicking the stool behind him.

"where are you going?" you follow behind him, and he turns into the bathroom and smacks his hand against the switch to turn the light on. he hums along with the old fluorescent as he rifles through the medicine cabinet, grabbing iodine and his stapler with an irritated huff as he shoves a new strip into the little gun. he sits on the toilet seat and nods to you, "gimme that". you grab the little bottle and open it, hissing under your breath as if this was hurting you more than him. it might've, actually, considering his reaction was nothing more than slightly inconvenienced.

the little dropper floods the nauseating orange liquid into his separated skin, and he breathily chuckles at your furrowed brows and grimacing mouth. he stands up, taking the bottle from you curtly as he examines the rest of the staples in the mirror.

"fuck, they're all fucked up," he drags his finger against the next two staples, moving them around. "see how they're loose?" he explains, looking at you in the mirror, "they gotta come out or they'll get infected too. like having too big of a piercing in a healed hole, more room for bacteria 'nd shit". he's actually really patient about explaining all of this to you, considering his typical short-nature and "ill do it myself" attitude.

you frown with uneasiness as he grabs the clamp from the cabinet and hands them to you. "you wanna do it for me this time?"

its not every day your boyfriend offers you to rip his face open, but it is sometimes. and it still never, ever gets easier. in a way, it's sweet. in a really off-putting, creepy, masochistic way. you've watched him fix them before, but you've never done it yourself. you take the clamp and he sits back down, placing a warm hand on your waist as you grab his face.

your own blood wasn't an issue. hell, most blood wasn't an issue. but this?

pressing the clamp against the first staple, you shake and squeeze your lips together. he reaches and steadies your hand with his own, laughing to himself. "easy now, don't fuck up or i'll lose this nice smile".

"yeah, like that's so reassuring. shut up and let me try". you take a deep breath, and with a quick grip, the staple bends and you're able to slide it out. the skin opens a bit more and your chest tightens, biting your tongue as you clamp the last one and snap it out quicker, trying to ignore the blood beginning to seep through the epidermis and into his cauterized scars. he doesn't even twitch at the sensation, and instead hands the iodine back to you.

"hey, not so bad. easy part's over" he exhales as you drop the antiseptic into the now-gushing hole in his cheek.

"don't make me staple your face, please" you laugh nervously as you wipe up the blood with a cotton pad, and he shrugs.

"get used to it, this happens a lot and you know it. consider it a sweet perk of dating a guy who really, really likes piercings."

"fuck you" you drag out the words as you pick up the stapler. you breathe in deeply as you press the small gun up to the loose skin.

"no, like i showed you, pinch the skin" he reminds you, and you groan again- this is the price you pay for fucking the hot emo.

"what a sick joke," you lightheartedly complain as you replay the many times you've watched him do this. pinch, press, snap.

as you clamp the first new piercing into his face, he lets out a soft hiss. you stop, but he shakes his head, "keep going".

the second staple leads him to grab onto your waist again, digging his fingers into your soft skin. "fuck" he whispers out, his eyes fluttering shut. looking down at him like this, you'd think he was getting the best head of his life.

the third staple reaps the most reward, as you clamp down for the last time, he moans out, his mouth falling slightly agape at the pinching sensation. you don't have time to put the stapler down as he pulls you into his lap, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip through a messy kiss.

"mmf, dabs, what the hell?" you ask through crazed kisses, and he tangles his fingers into your hair. "might just pull a few more out so you can patch me back up," he whispers hotly against your rising chest.

whatever had gotten into him that night was just the start of probably the best sex you'd ever have.

two: bar fight

"man, FUCK you," dabi spits at tomura's feet, he had gone too far. the rest of the league was silent now- and dabi's rising fury was palpable.

the two had gotten a little too drunk, a little too lippy with each other, and a little too excited about being drunk and lippy. it was a common occurrence as of late, what with the stress of the war on heroes just beginning to take flight, constantly being forced to hide, fight, and strategize. needless to say, the drinks were needed.

so when tomura said just the right thing at just the right time, dabi was quick to respond.

"fuck ME? fuck YOU, you two-toned, half-life, COD-zombie reject!"

it wasn't even the insult that got dabi to sink his fist into tomura's rosy cheek. it was the snickering from twice, sitting in the corner of the room.

tomura stumbles back a bit before recoiling and smashing his gloved fist into dabi's nose with a resounding cracking noise, sending the taller man back. he snaps back with a shake of his head, wiping the gushing blood from his face.

"boss or not, i'm gonna nuke your loser ass." dabi laughs before sprining himself onto tomura, the both of them falling to the floor in an array of punches and shouts.

this also wasn't an uncommon thing- they fought like brothers almost, complete with the awkward "making up" phase where one would nod to the other at the end and that'd be the best apology either could muster. but this fight was different, bloodier, more aggressive than normal. both were too shitfaced to even feel the pain, and neither of them were registering the damage they were inflicting. so you, tugging on twice's t-shirt, stood up and dragged the blond with you to break them up. twice, between panicking and cheering, managed to get a grip on tomura, yanking the spindly man off off dabi, who was laid out on the ground with a wide grin, blood staining his teeth and lips.

"cmon dabi," you pull him by his arms, stumbling a bit from his unsteadiness. you manage to drag him to your bedroom, kicking the door behind you before he collapses onto the bed, wiping his blood onto your duvet.

"oh fucks sake, i just washed those." you complain, holding a towel in your hands that you were gonna give to him. no need for that, i guess.

he returns your complaint with a hiccuping smile, a shit-eating grin that screams victory- you let him have it. though, honestly, no one really won.

"that little cumsock broke my nose" he says nasally as he pinches the bridge of his, yes, very crooked nose.

shaking you head, you pick the towel back up and hand it to him.

"bite this," you instruct, as you pinch his nose bridge. since the whole "stapling his face" incident, coupled with the various times you'd dealt with the rest of the league's wounds, sicknesses, etcetera, this was a breath in the wind for you. he bites into the fabric, giggling, and you count down. on one, you snap the bones back into place with a hilted inhale, and he moans gutturally through the towel. he gags on the thick material in his mouth and spits it out, and you take a clean corner to wipe up the blood.

"fuck me, come here" he says with a growl to his words as he yanks your shirt above your head. you could still smell and taste the blood on him, but as he mashes his lips on yours, it doesn't seem to matter anymore.

three: tattoo

"christ, you're digging into my skin" dabi sucks air in through his teeth. spinner curls his top lip in, his nostrils flaring as he takes his foot from the pedal of the machine.

"sorry," spinner dips the needle back into the ink cap while starting the machine back up. it's a shoddy little setup, found outside a parlor. there were originally no needles or ink, just the machine with the little case- it took months to scrounge up the money to finally buy ink and needles that weren't expired or deemed too unsafe by spinner to use for tattooing. for a few months, he'd been practicing on various citrus fruits and even himself, but the pigment of the ink wasn't right for his scales, and now he was on another search entirely.

other than that, spinner's artwork looked good. he had already tattooed jin a few times, here and there, with little scratchers on his forearms and ankles. but he needed more practice, and more canvases. tomura had agreed only on the condition that it was exactly what he designed- which was way out of spinner's league right now. some extravagant line work of tomura's well-loved family hands, complete with smoke shading. toga was told she would have to wait to turn 18, cause she wanted little chibi portraits of ochacko and izuku- not exactly a choice any of the league approved of. atsuhiro didn't want to "ruin his complexion" just yet. so many canvases, so little opportunity.

dabi, on the other hand- what bare skin he had left, he loved covering in ink. he already had a few self-given stick n' pokes, but when that machine came in, it was like heaven in metal form. dabi had decided, after night one, that there would be no more "normal" skin to deal with. bugs, symbols, words, you name it, and it had a place on his body. so when he asked shuichi to tattoo your initial on the left side of his chest, shuichi was elated.

the sting of the needle was nothing compared to the fire he felt burning for you.

he didn't tell you anything, so when you got back and dabi's laid out on the couch, shirtless, a shaky gecko hanging over him with a giant tattoo machine buzzing into your boyfriend's skin, safe to say you were at least curious. and when it was all said and done, and the raised skin beat with his heart, the initial of your name stood in a striking print.

"it's gonna bleed a bit, just don't bump it-" spinner starts, and dabi nods with a grin. "i know, lizard, ive got about a hundred already. looks good". his teeth shine, and much to spinner's chagrin, he nods and begins to clean, sparing dabi from the aftercare speech. the blood trickles down from the irritation, only about an inch down his chest. you reach forward, swiping it away with your thumb as he grins widely.

he reaches and pulls you forward, falling back onto the couch with you straddling him. he takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each of your fingers and lapping the blood off your thumb gently. "you like it, baby?" he looks back down at the tattoo as it bleeds slowly, thanking spinner in that moment for having a nervous hand still.

he doesn't give you time to respond as his fingers coil into your hair, pressing warm lips to yours. "mm, mhm-" you nod through kisses, his tongue curling against yours. he grabs at your thighs, sliding his hands to your ass as he stands back up, carrying you down the hall.

he doesn't stop kissing you until your laid on his bed, the scent of cigarettes and his cologne puffing out of the mattress. through giggles and heavy breaths, he slips your shirt over your head and drags his tongue from your navel, to your chest, all the way to your jawline. he places himself between your legs, grinding into you with a shaky exhale.

he settles himself back onto his knees, reaching for the button of his jeans. as he undoes them, he palms at his cock through his clothes, all while watching you beneath him with full eyes.

the tattoo catches your eye again as you watch the little bead of blood again. you reach up and swipe at it again, placing your finger directly to your tongue as he watches. his breath hitches as he fights his jeans, yanking them down quickly to reveal himself, already throbbing and leaking.

you wrap a leg behind his back, pulling him into you to kiss him, his cock pressing against your belly. his kisses grow more sloppy and rough as he nips at your lips, getting off on the taste of his blood on them.

"you, you..." he bites your ear, tongue swirling just under the lobe against your neck, "beautiful," he grabs at your chest and thumbs at the hardened bud under your bra. "i love you, i love you," he mumbles as you pull your pants down, and he shoves them completely off and pulls your underwear to the side. "beautiful girl," he thrusts into his hand, rubbing at your clit with his tip. "that's why it's your name," he presses into you slowly, throwing his head back as you clench around him already. "no one else's—fuck". he bottoms out as he fills you completely, your body pulling him in.

you whimper as he begins thrusting in quick short movements. he pulls completely out, rubbing at your clit again with his tip, "need my pretty girls' cum all over me". he sucks on your collar as your head turns to the side, completely overtaken by the rushed heat coiling inside of you. he pulls your bra down, and bites down gently on your nipples as he continues to tease you. as you begin to tremble, he smiles euphorically, feeling your hips buck up. "c'mon, baby, cum for me" his voice rises a bit in desperation, and your eyes flutter closed as he brings you closer.

"dabi, 'm so close,"

he continues working his hand around his cock, making sure it doesn't lose contact with your overly-sensitive clit as you near break.

"i, fuck, dabi" you plead as your hands reach for him, nails dragging down his arm. he moans, a shiver coursing through him as you begin to whimper and whine.

as the tension finally snaps, and your body floods with the ripple of your orgasm, he shoves himself back into you without pause, completely filling you as your walls tighten around him, sending him over the edge. his cock sputters and the warmth coats inside of you as he throbs and twitches, the both of you shaking.

the next night, he found the tattoo of his first initial, a secret he shared with only you, on the inside of your wrist, freshly done by shuichi earlier that morning.

four: bite

"fuuuuck, yeah," dabi sucks in a breath through his teeth as you sink yours into his neck. "again, harder," he begs with his eyes rolled back.

"dabs, i dont want to hurt you-"

"i don't give a shit, you wanna bite me, babe? then make it mean somethin'".

the scarred man throws his head back with ecstasy, anticipating the pain. he coils warm fingers into your hair, holding your head close against him as he pumps slowly inside of you from below. the stretching pain has yet to subside, which is what led to the first bite. but now, dabi was insatiable- the sharp pinch of his skin between your canines had him twitching and moaning desperately into your hair.

you nip at him again, right against his jawline. his scars feel different against your tongue, but not at all bad, as you lick against his bone and taut, stapled skin.

he growls in your ear as you pull your mouth away from him, promptly yanking you into a rough kiss. he grabs at either side of your hips, nestling himself deeper inside of you now. between kisses, he pants, "i said, harder. you got softer".

you moan softly at his complaint, but shake your head with what little composure you had left. "m' teeth are sharp, dabi- hah- i don't wanna break skin,"

he licks against your earlobe and ruts into you again. "fucking do it then, break skin-" another thrust, increasing in force. "make me bleed. you wanna bite my staples, baby?" he offers to you with a curled, sadistic smile, "you wanna rip them out with your teeth?"

your lack of an answer isn't well-received, as he digs his nails into your thighs and grinds against your sopping core. your head feels so heavy, you have no choice to rest it on his shoulder as he gets faster.

as his speed increases, so does his breathing- and be begins to lose control inside of you, unable to pace himself against your already-sensitive walls.

he thrusts hard once, his hips jerking up with a snap. his tip shoves against your cervix, sending a shooting pain through your womb, up through your stomach. you shout with a squeak, and sink your teeth right above his clavicle, directly into his trapezius. you feel the pop of skin tearing in your mouth, blood flooding into your mouth. you had managed to get past scar tissue, leaving a couple of staples loose. he groans out loudly, and you feel his sticky seed as his fluttering moans match the tempo of his erratic ruts.

"fuck, fuck, oh my god, sweetheart, fuck, i can't stop," he borderline cries into your ear as you let the blood drip down your chin and into the back of your throat. you clench around him as he chokes out sobs, soaking his nearly-spent cock, whining out his name as you pull your mouth from him.

he grabs your face with a free hand as he keeps bouncing you, letting you ride out the euphoric feeling, and licks his blood from your mouth with a guttural moan.

"my fucking god, you're a freak," he sucks on your bottom lip before glancing to his shoulder. "you really fucked me up, baby". his words don't hurt, though- because you can feel him hardening inside of you again.

your face pales as you watch the blood drip down his arm, but he redirects your face to meet his.

"i'm fine. pain receptors are basically fried. it feels good," he kisses your nose gently as he holds you.

"do that again though, and i might make you have my babies".

five: cycle

his favorite week was here. you were clingier than usual, begging him to warm your abdomen with his hands, staying put through most of the night with his arms around you when you usually tossed and turned. you even had more of that bite he loved so much, that attitude that entranced him in the first place. and when you weren't basically on top of him, you were under him, as he fucked you slower than usual, softer.

he loved when you were on your period.

"let me fuck the pain away, baby," he coos in your ear as you step out of the shower with him, head spinning.

you let him take your hand, guiding you to his bed, where he had already neatly laid a towel down.

he picks you up and sets you down kindly, his wet hair dripping down his face. it was longer like this, the choppy layers set against his forehead. this was when he looked most beautiful, you thought, he seemed the most gentle this way.

he spreads your legs, tossing his towel to the floor. his cock slaps his tummy, with soft white curls trailing down to his shaft. his piercings glint in the dimmed streetlamps, the shitty blinds doing little to filter light.

he gets on his knees on the floor, positioning himself between your legs. he can smell the iron in your core, and his mouth waters at the mere idea.

you try to pull him away, face flushing with a deep red across your cheeks as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh. "no, you don't have to, i'm bleeding, that's not-"

he responds by pressing his tongue against your clit, sliding it in between your folds, until he can bury it inside of you. the tip of his nose brushes your clit, and your head falls back with an exasperated gasp. your fingers coil into his black hair, his tongue working slowly as it flits inside of you.

he moans against your heat from the the drops of blood on his tongue, swallowing thankfully as his licks get more rapid, his tongue sharpening to a point against your sensitive clit.

he eats like a starved dog, lapping up every bit of you he can with a shaky grin and weak breaths. he loses all self control, as he fists his neglected cock with a rough hand, pumping it wildly as he drinks you like wine.

every flick of his tongue drives you closer and closer, and he tastes the arousal coating his bloodied tongue with a panting moan.

your hand clenches in his hair, and he speeds up, grazing his teeth and sucking at the bundle of nerves until you spill out into his willing mouth. he moans against your skin again, vibrating your twitching core, as he paints his hand in a thick layer of pearly cum, soft "ah"s falling from his pretty lips.

he stands slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"still cramping, love?" he asks with a smirk, and you can't respond coherently, your legs shaking like a cheap massage chair.

"tsk, tsk. i'll have to do more, hmm?" he lines himself up with your puffy lips and slips inside the warmth with a bloody grin.

six: rebirth

you hated when the league went out without you. although you had begged time and time again, touya would never let you leave. his excuse was that he needed someone to patch him up afterwards- but you knew it was more than that. he kept you safe, doing his best to not worry you too much.

tonight was different, though. you could feel it. when tomura disappeared for months, you could feel it, too. the league fell apart and came back together, patched up like quilts- nothing made sense, but it was still them. touya was still him, for the most part. but you knew it wouldn't last long.

the first sign was how much gentler he was with you. how slowly and passionately he'd kiss you, his usual hunger and brevity seemingly replaced with tenderness and prayer.

and sometimes late at night, when it was just you two awake, sprawled on a ratty mattress in the new hideout, he'd whisper everything he loved about you. he'd kiss your head, rub your back, and promise you that you would always be okay.

he came home later and later now, eyes sunken in and frame thinning out even more as the league in its entirety evolved. you'd catch him drinking and leaving a shot out for jin, and magne. you would wake up to find him crying, blood seeping from his scarred eyes in silence, placing an curse eternal on keigo, who had betrayed them all. his voice was angrier when he spoke with tomura. he was shorter with everyone but you.

everything was quieter, and you forced yourself to accept it with the knowledge that it would never be loud again.

touya came home as the sun began to rise, face stony and eyes a muted, pale blue. without a word, you follow him to the bathroom of the dingy base, med kit in hand.

he doesn't speak as you wipe the blood from his cheeks. he doesn't even hum as you re-align his skin and staple it.

he pulls his shirt from his skin, mouth pulled into a thin line as he has to tear it off his chest, the sticky, dried blood melding the material to his peeling skin.

"what happened?" you pour iodine over the wound, and he lolls his head back.

"don't worry about it". he keeps his words short, and you refill the medical stapler. you counted the missing ones- at least fourteen, leaving the underside of his chest separated, the subcutaneous layer showing boldly and viscerally. you peel the gloves back onto your hands as you hand him a towel to bite. he takes it slowly, but still makes no sound as you pinch the skin together.

you'd gotten used to nights like this one, too. nights where he'd go out without a whisper and return to you like a corpse, mutilated and broken. but he made not a single noise, not a grunt nor moan, as the last of the staples re-pierced his flesh with "cl-tck"s.

he presses a kiss to your lips slowly, and if feels like the end.

"i'm sorry", he whispers to you when its all said and done. "i'm sorry, and i love you. thank you for putting up with me all the time".

you brush his dirty hair out of his face and hold him close against you, blood staining the front of you, but you don't care. his warmth seeps under your cold skin and your eyes burn like his hands.

"how much longer do we have"? you choke out, your head tucked into his neck. he takes a slow breath.

"don't worry about that now. it's all good, baby. just us right now. nothing else. look at me," he keeps his breathing steady, and you do your best to maintain eye-contact through swollen, blurry blinks.

"no matter who i become, or what happens from here, i'll be yours," he taps his chest, the healed tattoo on his upper pec still dark and sharp. his lips curl softly, a weak attempt at genuineness. "i love you. i love you, and i didn't think i could love. i'll always love you, okay?"

the news stations the next day are littered with photos and clips of dabi, now touya to the whole world, his beautiful blue eyes burning bright with the same passion he looked at you with. and you wait for him to come home again, and every night after that.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

[torturedbrat]

— 2nd Chapter: Not over you.

"I can't escape, I can't erase you."

★ Fem!reader x Bill Kaulitz 2016.

★ Tags: Angst, fluff.

| Summary: Bill gets back to his roots; he leaves the city in which he had fallen in love for the first time, trying to forget his now ex-girlfriend—But soon he understands he's not over her yet.

• Bill narrates;

I've left California—moved away from what I've loved most in my life... the excuse? that I did it just for her, to not dig in the wound any further. In reality? I did it to get away of it all, exactly as selfish as it sounds.

I try and search for a meaning, for something that would keep me alive through this insanity, but when I close my eyes she's all I see.

I wish I could lose my other me; this has really messed me up this time.

While I was saying my last goodbye to her, picking up my last few things from her place; I repeated in my head over and over that I wouldn't regret this, none of it. But now it's been months of this back and forth of feelings that I can't even put a label on myself.

'I need to put an end to this.'

I've never felt this way before.. lost, you could say. I can't even recognize me—yeah, when I was with her it wasn't easy, but at least I knew what I wanted, her love.. her warmth. Being able to have someone to go to when I felt like I wanted to hide away from the world.

I need something to ground me, someone, whatever it is. While I was in my high, promising myself that everything would be fine—I've hung in the club on weekends, gotten home with different girls every night, hooked up with them.. but right after, they'd leave and there was nothing else behind that.

It felt empty, far from what I've been looking for: to feel the same way I've felt with her before everything got this fucked up. Because no matter what, I still search for that feeling in someone who isn't her.

Even though, as much as I try I can't get involved emotionally with anyone else. 'Cause everytime, the graphic memory of that beautiful smile appears at the back of my mind as well as all our time spent together.

And god knows I've felt guilty, like it was something I wasnt supposed to be doing, like I was betraying her.. she was still sacred to me somehow.

But I can't get home to her, and I definitely can't face my broken heart.

I stand in front of the bathroom sink, the dim lights and the foggy mirror making it hard for me to look at myself—my hand wipes it down, the clinking sound of my golden rings against the glass.. and I take a deep breath.

'I need a change' I talk to my reflection. That was it, I had to try to get rid of everything that was linked to her, and that also meant myself at some point.

I run a hand through my silver locks, while with the other, I quickly reach for the electric shaver that I've been eyeing all week.. so I plug it on, taking a deep breath before I make it land on my head after hearing the buzzing noise coming out of it when I pressed the little button—I don't even hesitate, I know what I've got to do.

From one moment to another, I see big lumps of hair starting to fall into the sink in front of me.

My eyes wet, I don't know if it's from the despair I feel or how angry I am at myself.. but I never stop, not till I have no sight of who I was before.

Right after, I have the need to light a cigarette; I make my way back into the room, with my shaky hands I grab the pack laying on the vanity—and I let out the smoke after one long drag, and for the first time I think I'm satisfied with what I see..

And no vision of her.

Inspired by the 'Not over you' MV. For a better experience, listen to the song while you're reading.

[ I made this, everything written here are original ideas by me. ]

[lights-at-night]

gender euphoria moment ! rare morgan w

[poisonandpages]

Is this what the kids call an "accidental closet cosplay"?

[yourcomputerr]

there is some weird as fuck noise happening outside girl its nearly 4am can we please not

[thetriangletattoo]

.

[selvepnea]

A strange shirt sort of dream?

[neverendingford]

.

[loverboybrightsideghost]

computer define underdog

[twilightakiishi]

i’ve been giving myself haircuts since i was 12 and kokonoi hates it

[viaviavie]

OPERATION CINDERELLA-SABOTAGE [HEARTSLABYUL]

in which he rescues you from your very short-lived wedding.

SUMMARY: due to a massive misunderstanding, a prince from royal sword academy is set to wed you at sunset. thankfully, your un-princely crush is here to save the day and crash this lovely wedding.

PAIRINGS: everyone x fem reader (separately)

WARNINGS: they're being a bit dramatic, characters are 18+, makeout (cater)

NOTES: this is echoes the ghost bride event, but listening to this prompted me to write out this scenario instead. i made this for shits and giggles, so have fun with this!

HEARTSLABYUL | SAVANACLAW | OCTANIVELLE | SCARABIA | POMEFIORE | IGNIHYDE | DIASOMNIA

There was no way you would be able to say 'no' now, not when there were hundreds of Royal Sword Academy students and even more members of a random royal family whose last names you cannot recall waiting outside that door. Aside from a completely oblivious Neige and Che'nya who was nowhere to be found, there was no one you could really ask for help to get you out of this mess.

You turn to your supposed betrothed with frantic eyes, shaking your head wildly. "I already told you, I'm not the one you danced with at the ball!" Your hisses fell on deaf ears. That damned prince from Royal Sword Academy was too busy making the 'goo-goo' eyes at you to even register what you were saying.

"I just happened to have the same shoe-size!"

Damn it, why did you have to agree to fitting some missing girl's shoe?!

Pierce Charmant, possibly the most delusional guy you have ever met in Twisted Wonderland, clung onto your calf with a stubborn expression. He had no intentions of letting you go, and neither did his five other guards that had blocked your way.

"You have to be her!"

"You don't even know my name!"

You were really counting on Grim to get someone, anyone, to stop this wedding. Yet, as you are walked down the aisle by the fair Neige, you are already planning out a divorce settlement plan. Based on the number of guests here, who had filled this entire venue from top to bottom, you would have guessed that this prince was rather rich. If it was to be an unhappy marriage, at least your wallet would be more than compensated.

You managed to convince this prince to send invitations to Night Raven College, but that didn't matter. He was so excited and in a hurry to marry, that your friends barely had any time to rescue you! There must have been so much traffic with the mirrors that they couldn't even use them! There was just no way that they'd make it in time now.

And so you consign yourself to readying some divorce papers within the next few weeks, and planning out how to avoid any more interactions with this guy while you were married.

You stood at the chapel's base, your expression exasperated than ever as you kept darting your gaze to the door. You've already tripped over the aisle a few times, fumbled the scripted vows, and even called for a bathroom break or two to stall.

And now comes the big moment that you were so desperately trying to avoid.

"Would you, Pierce Charmant, take the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, as your lawfully wedded wife?"

The prince smiles so sickly sweet, and its the look of a man who won't change his mind.

"I do."

You grimace as the officiant faces you, just as blind to your annoyed expression.

"Would you, the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, take Pierce Charmant as you lawfully wedded husband?" They didn't even use your name!

You pause, the image of your crush flashing before your eyes.

You would never see him again if you let yourself get married. Defiance returns to your face as you suck in a deep breath, ready to deal with the consequences of rejecting this delusional prince in front of hundreds of people.

"I—"

"I object!"

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

"Grim, please explain to me why I received an invitation to the Prefect's wedding... I am calm, Trey. I would just prefer to know the details before I go and fetch her myself... and may I ask one more thing? Yes, hoW IN THE WORLD DID THE PREFECT GET KIDNAPPED LIKE THIS?! DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO CALM ME DOWN, CATER. I AM PERFECTLY CALM."

Riddle calmly asked about your whereabouts, and it does not take him long to immediately get to work. As one of the better respected housewardens among the roster, it was easier to ask for a few favors that could get him to that damned cathedral fast. However, as the traffic did pile up to get to this accursed wedding, Riddle finds himself on horseback.

He does have this awful crush on you, but it never really crosses his mind. Even as he holds certain feelings for you, it's at the back of his mind. Riddle values your autonomy, and this marriage was a massive red flag. Surely, you cannot have possibly agreed to such a thing. It was just not in your nature. You would have protested, and the fact that you are not back in campus means that something is preventing you from speaking your mind. Riddle really respects you in this aspect!

Still, the idea of you marrying some prince who barely knew it was absolutely absurd. Riddle won't allow it, he absolutely won't!

The doors were flung open with a loud thud, revealing a red-head in a suit. Much to your surprise, Riddle isn't burning red with a fiery rage and threatening to have everyone's head off. He's stomping towards you and your supposed groom, fist clenched as he throws out an arm out of anger. He doesn't seem too angry, but determined.

"ENOUGH! SHE WILL BE COMING BACK TO NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE WITH ME NOW."

Okay, maybe you were wrong about him not being angry.

His voice echoes throughout the entire cathedral, followed by several flinches at his sheer volume. Immediately, the crowd by the rows inch back a bit further as he continues to march forward, ignoring the guards that seemed to hesitate to approach him. Pierce raises a brow, almost annoyed rather than fearful of this disturbance.

"There seems to be a misunderstanding. You see, the Prefect is going to be married to me. You can sort out your affairs after the ceremony is over." Well, that didn't seem to help one bit, judging by how Riddle seemed to fume even further at this statement.

The housewarden comes to a halt, sucking in a sharp breath to calm his temper. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to frighten you.

He breathes out your name, sending a stutter through your heart.

"Do you truly want to marry this man?"

It almost makes you swoon, the way Riddle looks at you so earnestly as he asks for some affirmation. Had it been any other scenario, you would've taken your time to bore your eyes into his and study his expression. Instead, you shake your head wildly, racing down the aisle until you have hidden yourself behind him.

Riddle has the nerve to smirk at the shocked Prince. "And here, I thought princes had a code of conduct when it came to their ladies." He turned back to you with an assuring look. "I'll take you home, Prefect."

Truly, Riddle had no intentions of playing around. He had only one objective, to get you out of here. Just as he turns around to escort you out of the cathedral, a pair of guards had blocked the exit.

"No, I cannot let you leave!" Pierce cried out, ready to give chase. "Prefect, please! Give me a chance. You cannot possibly be ready to leave me for... this guy!"

Riddle's eye twitches as he cranes himself to look at the prince. "You have some nerve!" He clicks out, clenching his fists once more. Everyone feels the cathedral heat up, those closer to the aisles feeling beads of sweat form upon their temples. Even as you looked at Riddle so gently, a part of you was somewhat grateful that he was sticking up for you.

Just as his top was about to blow, you muster the will to tug on Riddle's sleeve. As quickly as his reddened face came, it disappears when he glances back at your soft expression. Huffing out a heavy sigh, Riddle clicks his tongue and marches towards the exit.

"Let's be on our way, Prefect. We shouldn't waste our precious time on these trifles."

Needless to say, no one really wanted to test the housewarden's patience as he escorted you out of that Cathedral. Riddle certainly doesn't waste time hoisting you onto his horse and galloping away, not giving the prince a second to try and retrieve you.

He grumbles about the entire ordeal, mostly questioning the absolute ridicule of the marriage. What kind of prince thinks he can get away with it? Riddle is certain to send a complain to Royal Sword Academy regarding their lessons on conduct if no one tries to stop him.

You could easily see Night Raven College from afar as you peeked from behind his tuft of red hair. Riddle is still rambling, a preferable alternative to losing his temper entirely. "That ruffian dares to marry you and has yet to learn your name! How uncouth!" He spat in absolute distaste, and he finds comfort in the way you giggle in agreement.

Riddle doesn't seem to take note of the way your arms are crossed around his middle, or maybe he does, and just chooses not to let his blush show. He cleared his throat, gripping the reigns a bit tighter. "You will find better suitors, Prefect. Just promise me that he wouldn't be so impulsive as that Prince."

TREY CLOVER

"Can you drive any faster, Deuce? No, I don't think we're late. Better safe than sorry! ... Suit, check. Speech, check. Myself, check. I've got everything in order, but... hah, I'd expect to do this type of thing a few years down the line, let alone object at a wedding at all. At least, it's the Prefect's wedding... That's such a weird thing to conceptualize at this point in time."

He really didn't have to be so dramatic about the entire thing, but Trey is really going all-out for this objection. Really, all he's done is seen movies where someone objects at a wedding and while he knows its entirely fictional, our boy here has to drive the point home; no one is marrying the Prefect today.

So that explains why he even bothered to dress up and rehearse a speech throughout the entire ride to the cathedral. He has Heartslabyul helping him out to secure an escape for you in case things went awry. Sure, Trey's Unique Magic won't come in handy but he's good with his words, and is relatively charismatic. He's earned that title of Vice Housewarden, after all.

All that preparation flies out the window when he sees you down the aisle, however.

"Trey?"

He's blinking profusely, almost flustered himself by how radiant you looked in that wedding dress. For a moment, Trey swears that he's had some sort of tunnel vision when all he seems to see is you. It strikes some envy in him when he reminds himself that this wasn't his wedding, and this wouldn't be yours either.

"Prefect..." Trey breathed out, struggling to recall the damn script he was supposed to follow. They are lost, just as he found himself lost in your sparkling gaze.

Screw the script, he was just going to have to wing this one.

He narrows his eyes onto the shocked prince, taking steps down that long carpet. "I've come to bring you back to Night Raven College."

Pierce raises a brow, glancing back at you and the intruder with suspicion. "On what grounds?" He questions snidely, uncertain of what to make of this new character. "If it is for anything trivial, then you may bother the Prefect later. You are obstructing a ceremony here, sir."

You recognize that dangerous glint behind Trey's eyes, and it only serves to make your heart race. Trey simply smirks, hiding away his hesitant exterior with a haughty farce. "I am afraid it cannot wait. I cannot allow the Prefect to be married without saying my piece."

He doesn't exactly know where all his bravado was coming from, but if he had to confess his feelings to you now, then so be it.

Trey looks at you, flashing a gentle yet sheepish smile. "Prefect, I fell for you. Hook, line, and sinker." You let out a dramatic gasp along with the onlookers, allowing a hand to fly to your parted lips. "I have harbored those feelings for a long time now, and I cannot bring myself to see you married without letting my heart be known."

Swallowing to himself, Trey's expression falters slightly, falling into one of softness. "Prefect, it is your happiness that I desire. No matter what happens, I will support your choice."

He didn't exactly have to tell you twice, not when you hurry yourself over to his side and latch onto his arm. You didn't have to feed his ego like that, but it isn't as if Trey had any room to complain.

Pierce is angered by the sight, glaring daggers at Trey with such envy and animosity. "Prefect, are you really leaving me on the altar?" As if to subtly annoy the prince even further, Trey hooks an arm around your waist and pivots you to turn. "It seems to be so, Prince Pierce. I fear that your beautiful bride will be stolen on this lovely afternoon."

You do not miss the way Trey smirks at your flustered expression. Just as he continues to walk you to the exit, you gritted your teeth at him. "Don't say such things!" You tell him as the heat rises to your cheeks. You hear him hum at your ear, followed by the slight press of his fingers on your hip.

"Why shouldn't I? You look beautiful in this dress," Trey murmurs in your ear, pushing the cathedral door open with his hand. "And I suppose that the prince hasn't coaxed this expression out of you. I almost feel sorry for him, that he never got the chance to see how lovely you are when you are putty in my hands."

Trey doesn't stop teasing you, even once you are back in Night Raven College. He wouldn't stop complimenting you either, aiming to have you as red as possible. He just can't help it. It's probably the high he got from confessing his feelings to you, or maybe it's the part where you're unsure if he was being sincere or not. Regardless, it was fun seeing you get all flustered because of him.

You are seated by the Heartslabyul's kitchen counter, snacking on some quick treats that Trey had prepared for you. He claims that it was a consolation for the fact you never got to taste your own wedding cake. Still clad in your grand wedding dress, you couldn't exactly care any less about the crumbs soiling the skirts. "You're no prince charming, Trey." You mentioned mid-bite, eyes glancing at the vice-housewarden who was seated across from you.

"What makes you say that?" He asks you with a slight smile, resting his chin on his palm as he shamelessly bored his gaze into yours.

You snort, rolling your eyes at his seemingly sweet disposition. "Prince Charmings don't tease the girls that they like until they're as red as Riddle." You huffed, digging your fork into the pastry. "You cruel man! You haven't stopped ever since you stole me from the prince!"

Trey chuckles, and you cannot keep yourself from gulping as he leaves his seat, sauntering towards you like a lion would his prey. "Oh? I suppose that I am no Prince Charming. I'm not a pure white knight either. If you think I am being cruel, I won't stop you, sweetheart."

Your heart stutters as he slides a finger underneath your chin, tilting your head so that your forced to look his way. Trey smiles at you, eyes twinkling with absolute mischief. "I highly doubt Prince Charmings steal kisses from their crushes either. For you, I will be kind. May I, sweetheart? I do not need your shoe size to know my feelings for you, at least."

CATER DIAMOND

"Gah, it just refreshed! They've just gotten past the walking part! Deuce, shortcut on your left! Sorry, I'm switching tabs between maps and the livestream! Prefect looks is such a cutie in that dress, it makes me so envious of the prince! Oh well, she really looks like she doesn't wanna be there anyways. I'm coming Prefect! I'll save you!"

There's just this image of Cater clinging onto Deuce on a blastcycle, raising his phone up for a signal as they attempt to maneuver their way through the streets. Everything just happened in such a rush, and Cater's scrambling to get to you. He isn't like Trey who bothers to prepare, but if anything, Cater will ramp up the dramatics to the maximum.

His real goal is just to get you out by any means necessary, and more preferably, without violence. So Cater will do what he does best; make a grand spectacle of the entire thing until the prince is forced to abdicate. Worst case scenario, he's going to drag you out the door and shove you onto the damn blastcycle.

If he has to play the part of your real paramour, then he hopes you'll forgive him. He's got the suit and the desperate look on his face ready to go!

Your jaw goes slack at the way Cater makes a dramatic run for the aisle, somewhat unused to that stricken expression on his face. You're almost concerned for him with the way he grips his knees, attempting to keep his balance as his eyes zone in onto yours.

"Prefect, you can't marry him!" It's too out of character of Cater, and you know better than to think he'd ever be this undone in public. "Is this what you really want?!" Before you could even reply, Pierce cuts in with a slight glare.

"And who are you to talk to my bride like that?" It is then when you catch wind of that mischievous glint in Cater's eye as he throws out his arm dramatically.

"I am the Prefect's sweetheart! Who are you to take my girlfriend like that?"

You have never heard the cathedral go so silent. You are utterly speechless, lips parted with absolute surprise. Clearly, judging by the way sweat had begun to form on the side of Cater's temple, you cannot help but think that this was all improv on his half.

Pierce turns to look at you, almost stricken by the ginger's declaration. "Prefect, is that true?" His voice trembles with fear. "Is that truly your... sweetheart?"

A part of you feels a bit sorry for what you were about to do, but you had to remind yourself that you had been dragged into a wedding on the same day you met this prince.

You are running now, sprinting to Cater's side as you clutch his hand in your own. Turning back to the scandalized prince, you nod firmly, playing along with the farce. "We've been dating for a long time now! And I'm in love with him!" You declare, sending gasps throughout the entire cathedral.

You glance up at Cater, mustering a smile across your features. "You came to save me!" He's almost surprised by the way you cling onto him even harder, but it only serves to sell the act even further. Cater smiles in return, holding you closely. "I'd never let you go, cutie. I love you too much to let you leap into the arms of another man."

Maybe the act is too good, too calculated. That is exactly what goes through your head as Pierce raises a brow in suspicion, narrowing his eyes onto the pair as if attempting to spot a mistake. "Is that so?" He murmurs until he crosses his arms, disbelief on his skeptical expression.

"Prove it."

Cater and you freeze up simultaneously, heads turning to glance at one another. He looked so caught off guard by Pierce's demand, and there's so many eyes on you both.

"You're both longtime sweethearts, right? I wouldn't want to split apart such a happy couple..."

Cater is staring at you, attempting to read your expression. It's difficult, especially when you look at him as your gaze gets even more glossy. He wouldn't want to do anything you didn't want to, and he's already readying himself to sprint out the door with you in tow.

"Prefect, you don't have to—mmph!"

You wasted no time in snaking your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against him with such boldness. He could feel you pour all your wants and longings into the kiss, the plush of your soft lips melding into his own. How could he not deny you his own affections, not as he cups your cheeks with his slender fingers and presses back against you.

He dares to go even further, pulling back for a slight gasp of air before diving back into you. Much to his delight, you aren't pulling away either, choosing to even entangle your fingers into his hair for leverage.

Then you hear a groan from the prince, followed by his pleas for you two to stop this display. It seems that he got the point now, at least.

Even as both of you exit the cathedral, Cater still maintains the image that he was your boyfriend. You don't exactly protest, and even then, it didn't seem to different to the way Cater had been treating you as a friend. He is still as clingy as ever, closing the physical proximities by having you hang onto his arm.

And you best believe he's snapping as much photos of you to commemorate the event. He's already updating his MagiCam account on his success, not to mention the pretty girl on his arm.

"Cater, what are you doing?" You asked, unable to hide the grin on your face as Cater sets up his camera against the tire of the blastcycle. You could see yourselves on the reflection of the device, followed by the grand beauty of the cathedral behind you both. He grins at you as he shifts at your side.

"What? It isn't everyday a cutie like you gets to look like a bride. We got the perfect backdrop!" He sings, sliding an arm around your waist as he strikes for a pose. You follow his lead, matching his energy with each shot.

"Careful! People are going to think we're dating for real!"

Cater smirks at you, leaning in closely to your ear with a sickeningly sweet tease. "Wanna make it official then, cutie? Can't have any random princes asking for your hand, not when you're dating me." He is not stranger to the way you blush, letting out a chuckle at the sight.

"Aw, cutie! Are you still thinking about the kiss? I didn't think you would be so bold about it." Pressing a quick peck on the cheek, he rests his chin on your head as he prepares for another pose. "Don't worry. CayCay's gonna initiate it next time!"

DEUCE SPADE

"Grim, which way?! I can't see the GPS! ... Don't I just have to go in there and yell 'I object'? It looks easy! I'll say it then drag Prefect out of there... Ha?! I need to prove that I have a good reason to get her out? Fine! I don't care, the Prefect needs me!"

Possibly the closest we will get to a legit Prince Charming. Perhaps Deuce is a bit on the rugged side, but he's possibly one of the most earnest and noble students from Night Raven College. He cares about you more than he cares about getting his feelings across, but that is not to say he won't be honest about it either in this confrontation.

He's not exactly sure on how to break up the ceremony. Grim and Ace are coaching him through what to say, and admittedly, the process seems too complicated. All he knows is that he has to run through those doors and convince the prince to not marry the Prefect by any means necessary.

"Deuce!"

He is the one to always come running at the sound of your name. Deuce had been someone you trusted during your stay here in Twisted Wonderland, and you never seemed to stop and think about just how attached that boy was to you. Sure, you held him closely as a friend and held affections for him, but the way he sprinted towards you was a testament to how much he cared.

"Prefect!" You are racing to meet him halfway, launching yourself into his chest. He catches you barreling into his suit, immediately wrapping his arms around you in a protective manner. Then he takes you by the soldiers, looking down at you with such concern and worry. "Are you hurt? Are you okay?" He fusses, earning a shy smile from you.

"I'm okay, Deuce. I'm okay."

"And what is the meaning of this?"

Catching sight of the infuriated prince, Deuce beckons you to stand behind him. Cerulean eyes narrow onto the groom with animosity, accompanied by the way his hands are itching towards his wand. "I can't let you marry her. The Prefect will be returning to Night Raven College with me." You can sense the nervousness in his tone, but Deuce remains firm in his words.

Pierce's eye twitches, and he scoffed in disbelief at Deuce's protective display. "I am afraid that cannot be possible. I am marrying the Prefect, and that is final." Clicking his tongue, Pierce rolls his eyes and holds out his hand for you to take. "Come, darling. I am not surprised that you have garnered the affections of an admirer, but I fancy you more than this one ever could."

Something in Deuce snaps as he lets out a cry.

"But I love her!"

You stiffen against his back, taken by surprise by Deuce's sudden confession. And the boy glares, and it almost so painful for Pierce to keep his stare, not when there was so much conviction and certainty behind Deuce's voice.

"I've loved her longer than you have, and known her much longer than that!" His voice cracks underneath the emotional turmoil bubbling within him. "Did you even stop to consider what she wants? Did you wonder if this wedding would make her happy in the first place?!"

You take note of how Deuce's fists are clenched pale, how his breaths had suddenly grown haggard. With a soft expression, you curl yourself onto his back, arms hugging him from behind in an attempt to placate him. His body stiffens against your hold, but he reaches to clasp your hands onto his own.

He is just thankful that you aren't seeing the way his eyes had begun to water at the thought of losing you entirely. "So please," He chokes out, expression twisted with a sort of agony.

"Please don't force her to marry you. She deserves so much more than that."

Thanks to the waterworks that Deuce had caused, the wedding was called off. There was just no way that the prince could marry you after Deuce poured his heart out to deter him from wedding you.

It's almost sweet, the way that Deuce lifts you onto the blastcycle and fixes the helmet onto your head. He encourages you to hold onto him tightly as he speeds away from the cathedral, all the more determined to settle you back into NRC.

By the time he's dropped you off at the Ramshackle Dorm, only then does he take the time to bask in how radiant you appeared in a wedding dress. Thinking about his crush in a wedding dress had never crossed Deuce's mind before, but this definitely gave him something to ponder about for the next couple of nights.

You are handing him the helmet, a shy smile surfacing across your features. "Thank you for saving me from that awful wedding." Deuce clears his throat, shifting his gaze as he takes the helmet from your grasp. "I didn't want you to do something you weren't willing to. It just isn't right."

He doesn't realize just how dry his throat as gotten when he cannot bring himself to keep his thoughts to himself. "I love you. I really do, and I wish I said it at a better time." He swallows to himself, letting the embarrassment burn into the back of his head as he recalls his declaration. It was only natural that 'like' would turn into 'love' after being your close confidant for this long, pining quietly during the months spent with you.

You cannot exactly blame him either, not when his feelings were entirely reciprocated. You shift on the balls of your heel, biting onto your lower lip.

And in a swift motion, you lean in to press a chaste kiss against Deuce's warm cheek. You pull away to bask upon the stunned expression on his face, only to give him a shy smile of your own.

"Would you be down to try confessing again tomorrow?"

ACE TRAPPOLA

"BAHAHAHAHA! THERE'S NO WAY THE PREFECT IS GETTING MARRIED. WHO WOULD EVER WANNA MARRY THE PREFECT? PFFFFT, GRIM, YOU'RE SERIOUSLY PULLING MY LEG HERE. YOU EVEN BROUGHT ME A FAKE INVITATION! AIN'T NO WAY THAT SHE— Oh... Wait, really? The wedding is happening right now? ... Oh."

Ace thought you were just messing him again for that one time he said that no one would ever be interested in you. He simply said that to discourage you from trying to pursue a relationship with anyone else, but he didn't mean for you to prove him wrong like that! He never believes Grim until Deuce, Riddle, and the rest of Heartslabyul receive invitations to a wedding that was meant to start in 3 hours.

This is the absolute worst time to be in denial about his feelings. The Prefect wearing a wedding gown is one thing, but another is the fact that the groom is some pompous prince from Royal Sword Academy. Does that guy seriously think he was your type? No way! Ace knows you better than anyone on this campus, so this guy can buzz off!

A part of him did think that you were serious about marrying this stranger. In all fairness, Crowley's allowance pales in comparison to whatever Mr. Money-Bags had over there. He wouldn't blame you if you were marrying the guy for money.

Still, the last thing he wants is for you to be whisked away to who knows where. Ace would never see you again, and as embarrassing as it sounds, he did get very attached to you. Yes, a part of him wants to keep you to himself, but he also values your autonomy here. And if he knew you that well, he knows that you wouldn't want to be married off like this.

"Prefect, I'm here to pick you up."

You are actually surprised by how princely Ace looked in that moment. Dressed in a suit befitting a groom, you could help but feel your breath stolen away once his scarlet eyes were pinned onto yours. You could have been fooled then, and perhaps, Ace did turn into a prince as he marched down the aisle with his arm outstretched for you to take.

Ace never realizes the way a victorious smile creeps onto his face when you break out into a grin, taking the skirt of your dress as you make run for it. The crowd gasps as you crashed into Ace's chest, and he does not hesitate to take a protective stance in front of you. With a haughty laugh, he smirks at the baffled prince. "Who are you?!"

The redhead's arm wraps around your waist, pressing your body closer to his own. "Sorry about that, but I'll be taking your bride indefinitely! Trust me, you'll be severely disappointed after spending one good day with her!" He snickered, much to your horrified expression. You lightly smack at his chest, glaring at him with that pout that he adores so much.

"Hey!" You whine, and Ace simply beams at the prince who hesitantly steps forward. The redhead snorts, rolling his eyes at the crowd that are offended at his immature display. "I'm doing you a great favor here! If you kissed those lips, she'll turn into an ugly green ogre by sunset!"

"HEY!"

Pierce's eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at you, as if pleading for you to return to his arms. "You'd best return her, boy. We can settle this maturely." Ace does not like the way that these bodyguards are eyeing him, shifting closer and closer as he backed you both towards the venue entrance. He never falters, and neither does that shit-eating grin on his face.

"Sorry, buddy. The clock's struck midnight and all your magic tricks are fading!" He barks. Now, he knows that an escape must be made. The last thing he wants is to have another Eliza-episode. He looks down at you with a wide grin, clasping you arm with a firm squeeze.

Ace sneaks into his pocket, still looking at you. "You know something, Charmant? Maybe not all the magic has gone yet." His hand reveals the Ace of Cards, and it is immediately thrown up into the air.

As the card reached its peak in height, a burst of smoke filled the air, obscuring the magician and yourself from view.

You don't exactly need a signal to start running when your feet began moving on their own, dashing towards the door followed by the Ace's laugh and the prince's demand for guards.

Ace has no white horse, but he has Deuce with his blastcycle! Who knows how the three of you managed to fit on that bike, but you made it work! The guards couldn't exactly catch up in their cars, not when Deuce was dodging vehicles left and right to make this escape. Ace did take one final look back, sticking his tongue out at the defeated prince before you all disappeared around the corner.

Ace gives you his shoes, despite how oversized they may be. You complained about those glass shoes on you, and to 'shut you up', he's given you his runners.

When you make it back to Night Raven College and all the adrenaline has died down, Ace stays by your side the entire time when you explain the entire situation to Crewel and Crowley. He acts so nonchalant about things, even as you both walk all over the campus like groom and bride.

It's a rather odd sight; you in your wedding gown, and Ace right next to you as you both sit on the bench by the Great Seven's statues. Students wandering about at night had given both of you puzzled stares, but no one is ever surprised when they realize it's you and Ace, however.

"Wow, Prefect. Not even a thank you?" He glances at your slightly annoyed expression, throwing his hands up defensively in response. "I was kidding about the ogre stuff! Really!"

You could only roll your eyes at his words, huffing as you crossed your arms across your chest. When you refuse to speak, Ace sticks out his lower lip into a pout as he leans his head onto your shoulder. "Come on, don't be like that. Are you actually that upset about it?"

There is no response from you, not even a glance as your nose is turned away from him. Then Ace sighs, practically clambering over your lap just so that you are forced to look at him. "Prefeeeect, I said I was sorry! What? Do I have to kiss you to make me apology authentic?"

Only then do you look back at him with a raised brow, almost expectant. Ace blinks with surprise, a slight blush creeping to his ears. "For real? You're serious?" He exclaimed, much to your agitation. You sigh even louder as you shove him off your lap, hastily getting up to your feet to leave him behind.

"Wait! Prefect, I said wait!" You feel a hand on your wrist, twirling you back to face the redhead. Ace bites onto his lower lip, unable to keep the red from flooding his cheeks. "I really just said all that mean stuff to get the prince off your back, you know? I didn't think you'd take it so seriously."

And when he sees that smirk creeping up onto your features, he groans as he leans in closely into your space.

"Now look at what you've done! You had me all panicked over what?" You feel his breath tickling your lips, followed by the way his hands crawl up your neck to cradle your jaw.

"If you just wanted a kiss, you could've asked..."

[okwonyo]

HIGH HEELS SHOES ✶ when you wear heels 𓈒

𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗥𝗦或 ❜ 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖺𝗅𝗅. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽.

【 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 】 𝑙’ enhypen & female!reader 14OO established relationship ⠀ ｡ ｡ skinship kissing

骚人 ܃ i have .. no idea of what this is ㅠㅠ

reblogs⠀⠀ꢾ꣒⠀ feedbacks please

HEESEUNG

“baby,” he calls from the bathroom upon finishing to get ready. he gets out of to go to the room where you are getting ready. “we have to leave soon, are you—”

his mouth gets dry when he is hit by the heaven-like vision of you standing in front of the mirror. he stops in his movements, unable to say anything for a while.

it gives you enough seconds to turn around and look at him. your giggles echoes in the room when you see his face.

your body grows hot as your boyfriend checks you out with barely controlled lust written all over his face.

you can tell by the expression on he is wearing the the red dress you are wearing is driving him into a spiral— but, you see him crumble when his eyes fall on your heels and lingers on your legs.

he groans as he walks to you, “you can’t do this to me, baby,” his hand comes settle themselves on your waist before he pulls you close. he kisses you first, yet he is the one that says, “we really need to leave soon.”

JAY

“they are so beautiful,” you breathe out, holding the beautiful heels you just got gifted by your boyfriend. you barely remember mentioning this brand and specific shoes but he does, vividly.

he smiles, relieved as if you could ever dislike anything he gives you. his hand holds the back of your neck gently as he gives you a forehead kiss, “i’m glad you like them, princess.”

you let yourself get kissed— as you are still in a dreamlike state, you don’t even realize that you are giggling when his lips connect with your skin. and you are too busy staring at the beautiful gift to realize that the man is getting on one knee.

he delicately takes the box out of your hands, “let me help you,” he tells you, putting the box on the floor.

he takes one of the heels in the box and under your adoring gaze, as if you were a princess, he lifts your legs up ever so gently, high enough to slide the shoe on your foot. your love for him grows, although you thought that was impossible, as you watch him do the same for your other foot.

“perfect,” he says when he is done. he gets up, and kisses you again— on your mouth this time. “you are perfect, angel.”

JAKE

as soon as you arrive home, you reach for the bedroom— closely followed by your boyfriend— to lay on the mattress. back resting against the soft mattress, a soft sigh leaves the barrier of your lips as you stare at the ceiling.

“let me help you, m’love,” his sweet voice declares. for a moment, you are confused about what he could be possibly talking about then you feel his hand wrapping around your ankle.

he holds one of your high heel, sliding the louboutin shoe off your feet— with such care that it almost makes you dizzy.

“you didn’t have to,” you chuckle when he takes off the other half of the pair of heels. you shamelessly watch him take off his suit’s vest from the front side of the bed.

shortly, he finds himself crawling on top of you, “you are so pretty,” he whispers. he doesn’t think that adding ‘tonight’ would be truthful. he thinks you are always gorgeous. “i thought i wouldn’t be able to control myself everytime i looked at you.”

you wrap your fingers around his tie, slowly pulling you closer to your lips. he sighs when you finally kiss— as if he was waiting for it all day long. honestly, he was.

SUNGHOON

there is nothing about you that goes unnoticed by him. because he spends most of his time staring at you, he notices every bit of your expression. even if you are smiling, he catches the wince when you think no one is looking.

however, he waits until you are in the intimacy of the back of the car, drove by your chauffeur, to do something about it. your legs are already over his laps when the car starts to move.

“are they hurting?” his question reaches you after a long silence. you raise a brow, silently asking him what he is talking about. you nod when he asks again, “your feet. are they hurting?”

the man gets out of the car quickly when it stops, just to rush and open the door for you. upon your feet gets in contact with ground, as you steadily stands on the floor, he steps closer.

you let out a surprised noise when your body gets almost turned upside down. his strong arms hold you, carry you like a newly married woman going ro spend time with her husband.

you will always be amazed about how he can pick you up with no efforts needed, as if you weighed nothing. it’s so attractive, you want to kiss him.

SUNOO

he gladly accepts to help you choose what pair of heels you are going to wear tonight. he is the one who encouraged you to wear them, and he is always more than happy to help you out.

but the truth is, your lover is way too distracted by you to think straight. his opinion is clearly biased because he thinks that everything you wear is beautiful.

“what about those ones?” your voice pulls him out of his contemplation of you. standing between his legs as he sits on the couch, you stare at the heels as he stares at you.

he doesn’t even try to look at the shoes on your feet. he only holds your hand to make you sit on his lap instead before breathing out; “gorgeous.”

you chuckle, shyness takes over you when he kisses your cheek gently and rubs your thigh with his thumb. “you didn’t even look at them, sun.”

his lips peck your cheek once again, then another time, clearly waiting for you to turn your head and kiss him— you do it and against your lips he murmurs, “everything you wear is beautiful, baby.”

JUNGWON

he loves it. he loves when you wear heels, he loves how it makes your legs look so alluring— more alluring than the already are— he loves how hypotonic it looks as well as it sounds when you walk.

put on heels and the man can’t think about anything else, he can’t do anything else other than stare at you, he doesn’t want to do anything else but touch you.

his large hand holds your hip and rests on your lower back as you walk. his hands holds on your waist as you talk to your friends, he pulls you closer to his body every time he feels like you are too far.

from behind you, he leans in to reach your ear as your friends discuss. his lips brush against your neck, kisses your skin before he whispers, “you look so good, doll.”

you laugh quietly, it is barely audible for anyone that isn’t as close to you as he is. in a teasing tone, you warn him. “jungwon, you are going to strangle me.”

the ongoing conversation fades out, for the both of you as he kisses your neck again. his mouth trails from your exposed shoulder to behind you ear and you elbow him when he tries to bite your earlobe.

RIKI

he is deeply in love. his heart starts to beat as soon as he gets a glimpse of you face through your house’s door. he stands correctly as soon as he sees you— so lovesick.

his mouth falls agape while you approach him, his eyes scans your entire being with nothing but pure awe. it’s the first time you wear this kind of shoes and he prays it’s not the last.

he doesn’t realize that his hand moved to his chest. feeling his heartbeat beneath his palms, he breathes out as you are finally to him, “you didn’t used to be that tall.”

he feels like he is going crazy when you tilt your head to the side, he mirrors your movement hopelessly as well as the smile you wear as you answer, “is that all you have to say?”

he can’t help but laugh at your cute fake pout. then he comes closer to your face, “of course not,” he gives you a sweet kiss before continuing; “you’re beautiful, sweetheart.”

he is satisfied when you smile widely at him, as the saying says ‘happy wife, happy life’ even if you are not married. yet.

taglist open + net— @sgz-net

[s4svnn]

First sexy time after oob!jk and aj reunited plsss

Control - Out of bounds drabbles

Summary: You hated to admit it but the existence of your boyfriend alone was enough to make you horny, so when he was so distracted with work that he wasn’t making any advances on you, there was only one way to get what you wanted - you needed to make him lose control.

Pairing: F1 racer Jungkook x reader (Aylah)

Genre: fluff, smut (18+)

Warnings/content tags: unprotected sex, rough sex, riding, back shots, orgasm denial, impregnation kink, sub + dom dynamic, degradation kink, oral (f+m receiving), spanking, mirror sex.

When Jungkook told me he was staying in London with me instead of going back to Canada, I was over the moon. And when he surprised me with a freaking penthouse and asked me to move in with him? I swear, I almost blacked out from excitement. More time together, more late-night cuddles, more waking up next to each other—it sounded perfect.

But then reality hit. And by reality, I mean Jungkook. Shirtless. All. The. Damn. Time.

It didn’t matter what time of day it was—morning, afternoon, middle of the night—he was allergic to fabric from the waist up. Just abs, tattoos, and sweatpants slung dangerously low on his hips. And to make matters worse, he wasn’t even doing it on purpose. No teasing, no smug looks. Just existing in all his ridiculously sculpted glory like it wasn’t the most unfair thing to ever happen to me.

At first, I tried to be normal about it. “It’s fine,” I told myself. “You’ve seen him shirtless before.”

Yeah, but I hadn’t lived with it. Hadn’t been ambushed by the sight of him casually sipping his morning coffee with messy bed hair, tattoos flexing as he stretched. Hadn’t walked into the living room only to find him doing push-ups because apparently, that’s what he does when he’s bored.

And to top it all off? The man was busy. So busy training for his upcoming matches that he barely had time for me. It wasn’t that he ignored me—no, he still kissed me, still pulled me onto his lap during movie nights, still curled around me in bed like I was his favorite thing in the world. But when it came to, uh, other activities? Yeah. That wasn’t happening.

At first, I was patient. I told myself he was just tired. But as the days passed, my suffering increased. My boyfriend was the human embodiment of temptation, parading around half-naked while I was practically feral. And he had no clue. None.

I was nearing my breaking point.

So, when I walked into the bedroom one night and found Jungkook standing there, fresh out of the shower, damp hair falling into his eyes, abs glistening under the warm lights… I knew I wasn’t making it out of this alive.

“Babe?” he said, tilting his head when he saw me frozen in the doorway. “You good?”

No. No, I was not good.

And if he didn’t do something about it soon, I was going to lose my mind.

I swallowed hard, forcing a smile onto my face. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m just gonna… take a shower.”

Jungkook nodded, running a towel through his hair, completely unaware of the absolute war raging inside of me. “Okay,” he said casually, turning back toward the dresser like he wasn’t the reason my entire body felt like it was overheating.

I spun on my heel and practically fled into the bathroom, locking the door behind me as if that flimsy piece of wood could somehow protect me from my own thoughts.

The moment the water hit my skin, I let out a deep breath, trying to relax. Trying to wash away the tension. This is fine. This is nothing. You just need to cool down. Literally.

But the second I closed my eyes, he was there. The way he’d been standing in the bedroom just now—fresh from the shower, hair damp, muscles flexing with every little movement. His tattoos, dark and intricate, wrapping around his arms, his shoulders, his chest. The way the water had still clung to his skin, little droplets running down his abs—

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, my fingers twitching at my sides. Maybe… maybe I could just—

I exhaled slowly, letting my hand drift lower, the warm water making everything feel softer, more intense. I tried to focus, to chase the feeling, but it was useless. No matter what I did, my mind kept circling back to him. To Jungkook. To the man standing just outside this door, completely unaware of what he was doing to me.

Frustration curled in my stomach, making my movements frantic, desperate—until suddenly, I knew. It wasn’t going to work.

Nothing was going to work.

Not without him.

With a frustrated groan, I slammed my hand against the shower wall, resting my forehead against the cool tile as I tried to steady my breathing.

This was officially the worst.

Because now, not only was I still aching, but I also had to walk back out there and act like I hadn’t just attempted—and failed—to relieve myself while thinking about my own boyfriend.

Kill me. Just kill me now.

Taking a deep breath, I shut off the water and grabbed my towel, already dreading the moment I had to face him again.

I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, my skin still flushed from the shower, my eyes dark with frustration. This wasn’t working. I needed a new strategy.

And suddenly, an idea hit me.

A very reckless idea.

Normally, I’d bring my clothes into the bathroom and change in here, avoiding any unnecessary… distractions. But tonight? Tonight, I didn’t care. No, actually—I was counting on it.

I grabbed my black lace two-piece set—the one I knew Jungkook loved—and slipped it on, adjusting the delicate fabric until it sat just right. Then, I reached for my cocoa-scented body oil, pouring a generous amount into my palms before smoothing it over my skin, starting from my legs and working my way up.

My hands glided over my thighs, my stomach, my arms—every inch of me gleaming under the bathroom lights, the sweet scent wrapping around me like a second skin. By the time I was done, I looked dangerous. And I felt it too.

The towel I’d wrapped around myself earlier? Straight into the laundry basket. No backup plan, no safety net—just me, my frustration, and the sheer audacity to walk back into that bedroom like this.

I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and pushed open the door.

Jungkook was sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone, completely oblivious to the storm that was about to hit him. His damp hair fell messily over his forehead, his jawline sharp under the glow of the bedside lamp. He still hadn’t put a shirt on—because of course he hadn’t. Just sweatpants, hanging low, exposing the sharp V-line that was already my weakness.

He didn’t even look up at first. But then, as I stepped fully into the room, his thumb froze mid-scroll.

And then he looked up.

I watched as his gaze trailed over me, slowly, deliberately. From my bare legs to my oiled-up skin, to the black lace hugging my curves perfectly. His jaw tightened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

I smirked. Got him.

The air was thick—whether from the heat of my shower or the shift in energy between us, I wasn’t sure. But I could feel it. The weight of his gaze pressing into me, the way his movements seemed to slow, like he wasn’t sure whether to speak or stay silent.

Good. Let him wonder.

I made a show of walking over to my dresser, pulling open a drawer with practiced ease, pretending to search for something important. In reality, I didn’t need anything. I just wanted to make him wait whilst I was bent over giving him a full view of my backside.

Because if there was one thing Jungkook hated, it was being teased.

Still, I said nothing. Just took my time, moving with slow, deliberate care as I picked up my hairbrush and dragged it through my damp strands, the rhythmic strokes filling the tense silence. I could feel him watching me, I could almost hear the way his jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin.

I fought the smirk threatening to curl at the corner of my lips.

"You're really gonna act like I’m not here?" His voice finally cut through the silence, low and edged with something between amusement and irritation.

I blinked, finally pausing my movements, as if I’d only just realized there was another person in the room. Slowly, I turned my head in his direction, my expression blank, eyebrows slightly raised in feigned confusion.

"Hm?" I murmured, tilting my head.

Jungkook leaned back against the bed frame, arms crossed over his chest, eyes locked on me with an intensity that would have made anyone else squirm. But not me. Not tonight.

"I said—" He exhaled sharply, licking his lips as if trying to keep his cool. "You’re really gonna act like I’m not here?"

I frowned slightly, as if deep in thought, then looked around the room as if searching for something. Then, with the most convincingly oblivious expression I could muster, I turned back to him.

"Oh… were you talking to me?" I asked innocently, blinking up at him.

The muscle in his jaw twitched.

"Don't do that," he warned, his voice lower now, more controlled.

I shrugged, returning my focus to my hands as I massaged the last of my lotion into my skin. "Do what?"

I could tell he was biting back his frustration, but that only made my game more fun. I reached for my phone on the nightstand, casually scrolling as if he truly wasn't worth my attention. The air between us was practically crackling now, thick with a tension neither of us would acknowledge—yet.

But I knew Jungkook. And I knew he wasn’t the type to be ignored.

He wouldn’t just sit there and take it.

And that was exactly what I was counting on.

Jungkook was silent for a beat, but I could feel it—the shift in his energy, the way his patience was thinning by the second.

I scrolled idly through my phone, tapping at the screen as if completely engrossed, while in my peripheral vision, I saw him shift his position, one hand running through his dark hair. A habit of his when he was trying—and failing—to keep his composure.

He exhaled, slow and measured. "Alright, bet."

I didn’t react. Didn’t look up. Just kept pretending he wasn’t there, despite the way I could feel the weight of his stare burning into me.

Then, before I could even process his next move, my phone was snatched clean out of my hands.

"What the—" My head snapped up, eyes narrowing as Jungkook leaned back against the bed, holding my phone above his head like it was nothing.

"So now you see me, huh?" His voice was smug, his lips curling into a lazy smirk as he spun my phone between his fingers. "Thought I was invisible a second ago."

I folded my arms, leveling him with an unimpressed stare. "Give it back."

He raised an eyebrow. "Make me."

Oh, so that’s how he wanted to play?

I let out a slow breath, tilting my head as I considered my next move. Then, with zero hesitation, I crawled onto the bed, reaching for my phone. But Jungkook, being Jungkook, was already one step ahead, shifting just out of my reach, his smirk deepening.

"Try harder," he challenged.

My frustration flared, but I kept my expression neutral, deciding I wasn’t going to play his game—I was going to flip it.

So instead of lunging for my phone again, I sat back on my heels, brushing a stray strand of hair over my shoulder, acting completely unbothered.

"Fine," I said coolly. "Keep it."

That caught him off guard. His smirk faltered for half a second, his grip on my phone loosening slightly. "What?"

I shrugged. "You clearly need it more than I do. Enjoy whatever you find there." I dragged my gaze over him slowly before turning away, sliding off the bed with a nonchalant grace that I knew would get under his skin.

Jungkook didn’t move at first. He just stood there, watching me, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip like he was debating his next move. But the look in his eyes told me he’d already made up his mind.

And then, just as I was about to turn away, he grabbed me.

One strong hand wrapped around my wrist, the other settling on my waist as he turned me around, backing me up until my legs hit the edge of the bed. My breath hitched, but I refused to show any reaction. I just stared up at him, my chin high, daring him to do something.

Jungkook let out a slow exhale, his grip firm but not rough. His eyes roamed over me, taking in every inch, like he was deciding exactly how he wanted this to go.

Then, his voice dropped—low, steady, completely in control.

"Get on the bed."

I blinked, heat prickling up my spine at the way he said it. Not a question. Not a suggestion. A command.

I tilted my head, feigning innocence. "Excuse me?"

Jungkook’s jaw ticked, and in response, he leaned in, his hand sliding from my wrist to my hip, squeezing lightly. "You heard me," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. "Get on the bed."

A slow, deliberate silence settled between us.

I could have fought him on it. Could have tested him a little more, dragged this out just to make him work for it.

But something about the way he said it—the way his voice dipped, the way his grip tightened just enough to remind me that he wasn’t playing anymore—made me decide against it.

Without breaking eye contact, I stepped back, the backs of my knees pressing into the mattress.

Then, still moving slowly, I climbed onto the bed.

Jungkook watched me the entire time, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek, like he was pleased. Like he had been expecting me to obey.

I sat back on my hands, one leg bent, the other stretched out, watching him carefully. "Happy now?"

Jungkook let out a quiet chuckle, his fingers flexing at his sides. "Not yet."

Then he took a step closer.

And just like that, the game had changed.

Jungkook’s smirk didn’t fade as he hovered over me, his bare chest inches from mine, heat radiating between us. His hands skimmed my thighs, firm but slow, his touch setting fire to my skin.

"See?" he murmured, his lips so close to mine I could feel his breath. "I knew you couldn’t lie to me."

I refused to give him the satisfaction of a response, but my body betrayed me—my breathing uneven, my pulse racing beneath his touch.

He noticed. Of course, he did.

His fingers traced higher, his thumbs pressing into my hips as he pulled me closer, our bodies flush against each other now. My breath hitched at the feeling of his skin against mine, the warmth, the tension so thick it was almost unbearable.

Jungkook tilted his head, his lips barely grazing my jaw, trailing down—slow, deliberate, teasing.

"You act tough," he murmured, his voice low, rough. "But the second I touch you…"

His hands slid up my waist, fingertips ghosting over my ribcage, and I had to fight the urge to arch into him.

"You go back to being a slut for me," he finished, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just beneath my ear.

A quiet gasp escaped me before I could stop it.

Jungkook smirked.

"That’s what I thought," he murmured against my skin.

I exhaled, fighting to stay composed, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as his touch traveled, inch by inch, making me burn for more without a single word spoken.

“You’ve got this way of acting like you’re in control," Jungkook murmured, leaning in, his lips brushing against my ear. "But I know better."

I barely held it together, my body reacting instinctively, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me unravel.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his gaze searing. “So don’t worry,” he added with a hint of mischief in his voice. “I’ll make sure you feel it.”

If you had told me an hour ago that I’d be at Jungkook’s mercy, I wouldn’t have believed you for a second. The version of me standing in the bathroom, all glazed up, thought she was going to have complete control over her boyfriend. But now, looking at the present situation, I can see just how delusional I was..

I was now sitting on the floor, my legs tucked underneath me, feeling a rush of vulnerability as Jungkook stood over me. The weight of his presence was overwhelming, his figure towering as he looked down at me with an intensity that sent shivers through my body. His fingers tangled in my hair, tugging gently at first before pulling me closer, his grip firm and possessive. With a deliberate, slow movement, he guided my mouth, making sure every inch of his length was covered as he moved me back and forth. The control he held over me was undeniable, each motion timed perfectly, leaving me breathless and at his mercy. I could feel the heat radiating from him, and despite the haze in my mind, I couldn’t deny how thoroughly he had taken charge of the moment.

"Good girl," he breathed, his voice low and thick with desire. As his pace quickened, his hands gripped me tighter, urging me on. "You take me so well," he continued, the words dripping with approval. The rhythm between us grew more frantic, and he could feel every subtle movement I made in perfect sync with him. I gagged as he continued his relentless pace, shoving me forward as he pushed his hips further into my mouth with more force, tightening his grip on my hair to keep me in place as he used me to chase his own high.

Once he released himself into my mouth, he tilted my head back, his eyes locking onto mine with a cold, unwavering stare. 'Swallow it,' he demanded, his voice leaving no room for hesitation. I paused, staring back at him, my lips curling into a mischievous grin, as if daring him to push further. Then without warning, his hand shot out, tightening around my neck, pulling me in so close I could feel his breath on my skin. His gaze burned into mine as he growled, his voice low and full of authority, 'Swallow it, Aylah. I won’t repeat myself.”

With no more hesitation, I swallowed, feeling the pressure of his gaze intensify. His grip remained firm on my neck, his eyes never leaving mine as I processed the sharp command hanging in the air between us. The taste lingered on my tongue, and I could feel the weight of the moment, each second feeling like a challenge he was daring me to meet. Then without warning, he gripped me tightly, lifting me effortlessly off the ground and tossing me onto his shoulders. My body was suspended for a moment, disoriented, before my legs instinctively wrapped around his neck. The shift in position was swift and commanding, my hands instinctively grabbing onto his hair to steady myself as my heat came in direct contact with his face.

For a brief moment, he stood there, silent and still, as if waiting for something. Then, slowly, he began to exhale warm breaths directly into my core, each one caressing my skin with a heat that seemed to grow more intense with every passing second. The soft, steady warmth made my body react instinctively, heat pooling in places I hadn’t expected as I arched into his touch.  I could feel the subtle curve of his lips as he smiled against me, a smile that was tinged with satisfaction, clearly pleased by my response. After a brief pause, his voice dropped to a low, almost dangerous tone. “You don’t deserve this,” he murmured, each word deliberate and heavy with meaning, “after the stunt you pulled.” There was a pause, just long enough to make my heart race, before he continued, his voice darker and laced with authority, “But you’re lucky I’m patient, I’ll leave your punishment to later.”

Before I could fully process the weight of his words, I felt the fabric of my thong shift as his hand moved with precision, pushing it aside to expose my wetness to him. The air around me seemed to still for a moment, every inch of my body acutely aware of the shift in the atmosphere, as his tongue moved slowly and deliberately in a long, lingering stripe across my core. I found myself momentarily frozen, a mix of surprise and anticipation rushing through me, my breath catching in my throat. Yet, despite the effect his touch had on me, he continued without hesitation, completely unfazed by the way my body reacted. He dipped in further, his movements growing more urgent as he devoured me with an intensity that felt almost desperate. It was as though he'd been starved for so long, his actions frantic, as if he feared that at any second I might slip away and he'd never have this again. 

He paused momentarily, his lips brushing lightly against the skin of my thigh as he pulled back just enough to catch his breath. His eyes, heavy with satisfaction, met mine, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “You taste so fucking good,” he said, his voice low and rich with appreciation, as if every taste was a revelation. He then shifted his stance, harshly throwing my back against the wall, as he forced his face further in between my legs, gripping my thighs with increased pressure. His hands strong and assertive pulled me closer, guiding my movements with a firm control, I couldn’t help but release a soft, breathless moan caught in the intensity of the moment. But before I could completely ride out my high he pulled away dropping me onto the bed without hesitation. 

I let out a soft whine, my breath shaky as I propped myself up on my arms, struggling to steady myself. My voice was a mix of confusion and frustration as I looked at him. “What gives? I thought you said I was off the hook.” My words hung in the air, a little pleading, but more curious, as I tried to make sense of the shift in his demeanor." He smirked at me, his eyes glinting with that familiar, teasing intensity. “I didn’t say you were off the hook, I said I’d leave your punishment to later” he replied, his tone playful yet firm, as if reminding me that the game was far from over.

I glared at him, my eyes narrowing as my body stiffened in defiance. I refused to give in easily, the challenge burning within me. But as I met his gaze, I saw the determination in his eyes—unwavering, unmoving—and I knew that resistance was futile. With a reluctant, heavy sigh, I began to turn agonizingly slow before his hands reached out grabbing my thighs to hoist my ass up and against him, as he pushed my head down to lay flat on the bed. Suddenly, his hand shot out again and gripped my hair, yanking my head back with a sharp pull that jolted my neck. His face was inches from mine, close enough that I could feel the heat of his breath. His voice was low, filled with an edge of frustration. “Stop acting like a little bitch, and do what I say,” he growled, his words carrying a weight that was impossible to ignore. 

I pushed my ass into him, desperately trying to gain some form of touch, but his grip tightened, holding me in place. A smirk spread across his face, his eyes glinting with amusement as he stared at the evident stain my wetness left on his sweatpants. “Treating you like a slut turns you on, noted.” Before I could even get the words out to tell him to hurry up, his hand came down with surprising force, the sound of it cutting through the air with a loud, stinging crack that resonated between us as I jolted forward. The impact sent a shockwave through my body, the sharp sting on my ass lingering long after the sound faded, leaving the tension in the air thick and almost palpable as I moaned out at the sensation.

At my lack of response another sharp slap landed on my ass, this one even harder than the first, leaving an imprint of his hand on me. He started massaging the spot where his hand had landed, the pressure of his fingers working into my skin, as he dropped his fingers in between my legs dragging them up and down my folds to collect my slick before dipping his fingers into his mouth, “You’re so responsive.” I let out a soft whine, feeling my patience wear thin at his actions. “Jungkook, please,” I said, my voice laced with a hint of desperation. He leaned down closer, a playful smile tugging at his lips as his body laid flat against my back, his abs digging into my behind, “Please what, my love?” he teased.

I spoke again, my tone dropping slightly “Fuck me.” He paused for a moment, leaning in closer as if listening intently, only to tilt his head and raise an eyebrow, acting completely oblivious to what I had just said. “Hmm?” He leaned in even further, a playful smile curling at the corners of his lips. “I didn’t quite catch that.” he teased, his tone light. “Could you speak a little louder, my love?” His eyes twinkled with mischief, and I could tell he was enjoying the moment far more than I was. Then with newfound confidence I spoke more angrily “hurry up and fuck me you prick,” but unfortunately he didn’t react in the way I expected, instead he pulled me backwards by my neck, his pants long gone as he forced me down onto his length pulling me to sit flat on his lap, his legs in between mine as the sudden intrusion caused me to cry out. “Talk to me like that again you bitch, I dare you.” he spoke lowly, his anger radiating off him.

I let out sharp breaths trying to adjust to the feeling but Jungkook didn't allow me to do so, instead he grabbed my hips harshly pushing me up and down against him, bringing his mouth to ear before whispering “you wanted to be impatient, so this is on you.” My breathing quickened as his pace became more relentless, the sound of skin slapping against eachother filled the quietness of the room, as he thrusted into me whilst dragging my hips down to meet his brutal actions. The intensity of it all led to me inadvertently clenching around his length, causing him to push me down so that I was layed flat against the bed as he took me from behind, watching my ass clap as he pushed harshly into me. I moaned out at the sensation urging him to carry on as he grabbed onto the skin of my ass dragging me backwards, his nails dinging into my skin as he spoke clearly amused by my reaction “You like that, you like being a slut for me?”

“Y-yes go h-harder, fuck.” At that, he smirked, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes. Without a word, he stopped moving, his hands gripping my waist with firm control. In one smooth motion, he turned me on the bed to face the floor-to-ceiling mirror that reflected both of us. I found myself suddenly face-to-face with my own dishevlled reflection, yet my gaze remained locked with his through the mirror. He stood proudly behind me, his presence commanding, a contrast to the vulnerability that seemed to radiate from me as I was bent down before him for him to as he pleased with me.

He leaned in slightly, his voice low and deliberate, the words piercing the silence. “You see that?” His voice was calm, yet there was an edge to it that made my heart race. “I’m in control, don’t ever get that twisted.” His eyes burned with a quiet authority as he spoke, making sure every word sank in, before he continued his relentless pace forcing my head up to watch him through the mirror. His hand gripped the back of my neck tightly urging me to watch as he used me for his own pleasure, leaving marks all over my body as he claimed me entirely with his actions. “I want you to watch,” he said, his words carrying weight as he subtly emphasized the command. His eyes stayed fixed on me through the reflection, never wavering, as if reminding me to stay present in the moment, fully aware of everything happening between us, “You’re mine you understand.”

“Y-yes—” I cried out overwhelmed by the feeling of his length pounding into me as I felt myself nearing my release. I watched as his expression shifted, the corners of his mouth curving into a satisfied smile. The change was subtle, but unmistakable—he seemed pleased, the tension in his features easing as he spoke clearly content with my response, “good girl, now take me like the slut you are, take all of me.” I cried out again as I felt him release inside of me, his pace not faltering even in the slightest as he sped up throwing me into a state of overstimulation, his voice looming over the sounds of my moans, “You’d look so good carrying my child, fuck, imagine that.” His voice only edged me further as I clenched around him cumming for what felt like the hundreth time as he filled my mind with more impure thoughts, “Shit, you like that don’t you, the idea of being filled with my cum, have me put a kid inside you.”

I gasped at the seriousness of his words, my mind turning off as I welcomed the idea of bearing his child, completely possessed by his alluring tone. Then with a few last thrusts his movements came to a halt as he laid down against my behind, his length still inside me as he kissed up my back, "I love you. I love you so fucking much," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. The words hit me like a rush, and without thinking, I turned my neck slightly to face him, my breath catching. "I love you too, babe," I whispered in return, the sincerity of my words clear. Then, without hesitation, I kissed him, matching the raw intensity of his previous actions, our connection deepening with every second. I pulled away slightly, resting my forehead against his, letting the moment stretch out just a bit longer. A smirk tugged at the corners of my lips as I gazed up at him, teasing, "So, impregnation kink?"

He blinked, a sudden flush creeping up his neck, and quickly turned his face away, trying to hide the red on his cheeks. "Shut up," he muttered, clearly embarrassed. I raised an eyebrow, amused, then leaned in just enough to catch his eyes. "To be fair, I'd be lying if I said I was opposed to the idea." The blush deepened, his face turning even more red, as he stumbled for words. "W-what?" he stuttered, his voice betraying his unease. I smirked, feeling the teasing spark between us. "But you're going to have to put a ring on me first, Jeon," I said, my words playful but laced with absolute seriousness.

At that, he broke into a wide grin, his face still flushed. He kissed me all over, his lips soft and insistent, a promise in each touch. "I will, I will I promise," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity, as his hands gently cradled my face as he kissed me again. “I love you.”

[acmeangel]

Levi always cut his own hair. Always. Over the bathroom sink, the door open just a sliver, a crease between his brow, his lips set in a straight line.

You knew this about him. You figured it was just another one of his habits and particularities, like how he has to brew his own tea. You tried once, and when he took a sip, his nose twitched and he asked “How did you make this?” — not quite an insult, he couldn’t bring himself to be completely rude to you, but you knew what he meant. You haven’t made tea since.

But the hair cutting. He’d never announce it, never make a comment about it after. If you told him it looked nice, he’d simply make a noise of acknowledgement and move on.

You’d simply find him, in the bathroom, door cracked open, while he leaned over the sink, snipping pieces of hair with practiced precision. The muscles in his neck, shoulders, and back would flex and move with every motion, the tension lingering within them obvious. The irises of his eyes looked cloudier, distant, and that crease between his brow persisted. Always.

You push the bathroom door open, slowly, soundlessly, as if a sudden movement would make him disappear into thin air. Sometimes, you thought it might.

You lean against the doorway, watching him — he catches your gaze in the mirror for just a second, his eyes locking onto yours with a fleeting vulnerable intensity, before he focuses on himself again.

You just want to help. It’s all you ever want to do, really — to take over some of the tedious little things he does by himself every day, just because he’s always done them by himself. Bit by bit, you want to show him that the weight he carries on his shoulders is something that can be shared, that you’d carry it with him, happily.

“You know, there are these things called barbers that are pretty good at this sort of thing,” you tease, gently, a faint smile curling onto your lips. You knew a groan was coming, but you also knew he appreciated your teasing. It made him feel more grounded.

Groan. Tch.

“Why would I pay someone to do a shitty job?” His eyes flicker to yours in the mirror again, a touch softer this time.

“Want help with the back?” you ask, your eyes lingering on the strands of hair that have begun to grow down the curve of his neck. “I’ll do it for free. It’s really quite a steal.”

“No,” he says. Instantly, flatly.

You walk over closer to him, as he snips the hair in front of his face.

“I won’t mess it up. I can handle trimming a few pieces of hair.” You smile at him in the mirror, and your hand finds its way to rest on the nape of his neck, gently.
He flinches, slightly. He never moved away from your touch anymore — not since the early days of your relationship, where every affectionate touch was foreign to him. In fact, now he usually leaned into it, wanted it.

“I can do it myself.” His voice comes out a little lower, a little rougher this time. His eyes don’t find yours in the mirror.

“Okay, Levi.” Your hand retracts from his neck, and you exit the bathroom. You didn’t want to push, you never did. You learned that with Levi, things had to progress a little slower. It had been like that since the first time he kissed you — his lips had been so light against yours, his hands just barely cradled your face. He’d never admit it out loud, but you knew he was afraid — afraid to let himself care about something precious, afraid that you’d leave him one way or another, afraid that he’d never be able to give you what you deserve.


You knew none of it was true. You loved him, and you weren’t going anywhere, and you loved the way he loved you. Quietly, subtly, through actions and small gestures, instead of words and big romantic displays. It was all you’d ever need.

You didn’t need him to sweep you off your feet or tell you that he loved you every day. You were just as happy waking up every morning to a warm cup of jasmine tea on your bedside table, in your favorite mug that he had once spent hours fixing after the time you had dropped it. It was always made perfectly — something he’d learned just for you, despite calling it “that herbal crap.”

Seeing the way your lips curved into a smile after taking a sip was really the only thing he ever needed.

So, you leave the bathroom and you get into bed, and you wait for him to join you.

A short while later, he does. He slides into the bed beside you, his head finds the place on your chest that it always does. His head turns away from you, the back of his neck a faint red from rubbing it with a towel, tiny drops of water glistening in his hair.

You reach out and stroke his hair — while he doesn’t let you cut it, he will always let you run your fingers through it. You’ve found that it soothes him, that it helps him relax at night.

He makes a noise of approval, of affection.

“I’ve never let anyone cut my hair,” he says after a while, a hint of apology in his tone.

“Levi.” Your hand continues to stroke his soft hair. “You don’t need to explain it to me.”

“My mom was the only person who’s ever cut my hair.” His voice is low, a rare softness to it, as he admits this, his face turned away from you. “I don’t want…” His voice trails off.

He doesn’t need to continue. You know what he means. He’d told you bits and pieces about his mom, about his childhood, and you’d been able to put it all together. You could tell, by the way he talked about his mom, that his memory of her was starting to slip through his fingers — and now, it seemed, the way she cut his hair is one of the few memories left.

“I know,” you say, your voice soft. “Don’t worry. But, at least let me get you some better scissors for it.”

A long, gentle silence falls between you two. Your eyes trace the slope of his shoulder, the slow rising and falling of his breathing.

He turns over, his head faces toward you. Your fingers drift from his hair to the curve of his cheek.

“Maybe… next time, you can help.” His voice is a slight, relaxed mumble, and his eyes search yours. “With the back. It’s a pain. Practically break my damn neck doing it.”

Mmm, you hum, nodding softly. “Alright, I will.”

“Just don’t make it uneven. Or I might have to leave you for a shitty barber.”

You laugh, and you smile. This is all he ever needs.

The corners of his lips twitch into a faint smile. His hand reaches up to capture yours as it gently caresses his face, and he presses a soft kiss into your palm. You know what this gesture means.

“I love you too, Levi.”

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Masterlist

Requests are open!

[catcze]

Shh my hair ( and tbh my pants too lol ) is a bit of a mess so I cropped it out 🫶

:P

I’ve been out n about for nearly 7 hrs now (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀) But at least I got myself a blueberry cream donut + some coffee earlier, and I look hot asf today !! So I shall endure until all the stuff I have to do today are done 🫶

[genshinluvr]

Marks of the Dragons

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader, Neuvillette x Isekai'd!Reader, Zhongli x Isekai'd!Reader, Zhongli x Isekai'd!Reader x Neuvillette

Summary: Zhongli and Neuvillette marked you— they marked you by biting you. What lead up to that situation? You went on a trip to Chenyu Vale with the Chief Justice of Fontaine and Funeral Consultant of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.

Note: My work schedule has been very inconsistent that I wasn't able to work on anything :< This smut is probably awful since I haven't written smut in so long. Before anyone new asks, yes, Kinich, Sethos, and Ororon are officially in the harem! Since I unknowingly manifested both Zhongli and Neuvillette's banners have a rerun together, I had to write a smut with the two finest men in Genshin. This idea is partially from the unpublished Zhongli smut I had in mind two years ago, so I had to make it a thing for both Zhongli and Neuvillette >:3 MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT. Anyway, I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (also Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warning: Horribly written smut, anal, oral, double penetration, blowjobs, hair pulling, choking, Zhongli and Neuvillette have two dicks, biting, marking, maybe mating???

Word Count: 7.1k

Everyone is lounging in the living room, sitting close to the fireplace, taking in the heat and cozy atmosphere—except for you. There’s an empty spot beside every man in the room, hoping you’ll cuddle up beside them. You’re still in your bedroom, preparing for the hangout. It’s freezing in the abode, which surprises everyone because who knew it could become freezing in the teapot? Heck, it looks like it might even snow by the looks of it. 

Scaramouche sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What’s taking [Y/N] so long? We’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes, and they still haven’t left their bedroom.”

“Maybe they fell asleep?” Venti suggests, looking around the room.

The lights in the living room are off. The only source of light illuminating the dark room is the fireplace, casting a warm glow. 

Kaeya yawns, stretching his arms before sprawling out on the couch, rubbing his eye with his knuckle. “If [Y/N] doesn’t come out of their room by the time the clock strikes eight, I’m going to fall asleep,” Kaeya mutters, leaning over to snatch the fluffy blanket from Diluc’s lap, earning a glare from the redhead.

Diluc sharply exhales from his nostrils, pinching the space between his eyebrows. “Why can’t you get your own blanket instead of taking other people’s belongings?” Diluc grumbles, reaching over to yank the blanket from Kaeya’s body.

Dainsleif rolls his eyes before getting up from his spot and heading towards the staircase. The men stop what they’re doing, watching the blond man walk up the stairs. “Since everyone is impatient, I’ll check on them myself.”

Upstairs in the estate, you stare at your reflection in the mirror, pulling up your turtleneck. You rarely wear turtlenecks, but since it’s freezing in the abode, you might as well wear one. You leave your bathroom and grab the nearest jacket. Your neck is aching, and it hurts each time you twist or tilt your head. You zip up your jacket, making sure the bandage is hidden beneath both your jacket and turtleneck. 

You peek at your reflection in the full-length mirror, eyeing yourself from head to toe as you walk to your dresser for your fuzzy socks. You dig through the dresser, searching for the specific fuzzy sock you cherish (it kept your feet warm well because the men would complain about your feet being cold every time it brushed against their legs).

A gentle knock from your bedroom door pulls you out of your thoughts. You quickly put on your socks before rushing to answer the door. You take a deep breath and open the door, your heart thundering in your chest when you see Dainsleif in front of you.

You smile at the blond man. “Hey, Dainsleif! Sorry for taking so long. I was looking for a comfortable jacket to wear along with these fuzzy socks, " you say, looking down at your sock-clad feet. 

Before Dainsleif can say anything, Childe pops up from the corner, placing a rough hand on Dainsleif’s shoulders, causing him to grunt and glare at the Harbinger. “You took your sweet time, snookums. Were you trying to look pretty for me?” Childe teases, winking at you.

You playfully roll your eyes, shaking your head, only to stop abruptly and let out a sharp breath. Dainsleif and Childe look at you worriedly, scanning you from head to toe for any injuries. You clear your throat, plastering a fake smile on your face.

“You two have nothing to worry about, I promise. I’m done getting dressed, and we can all go downstairs now. Let’s go before the others become restless,” you say, stepping out of your bedroom and walking past Dainsleif and Childe. 

As you’re descending the stairs, both Childe and Dainsleif trade looks with one another before following behind you. Once the three of you reach the living room, everyone sighs in relief and gestures for you to sit beside them. You raise your eyebrows, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“I’m not sure if I can sit with every one of you at the same time.” You say, waddling farther into the living room. “Who am I sitting with first?” You ask, sitting on the armrest where Dottore is seated. 

Dottore chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you onto his lap. “It looks like you subconsciously made your decision already, kitten. The others can wait.” He states, smirking at the other men in the room.

Itto shoots up from his spot. “Hey, that’s not fair!”

Dottore shrugs, shooting a shit-eating grin in Itto’s direction before continuing to have you wrapped up in his arms. When Itto opens his mouth to protest once more, Thoma pats his shoulders and shakes his head as if he’s telling Itto to let it slide for now. Itto grumbles and slumps in his seat, hugging the plush onikabuto to his chest with a pout.

Ayato clears his throat. “How about this? Each of us gets to have our turn with [Y/N] for twenty minutes,” Ayato suggests.

Ororon sighs, resting his head on the armrest. “There’s over thirty of us in the room. Do you really think we’ll be sitting here for hours just to have our turn to snuggle with [Y/N]?” Ororon grumbles, narrowing his eyes at Dottore.

Sitting near the fireplace, Sethos props his feet on the ottoman and chuckles. “Heck, if that means I get my chance to snuggle with my cuddle bug, I don’t mind waiting for my turn,” Sethos says, winking at you.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you sink farther against Dottore’s chest. Dottore’s chuckle rings in your ears, causing your face to feel even hotter. Kinich sighs, leaning back against the sofa while Ajaw nags his ears off about who knows what. Kinich briefly glances at you before something catches his attention. Kinich suddenly sits up straight, leans forward, and squints at you for a moment.

You can’t help but squirm under his gaze, feeling slightly awkward now that the others are starting to realize what Kinich is doing. Everyone’s eyes are all on you, trying to see what Kinich is staring at aside from you. 

You awkwardly clear your throat. “Is there something on my face?” You mutter, subconsciously reaching up to your face, feeling around for anything. Aside from the skincare products Xiao and Zhongli bought for you a few days ago while in Liyue, you feel nothing. 

“Are you alright by any chance?” Kinich asks, now standing in front of you and Dottore.

You blink up at Kinich owlishly before nodding your head. “Yeah, I’m okay! W-Why did you ask?”

Kinich continues to scrutinize you, his eyes scanning you from head to toe— looking at the smallest details on you. Kinich reaches forward and caresses your face in his hands, catching you off guard. You gulp, internally praying that he doesn’t notice the bandaids hidden beneath your turtleneck.

Kinich tilts your head up and turns your head from side to side while inspecting every little thing about you. Your heart continues to race in your chest, and your face gets hotter and hotter by the minute. Due to the excessive movement, the collar of your jacket and turtleneck conveniently slide down, making the bandages visible to everyone. 

“What happened to your neck?” Thoma gasps as people start to gather around you.

Kinich lets go of your head and takes a step back when Capitano brushes him to the side. Capitano kneels before you, caressing your face with one hand while unzipping your jacket with the other. Dottore hooks his finger underneath the collar of your turtleneck and pulls it down, revealing more of the bandage wrapped around your neck.

Baizhu furrows his eyebrows, inspecting the bandage. Capitano moves to the side so Baizhu can take a closer look at your supposed “injury.” You nervously peek from Baizhu’s shoulders, locking eyes with Zhongli and Neuvillette. The two men stand side by side, not saying a word. Are they going to let you handle this situation alone!? How are they so calm when you’re internally panicking?!

Baizhu pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs softly. “[Y/N], sweetheart, if you’re injured, you do not need to hide it from any of us— especially me. Your wounds could get infected if they’re not treated properly,” Baizhu chides, sitting at the edge of the seat beside Dottore while eyeing your bandaged neck.

“I’ll remove the bandages so Dr. Baizhu can properly treat your injury,” Capitano says, reaching for the corner of the peachy-beige bandage, ready to peel it off when you suddenly grab his wrist, stopping him.

You shake your head, eyes wide. “You don’t have to! I’m fine, I promise!” You squeak.

Pierro crosses his arms over his chest, scrutinizing you. “If you’re fine, then you would be okay with us taking the bandage off to inspect the wound,” Pierro says gruffly.

You swallow the lump in your throat, hesitantly releasing Capitano’s wrists and letting your hands fall onto your lap. Capitano proceeds to peel off the bandage, only to reveal another layer beneath. Capitano pauses and looks at you, not saying anything.

Xiao huffs. “If you were truly okay, then you wouldn’t need to have more than one layer of bandaid around your neck,” Xiao grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

Capitano continues where he left off, gently removing the bandage from your neck. You squeeze your eyes shut, knowing you will not be able to handle the other’s reaction to the marks on your neck. Once the bandage slowly reveals what’s underneath it, you hear sharp gasps from the men in the room.

Kaveh pushes Capitano out of the way while muttering an apology before ripping the bandage off completely, revealing two bite marks on each side of your neck. Kaveh gasps in horror, his eyes bugging out of his head.

“What kind of monster did this to you!?” Kaveh screams, cupping your cheeks in his hands as he forces you to look at him in the eyes.

Al Haitham sighs, pinching the space between his eyebrows while shaking his head. “For once, can you relax?” Al Haitham mutters, glaring at the blond architect. 

Kaveh ignores Al Haitham’s comment as he continues to examine the bite marks on your neck. Kaveh gently brushes the marks on your neck, causing you to wince and softly hiss at the contact. Kaveh looks at Baizhu, giving him a pleading look. 

Pantalone adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “I’m no doctor, but the bite marks look fresh. It looks irritated,” Pantalone mutters, stroking his chin.

“Who did this to you?” Tighnari asks.

You swallow the lump in your throat, heat rushing to your cheeks as you try to muster up an excuse. Surely, if the others knew who did this to you, they wouldn’t be too upset, would they? How are you supposed to explain this to the others when the perpetrators don’t look apologetic in the slightest? Heck, they look smug that the others found out about the bite marks on your neck. 

“Those look like deep puncture holes. I don’t believe normal human teeth could do this,” Cyno mutters, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

Gorou’s eyes widen as he nods. “You’re right! There’s no way any of us could have inflicted this type of… injury on [Y/N]!”

Heizou’s eyes light up as he walks toward you, his eyes remaining on your neck. “If you look closely, the teeth marks aren’t the same. One bite is larger than the other, and the canines don’t exactly match up. However, they seem to have a specific intention when leaving said bite marks on [Y/N]’s neck,” Heizou says, stroking his chin. 

For the next five minutes, the men talk among themselves, trying to figure out who or what could have given you the bite marks. They continue to look and examine you, making you feel like a strange phenomenon they have ever laid their eyes on. Well, technically, you sort of are one because you’re not from their world. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get those marks on your neck?” Aether asks, plopping down beside you.

You shift on Dottore’s lap, clearing your throat. “Uh…” you trail off, rubbing the back of your neck while subconsciously looking over at the two refined men two feet in front of you. For once, they’re not avoiding each other (well, Zhongli was the one avoiding). They stand beside each other, gazing at you intently, their eyes occasionally shifting to the marks on your neck. Of course, they’re not speaking to each other. They’re trying to keep up an act.

Wriothesley raises his eyebrows. “Why do you keep looking at Monsieur Neuvillette and Mister Zhongli? Surely they’re not the ones who left those marks on you, are they?” Wriothesley sarcastically asks, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“So? Are you going to tell us how you got those marks on your throat?” Aether asks, shaking his head.

You have an inkling feeling that Aether knows who the culprits are but doesn’t want to say it. You look elsewhere, trying to come up with an excuse. While trying to find the excuse, you start to think about what led to you getting marked by the Chief Justice of Fontaine and the Funeral Consultant. 

- Less than 24 hours ago -

Zhongli has offered to take you to Chenyu Vale after hearing you rave about the tea set Shenhe and Ganyu have gifted you when visiting the abode. Of course, the trip Zhongli initially planned was going to be just you and him. However, the Chief Justice of Fontaine wanted to tag along, and since Zhongli didn’t want to be rude, Zhongli reluctantly agreed to turn the trip for two into a trip for three.

“Ooh, twenty Chenyu Adeptea for fifteen hundred Mora?” You murmur, stroking your chin while the vendor talks your ears off. 

Neuvillette grabs you by the shoulders before steering you away from the stall while clearing his throat. “While it may seem like a great deal, I wouldn’t recommend it,” Neuvillette mutters, ignoring the glare the merchant shoots in his direction.

“But it’s the same tea that Ganyu and Shenhe gifted me!” You protest, attempting to look at the stall, but Neuvillette shakes his head, turning your head to make you face forward.

Neuvillette sighed, muttering about merchants trying to lure unsuspecting victims into a scam— a scam he had once fallen for a year prior during Lantern Rite. Neuvillette looks around, searching for a certain idiot Archon Funeral Consultant around the area. Footsteps approaching you and Neuvillette grab both your and the Iudex’s attention. 

Zhongli raises his eyebrows upon seeing the expression on Neuvillette’s face. “Is everything alright?” Zhongli crosses his arms over his chest.

You point at the stall behind you and Neuvillette. “Someone was selling packs of Adeptea for a great price! I was about to buy some, but Neuvillette steered me away from the merchant!” You explain, visibly upset.

Zhongli opens his mouth to scold Neuvillette, only for the Iudex to move out of the way to show the merchant and his stall. Upon laying his eyes on the familiar stall, Zhongli sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. For once, Zhongli is glad that Neuvillette decides to tag along on this trip. Who knows how much Mora you’ll end up spending and getting scammed in the end?

You continue to pout at Zhongli and Neuvillette, muttering about wanting to return to the abode with large quantities of Adeptea. Zhongli gestures to Neuvillette, letting the Iudex know that he’s got this handled. 

Zhongli approaches you, grabs your hand, and tucks your hair behind your ear with a small smile. “Dearest, we’ve been out and about in Chenyu Vale for quite some time now. Are you hungry by any chance?” Zhongli asks, gazing at you intently. 

“Huh. Now that I think about it, I am a little bit hungry…” you trail off, feeling your stomach rumble. “Yeah, I’m hungry.” You turn to Neuvillette, “What about you? Are you hungry as well, Neuvillette?”

The Chief Justice of Fontaine nearly cries with happiness. Not only is your attention taken away from the scam of a merchant, but you three are finally eating something after being away from the abode for hours. Granted, he did eat something prior to the trip, but walking around for hours can make a person hungry. 

Neuvillette nods, “Yes, I am feeling quite peckish myself,” Neuvillette replies.

Zhongli ignores Neuvillette’s response to your question as he smiles and caresses the back of your head before slipping his hands into yours and pulling you towards a small pavilion. “I know just a place to satiate your hunger.”

Neuvillette sighs, rolling his eyes. Even though the idiot Funeral Consultant reluctantly agreed to have Neuvillette join in on this trip, Neuvillette does not appreciate the fact that he was the third wheel on this trip. Being the angel that you are, you make sure that both Neuvillette and Zhongli get the same shared attention.

Everything else after ends up being a blur for you. You don’t remember what you ordered at the small restaurant, but you do remember drinking a particular tea that is not of Chenyu Vale origin— well, it’s not grown locally. The tea has an earthy taste with a hint of sweetness to it. It’s not your cup of tea (hehehe, get it? Cyno would be so proud of you), but it’s not like you hate it.

After eating and taking a small break from your once-in-a-century exercise, you, Zhongli, and Neuvillette stop by various stalls around Chenyu Vale.

Despite the beautiful region being known for its tea, the three of you ended up coming across an interesting stall. The merchant is selling fragrances from all over Teyvat. Neuvillette and Zhongli have no interest in fragrances, but they’re quite intrigued by the ones you would pick up and examine with curiosity.

“Ah! I see you’re looking at the Glaze Lily and Rainbow Rose fragrance! It’s quite popular among the female population in Chenyu Vale!” says the merchant, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

You grab a slip of white paper from the stand and spray the perfume onto the paper before taking a whiff of the popular fragrance. You close your eyes, taking in the scent. It smells lovely. The Glaze Lily and Rainbow Rose scented perfume reminds you of the two men standing behind you— not because the flowers are from the two men’s respective regions, but because they go well together, if that makes sense. 

The merchant leans on the stall, gazing at you curiously. “According to my customers, the scent varies from person to person. One customer told me she can smell Glaze Lily more than the Rainbow Rose. On the other hand, a recent customer informed me that she can smell the Rainbow Rose more than the Glaze Lily!”

You open your eyes and tilt your head, confused. You can smell both the Glaze Lily and Rainbow Rose— none of the scents were overtaking the other. While the perfume is quite fragrant and lovely, you don’t think this is for you. Plus, it’s pretty popular among the Chenyu Vale women, and you want something a little more… original. You want a signature scent that no other person on Teyvat can mimic. 

“I can smell both the Glaze Lily and Rainbow Rose just fine. However, this fragrance isn’t for me. Do you have something unique? I want something original, something people cannot mimic,” you say, placing the perfume down on the stall.

The woman strokes her chin before squatting down, digging through the stall while you rock back and forth on the balls of your feet. Even though this trip is initially for the Adeptea, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to the fragrance stall. Something about it captivates your attention and makes you want to buy something— definitely not because the fragrance bottles are beautiful (it is).

You peek at Neuvillette and Zhongli, scratching the back of your head with a sheepish smile. “Sorry if this is taking a while. I wanted something unique for myself,” you mutter, feeling heat rush to your cheeks.

Neuvillette smiles and strokes your hair. “There is nothing to apologize for, my dear. It’s not like we’re in a rush to return to the estate,” Neuvillette replies.

Zhongli nods, approaching you and Neuvillette. “I have booked us an inn for the night. We will not be able to return to the abode around this time, especially in weather like this,” Zhongli says, gazing at the now gray skies.

Your eyes widen at the realization. If the three of you have to stay at an inn for the night, how is that going to turn out? Speaking of the inn, will you three have separate bedrooms? Since Zhongli booked the room, are you sharing a room with Zhongli, and does Neuvillette have his own room? Or—

The merchant’s head peeks from the stall, her eyes wide with excitement. “I have found just the scent for you, my dear customer!” The woman fixes her disheveled hair before handing you a round perfume bottle. 

The bottle is a periwinkle color with gold and silver flecks scattered around the bottle. Silver vines wrapped around the bottle, and on those vines are cor lapis and noctilucous jade carved to look like blooming flowers. Zhongli raises his eyebrows while scrutinizing the bottle in your hands.

“If you don’t mind me asking, miss, what makes this fragrance special out of all the fragrances you sell?” Zhongli asks, never taking his eyes off the bottle.

You continue to examine the perfume bottle, enchanted by the appearance of the bottle. It has a sparkly squeeze bulb, tempting you into spraying it onto yourself. You and the merchant make eye contact. The woman grins and gestures to you to try it out yourself. You shrug, not thinking much of it, before pointing the perfume bottle at yourself and squeezing the squeeze bulb. You wince when you realize you sprayed way more than you intended.

“This fragrance is unique because whoever is wearing this scent will not only smell enchanting on the wearer, but only a small handful of people will be… charmed by the scent and the wearer,” she says, nodding with satisfaction.

You sniff the perfume, trying to figure out what the notes are. You’re no perfume expert, but it does have a bit of a unique smell to it. Zhongli and Neuvillette raise their eyebrows at the woman’s strange explanation of the so-called “unique” fragrance. 

“I don’t think this perfume is something I was looking for. Perhaps it’s not meant to be,” You sigh, handing the bottle back to the woman.

The woman frowns, taking the bottle from your hands and storing it in the cabinet of the stall. You, Zhongli, and Neuvillette bid the woman goodbye before heading to the inn. What a shame. You thought you were going to return to the abode with new perfume to wear, but you weren’t too fond of the scent of the perfume. It has an earthy scent, almost reminding you of what the air would smell like after heavy rain. If you remember correctly, there is a hint of mint and maybe Qingxin, if you’re not mistaken.

Zhongli wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. “Mora for your thoughts?”

“Oh, it’s nothing! I’m just a little disappointed that I ended up not buying anything from the fragrance merchant. It’s a shame the ‘unique’ fragrance isn’t as nearly special as what she made it out to be,” you reply, allowing Zhongli to steer you to your next destination as the skies get darker.

Neuvillette walks beside you, almost sandwiching you between him and Zhongli. The Chief Justice of Fontaine drapes his arm over your shoulder, giving them a comforting squeeze. “I understand that you’re disappointed about the outcome, but think of it this way: you have plenty of Mora to spend before we return to the estate tomorrow afternoon,” Neuvillette says.

You stop in your tracks, letting his words sink in. Neuvillette’s not wrong, and besides, you still haven’t bought the Adeptea you’ve been wanting to buy. After all, that was the point of your trip to Chenyu Vale, but the three of you were sidetracked by the things around you. You guess this is what happens if you travel with men older than Teyvat. 

You take three steps forward before turning to look at Zhongli and Neuvillette. “What you said is true, but I guess that is tomorrow me’s problem,” you shrug, “anyway, let’s go to the inn! It’s starting to sprinkle out here!” You grab their wrists before dragging them towards the large building.

The gust of wind allows both men behind you to catch a whiff of the perfume you sprayed on yourself. They freeze in their tracks, and the grips on your hands tighten, causing you to stumble back into them. 

You blink, craning your head up to see what they’re doing. Zhongli and Neuvillette bend down to sniff your neck. Goosebumps appear all over your body when you feel them hover near your neck to smell the perfume you have on. The tip of Neuvillette’s nose pokes your neck, making you involuntarily freeze. Their hot breaths fan over your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you try to remain calm while they continue to sniff your neck like a bloodhound. Without realizing it, Zhongli grabs underneath your chin and tilts your head up, exposing more of your neck.

Zhongli presses his nose against your neck, taking in deep breaths and breathing in the intoxicating scent of the perfume. Neuvillette closes his eyes, burying his nose into your collarbones and letting the smell of the perfume flood into his nose. You gulp, your heart thundering against your chest the more the two men press up against you.

“What’s gotten into you two?” You breathe, letting out a shaky sigh. 

Neuvillette and Zhongli ignore your question as they continue to bury their faces into your neck, occasionally licking and biting your neck. You lay your head on Zhongli’s shoulders while he continues to keep your head tilted back as he peppers kisses from your jawlines to your shoulders. 

“If you two want to have your ways with me, at least do it indoors and not where people can see,” you sputter, feeling heat pool into your lower regions. 

Upon hearing your words, Zhongli and Neuvillette stop what they’re doing and pull you to the inn. Zhongli checks you three into the inn and grabs the keys from the innkeeper’s hands before dragging you to the elevator with Neuvillette at your side. Once the elevator door closes, both men proceed with what they are doing.

Neuvillette stands behind you, his left arm around your waist while his right hand slips underneath your shirt. Zhongli stands before you, cupping your cheeks with both hands and pressing his lips against yours, devouring your lips. Zhongli grabs your right leg and wraps it around his waist, grinding against you. Your jaws drop, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Zhongli takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, grinding harder against your heat.

Before things can escalate, the elevator bell chimes, alerting the three of you that you have arrived at the floor where your rooms reside. Neuvillette and Zhongli drags you out of the elevator and to the room where you three will be staying. Now that you have some time to process what happened in the elevator, you can’t help but notice prominent tents forming in Zhongli and Neuvillette’s pants.

Neuvillette tosses you over his shoulders while Zhongli unlocks the door to the room. Once the door unlocks, Zhongli and Neuvillette step into the room. Neuvillette closes the door with his foot and locks the door without looking. You lay limp over Neuvillette’s shoulders. A wave of embarrassment washes over you when you feel how soaked your panties are.

Neuvillette tosses you onto the bed, making you bounce. You scan the room of the inn you’re staying at, realizing there’s only one bed in the room. Now that you think about it, Zhongli didn’t hand an extra key for another room at the inn. It seems like Zhongli never booked extra rooms— the three of you are going to sleep in the same bed for the night at the inn.

You prop yourself up on the bed, gazing at both men with wide eyes after seeing that they have removed their coats and are in the process of taking their gloves off and rolling their sleeves up to their elbows. 

“What has gotten into you two? You two are acting like you’re in a rut!” You squeak.

Neuvillette chuckles, shaking his head. “There’s nothing to worry about, dearest. Are we, your lovers, not allowed to savor this moment between us?” Neuvillette asks.

You warily look at Neuvillette. “I’m not against having intimate moments with both of you, but you two are acting strange,” you murmur. “It’s not like you two to display such affection in public. I am not against it, but you two are usually composed.”

Zhongli clears his throat, unbuttoning his shirt to expose his bare chest. “Forgive me, my dear. The perfume you have on is quite intoxicating. I cannot help but feel like I’m under a spell when I catch a whiff of the fragrance,” Zhongli says, now standing at the edge of the bed.

Zhongli rests one knee on the bed before grabbing you by the ankles. Without warning, Zhongli yanks you towards the edge, emitting a surprised squeak from you. Zhongli chuckles and rubs your cheek with his thumb before leaning down to pepper your face with gentle kisses. Zhongli grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours before pressing his lips against yours.

While you and Zhongli kiss, Neuvillette kneels before you and spreads your legs apart. Neuvillette slides his hands underneath the bands of your shorts before roughly tugging them down to your ankles and tossing them behind him. The Chief Justice of Fontaine then loops his index and middle finger around the bands of your panties, sliding them down your legs, gulping at the sight of your dripping entrance.

Neuvillette licks his lips before spreading your legs wider, leans forward, and latches his lips onto your entrance. You break your and Zhongli’s kiss, gasping when you feel Neuvillette’s warm tongue lapping and swirling at your entrance. Zhongli takes that as an opportunity to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. You softly whimper when Neuvillette penetrates your heat with his tongue while pressing his nose against the engorged and throbbing nerve.

Zhongli groans after freeing his throbbing cocks from his underwear. Your eyes grow wide, completely forgetting that Zhongli has more than one cock. Fuck, how could you forget so easily? Wait, if Zhongli has two of them, does that mean Neuvillette also has two cocks? What if he has more than two?

Zhongli taps your lips with the tip of his cock, signaling you to open your mouth. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out. Zhongli slides his cock into your mouth, moaning when the warmth of your mouth engulfs his cock. While sucking Zhongli’s cock, you reach for his second cock and begin pumping it at a steady pace. 

You nearly choke on Zhongli’s dick when you feel something penetrate your wet heat. You turn to see Neuvillette gently sliding his index and middle finger into your entrance, slow enough not to hurt you. He stretches your entrance, making sure you’re ready for what’s to come. Zhongli pushes your head down on his cock, making you swallow more. You wince, nearly gagging. You pause for a moment and close your eyes, trying to collect yourself.

You pull away from Zhongli’s cock before bringing the other one into your mouth to continue where you have left off. Zhongli wipes the stray tear in the corner of your eyes, pressing a kiss on your head as a silent apology for being a teeny bit rough on you. Even though he wasn’t rough on you in the slightest, he didn’t want to cause you any discomfort while doing anything intimate with you.

Neuvillette pulls away from your groin, pulling his fingers out of your entrance. Neuvillette sucks on his soaked fingers, maintaining eye contact with you while your mouth is occupied with sucking Zhongli’s second cock. Neuvillette stands up and unbuckles his belt, unzips his pants, and pulls his pants and underwear down. Unsurprisingly, two cocks spring from the confinement of his pants, slapping his lower abdomen. The mushroom tips of his cock are bright red and leaking with pre-cum. 

Oh, you are not going to make it out alive. Hell, someone’s going to have to carry around Chenyu Vale and back to the abode after today. You subconsciously pull Zhongli’s cock out of your mouth and glance at Zhongli’s cocks, then at Neuvillette’s cocks. Who has bigger dicks between the two of them?

Zhongli raises his eyebrows at you, pulling your hair into a ponytail and tilting your head up. “What are you thinking about?” Zhongli mutters, his voice thick with lust.

You stare at Zhongli, trying to come up with an excuse. Neuvillette chuckles, rubbing his hands on your thighs as he parts your legs. Neuvillette grabs one of his cocks and rubs them against your folds, coating his aching cock with your slick. 

You shake your head, heat rushing to your cheeks. “I wanted to know what’s causing you two to act this way, that’s all,” you finally sputter out an excuse.

Zhongli continues to gaze at you with a raised eyebrow, tapping your bottom lip with the tip of his cock. You reluctantly open your mouth, still hoping that Zhongli bought your poor excuse of a response. While you are curious about what made Zhongli and Neuvillette act so strange, like an animal in a rut, you don’t want the two men to get competitive over who has a bigger package. 

After a few minutes of Neuvillette rubbing his cock between your folds, Neuvillette nudges your entrance with the bulbous tip of his cock. You’re too busy sucking and licking Zhongli’s cock to notice that Neuvillette is about to bury his cock inside you. Without warning, Neuvillette slides his thick cock into your pulsating entrance. The smooth and moist walls of your entrance clenches around Neuvillette’s cock, making him tense and bury his face into your neck, groaning. After Neuvillette is balls deep inside you, he relaxes and reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. 

“You’re very tight; relax for me, dearest,” Neuvillette murmurs into your ears, his chest rapidly rising and falling. 

You whimper, taking Zhongli’s cock out of your mouth while writhing beneath Neuvillette’s body. “It hurts, Neuvillette,” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut as you dig your nails into his back.

Neuvillette kisses the side of your head as he reassures you. Neuvillette reaches down and starts pinching and rubbing your swollen bundle of nerves. You squeeze and pulse around his cock, both legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you. You and Neuvillette groan when Neuvillette is now buried at the hilt. 

Neuvillette wraps his arms around your waist before pulling you farther up the bed. Neuvillette lays on his back with you lying on top of him. He tangles his fingers in your hair before crashing his lips against yours. While you and Neuvillette are messily making out, Zhongli completely strips off his clothes and comes up behind you.

Zhongli lifts his hand and slaps your right ass cheek, causing you to jolt and break the kiss between you and Neuvillette. Zhongli chuckles and shakes his head, placing both hands on your waist before gently bouncing you on Neuvillette’s cock. You softly moan, slowly riding Neuvillette’s cock with the help of Zhongli. 

Once you’re used to Neuvillette’s size, you start to take over, increasing the speed. Neuvillette wraps one arm around your waist while the other is on your shoulder, forcing you to stay in one place as he pistons his cock into your wet heat. 

Your slick trails down your leg, soaking Neuvillette’s pubic hairs and lap. Neuvillette takes the opportunity to slide his second cock into the same hole, causing you to tense and dig your nails into his shoulders.

Zhongli spreads your ass cheeks and spits. He reaches down and gathers your slick and rubs your ass hole. You knew this day would come, but you didn’t know that it was going to happen today. You squeeze your eyes shut and bury your face in Neuvillette’s neck after feeling Zhongli’s cock probing at your ass. 

Zhongli slowly inserts his cock, stretching out your ass. You groan and bite down on Neuvillette’s shoulders, sending shivers down Neuvillette’s spine. As Zhongli continues to slowly sink his cock into your ass, Neuvillette licks your neck and takes a deep whiff of the intoxicating scent of your skin and the perfume. Neuvillette continues to thrust his cocks into your entrance; the sound of skin-to-skin and squelching fills the air, accompanied by occasional moans and whimpers from the three of you.

Zhongli gathers your hair into a ponytail and tilts your head to the side, revealing your neck to him. Zhongli leans down and presses his nose against your neck, taking deep breaths before letting out a breathy moan in your ears. Zhongli squeezes your chest with his unoccupied hand, rutting into your backside.

Zhongli and Neuvillette make eye contact and glare at each other. Zhongli looks away, gritting his teeth while Neuvillette continues to hammer his cocks into your heat. Zhongli stares at your neck for a moment, gradually slowing his pace. 

Should he do it? Zhongli shakes his head, trying to ignore the voices in his head that are trying to convince him to mark you— claim you as his and only his. Zhongli thrusts hard, causing you to jolt forward and moan like an absolute whore. 

“Fuck, Zhongli!” You whine, blindly reaching behind you to grip his bicep.

Fuck it. Zhongli buries his face into your neck and bites down on your neck. Your eyes widen, and you let out a strained gasp, whimpering in pain. Tears pool in your eyes the harder Zhongli bites down on your neck, drawing blood.

Neuvillette glares at Zhongli before mimicking Zhongli’s actions. The Chief Justice of Fontaine gently kisses the other side of your neck before biting your neck just as hard as Zhongli. You wail, thrashing in Zhongli and Neuvillette’s arms as they refuse to let go of your neck. You feel warm liquid gushing from your neck and streaming down your collarbones and chest.

It takes you approximately five minutes to realize that there’s a tight knot forming in your lower abdomen the more Zhongli and Neuvillette continue to piston their two cocks into your holes while biting your neck like a feral animal. Before you know it, the knot in your lower abdomen snaps, sending you into momentary bliss as you cum around Neuvillette’s cocks.

You don’t remember what happens after that. If you have to think hard, you’re certain that Zhongli and Neuvillette switch places to continue to rail you through the night at the inn. Whoever’s in the nearby rooms, you sincerely apologize for causing a disturbance with your two lovers. You really hope you won’t get a complaint letter or call from the innkeeper. 

- Present -

Kazuha waves his hand in front of your face after you blanked out for who knows how long. “Hello? Are you still here with us?” Kazuha teasingly asks, chuckling.

You snap out of your thoughts and clear your throat, looking away. There’s no way in hell you’re telling them the truth about how you got the bite marks on your neck. Albedo and Baizhu nudge the others away from you to give them room to inspect the bite marks on your neck. Baizhu sighs and tilts your head side to side to get a better look while Changsheng scrutinizes you— oh, the snake knows the perpetrators. You give the snake a pleading look, hoping she won’t rat Neuvillette and Zhongli out.

Changsheng shakes her head with disapproval. “It’ssss quite obvioussss how [Y/N] received thosssse markssss on their neck,” Changsheng says, twisting her head to glance over at Neuvillette and Zhongli, narrowing her eyes at them.

“Oh? And who do you think it could be, Changsheng?” Lyney asks, raising his eyebrows at the white snake draping over Baizhu’s shoulders with interest and curiosity. 

You contemplate whether you should lunge at Changsheng to keep her mouth shut, but you decide not to do it because you know that will make you look suspicious— well, even more suspicious than you already seem. Albedo hums, cleaning the bite marks on your neck before briefly pausing.

You look at Albedo, worried, “What’s with that look on your face?”

Albedo chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s nothing to worry about, [Y/N]. But the bite marks around your neck should be healed within a few days to a week. Depending on how deep the bites are, it could take up to almost a month for it to be healed,” Albedo says, handing the white gauze to Baizhu.

You’re not entirely sure if the bites will heal because when you glanced in the mirror, the bite marks were glowing. Even though the ache didn’t last as long, it does ache a lot— probably not as much as yesterday, but it’s aching. 

“The two of you bit [Y/N], didn’t you?” Wriothesley asks, raising his eyebrows at Zhongli and Neuvillette, the corner of his lips quirking up.

Neuvillette clears his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. “I would do no such thing,” Neuvillette replies.

Everyone in the room raises their eyebrows at the Chief Justice of Fontaine, not believing his response. Zhongli, on the other hand, sighs and chooses not to reply to Wriothesley’s comment. Despite choosing to stay silent, the red ears and cheekbones say another.

Childe pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, glaring at Zhongli and Neuvillette, steam practically coming from his ears. You shut your eyes, hoping no one will start a fight after discovering who marked you.

“I can’t believe you two marked [Y/N] before I did!” Childe exclaims. “I should be the first one to do it, not you two!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, temples beginning to throb as more people start to shout in agreement. Great, now your body is going to be littered with marks from these men. It’s not like you mind it… you’re just worried about who will try to make theirs more prominent for other people to see. You peek at Zhongli and Neuvillette, only to see them subtly smile at each other. Your mouth is agape after realization dawns on you. 

They planned this entire thing.

Note: I understand that Neuvillette is probably not older than Teyvat like Zhongli, but for the sake of this fic, he is now. Wow, this is the final fanfic of the year and the first smut in forever. My goal for 2025 is to hopefully write and post more fanfics! And catch up with Genshin and HSR quests. The next fanfic I will be posting after this one is a Love&Deepspace one! Oh! Before I reopen my Discord server, I am looking for new moderators for my server! So, if you are interested in being a moderator for my server, here is the link to the form [HERE]! The deadline is January 7th, 2025! ^^ If you are chosen, I or one of my moderators will contact you through either Tumblr, Discord, or AO3 before the server is reopened! Anyway, To all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist: @uniquecutie-puffs, @rubyninja1, @loveariel

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