Tumgik
#but his interactions with family are always so... broken
tarjapearce · 4 months
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Heathens (Pt. 1)
Priest! Miguel O'Hara x Nun!Reader
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art by @maxro_art on IG (Her Deliverance AU is ❤️❤️🤌🏻)
WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. If you're sensitive regarding religion, please don't read this. Masturbation in holy places, explicit language, wet dreams, Female anatomy, oral ( F receiving) Gentle Dom Miguel, Corruption kink, overused tropes cause yeah, a tinge of yandere undertones if you squint, mutual lust, Not Proofread ~
Summary: Father O'Hara had a little lamb ~
A/N: Another for the Miguelverse ~ Reblogs and comments are much appreciated c:
Main Masterlist
From all the places you could've find solace from war, The house of God was the least of lieus in your list. Not that you had a choice.
Family long gone after unsuspected explosions decimated your town, followed by constant tragedies such as losing friends along the way either by enemy and merciless hands or sickness. In the end, it was only you. You had outlived them all despite your short age. And now, they lived crammed up in your memories.
Happy, smiling and very much alive. Sometimes you'd see familiar faces on stranger's bodies. Grief had slowly nested within your soul and when all hope seemed lost, the chapel had saved you from what surely would end up in your premature death.
The blackest of black matched the crispest white you had ever seen, they were all donned in their beatific robes, prayer beads dangling at every gentle step they did. And there it was, epiphany unfolding itself before your experienced in horror eyes. It was your call.
All the answers to your laments and aching heart were sent as them. Nuns of the Mistbourne Parish. A church located in the outskirts of a now rundown by conflict Nueva York. The church that now played a major role in taking in as much people within their sacred walls, before they could be dispatched to a more adequate place.
Without hesitation, you had joined. And now, six years later you still remained with them. Early twenties had settled right for you as a nun. Ever devoted, compassionate, and diligent.
As time went on, the main city was reconstructed, burying it's dark tragedy under freshly built towers, hiding the pain under the rugged carpet full of concrete and wire homes, like nothing ever happened. Like if war had never stepped upon it and gave it a much needed renewal at people's lives expenses.
But no matter how many changes time brought, life in Mistbourne's Parish remained the same. Untouched by the technological advances from the outer world. There was always something to do, as simple as it was. And so far, you've been satisfied with it.
The only alterations worth of mention was your holy family expanding.
A new couple additions to the staff. More sisters, an eighty percent of them were beyond fifty. You were the youngest, their child. After all some ended up raising you within the house.
And him. The new priest.
The tallest and bulkiest man you've ever seen. As much as staring was considered rude and borderline a sin, it was unavoidable to do so, when his rusty brown eyes fell upon you. Their color unique, like he was. Never in your life had you seen someone like him, or another man besides the butcher and the guard. He had definitely been a regular man before coming here.
The soft weary expression lines in his sharp countenance revealed his own fair of lived experiences.
He towered over you, crisp white dot on his black rimmed neck line, parading his status with modest pride, and golden praying beads dangling on his narrow hips, you held yours while asking forgiveness for keep staring.
"Father."
Father O'Hara. In his mid thirties, broken family also torn by war, wearing his vows in the shape of a ring on his right hand.
"Sister"
His voice deep yet gentle, like a lullaby. His steps took him away to his own residence. The rectory outside the church.
It made sense as to how some workers were renovating it in the past few weeks. The parish last priest had been sent off in sacred duties, only to realize later that he had killed a man. Cops and detectives surely made a show out of it.
Dark times, according to Sister Lianne, one of your mother figures. But now, Father O'Hara had taken his place, erasing all traces of the previous man with concise and pithy actions.
He took his role seriously. Said masses on sundays, visited the sick, baptized people; but his most popular feat was to hear the confessions. The most intimate secrets revealed to him by either your fellow sisters or people from the town that came to expiate their sins in hope to be forgiven.
You'd sometimes run into each other, bumping casually in the narrow wooden floored halls, you'd often apologize, only to reciprocate a polite smile on both ends. He'd sometimes help you out by carrying things a bit too heavy, or you'd help him out lighting up the altar for his speech.
Yet, his hands in one occasion took an accidental taste of your body dimensions underneath your beatific robes, while preventing you from falling down the stairs. He'd scold you for being careless and carrying things that obscured your sight.
After many sorries on your behalf, you returned to the cells and went straight to your own dorm, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
His hands felt burning upon remembering the dents of your form, the curve of your waist and certainly the warmth that irradiated from you, so so close from his.
Unexpectedly it had brought memories from his past. His old life where he'd have his lovely and temporary companion for the night impaled deliciously with himself before war and hell broke loose. Before he was forced by the subversives that raided his town to create a new fake identity in the spot as they heard him speak spanish or fight a war he hadn't started, much less would end. And so, his life as Father O'Hara begun.
Odd enough, the sudden and thoughtless choice had granted him peace after witnessing so many terrors his fellow human could be capable of. His need of help has always been stronger than anything and when he finished licencing some sacrifices were required.
Poverty vows weren't an issue since his previous life had been modest yet good enough to go by. Little difference between his current lifestyle.
The obedience vow took him a little longer to fully yield. But he accomplished it to a T, just to avoid more trouble. He faked it until he made it.
His chastity vow had been a quite the challenge to perfect, but no matter how much the temptations paraded before him in the many parishes he was assigned to, he didn't give in. His libido had been sapped out of his body, like a campfire after completing it's useful cycle.
Not because of his brand new sanctity invested by holier-than-thou elders, but rather a broken mind full of grievance and other negatives that always haunted him. The gunshots and bombings too fresh in his mind.
It had been years since he touched someone in a way that wasn't holy. Since he had provoked things in someone else that clearly would make him go under the laicization from the clergy without second guessings.
Until he held you the other day.
Both of your eyes too enraptured in eachother that had sent an igniting spark to his spine. Reviving all those inactive nerves he thought his existencial toll severed long ago. His eyes had gave a brief rake over your face.
Wide and round eyes staring back, both in awe and surprise straight into his soul. Nose flaring softly just like your mouth, whose bottom lip trembled at the little erratic breaths your lungs exhaled upon being in physical contact with a man for the first time in ever, while cheeks bloomed with a not so discreet flush. And your body heat.
Jesus all mighty.
It was dangerously tempting. For a brief moment his past self had taken over, but quickly vanished upon hearing steps. Earning you to fix your crucifix and cowl nervously and him to fist his hands to refrain himself to take another taste and fix his collar and cassock.
To his conclusion, the robes you wore did not match what was underneath. He noted much, but having you wear that loose habit only fuelled his now active and sinful imagination. An opposite from your habits' purpose.
Priest life was hard, and the Celibacy vows were his biggest damnation. Mind often plagued with 'I shouldn't have done this.' 'This is ridiculous' 'Fucking idiot' 'Why did I even lie about this?' But even so, priesthood was better than ending up dead or mutilated by mines somewhere in the battlefield, in the middle of a war he didn't started, much less would end.
Government later was forcibly recruiting all those men, be them widowed or married. It didn't matter. War wasn't for him. Neither Priesthood.
But he'd bear it. He'd bear it until he was put in another parish church full of older and witty ladies he'd definitely wouldn't lust after.
----
"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."
The sweet voice behind the confessional punctured walls, perked up his ears. He had memorized a lot of things, your voice included.
"I... I haven't confessed in weeks. But it grows me concerned that... my mind is somewhere else."
Silence. You were met with silence as expected, it also encouraged you to keep talking.
"A man has flooded my thoughts and no matter how much I try to occupy myself, he's there. Leading me to temptation and sin."
A man?
His brow quirked as he slanted over the little wooden division between you, to hear better and take a peek on your face. The only men he could think of was the guard, the butcher and himself. The only men inhabiting the same area as you.
"How does this man tempts you?"
"He... He visits. In my dreams I mean and..."
A low 'forgive me, God' echoed in your stall. His throat dried and his hands rested on each side of his knees, gripping at the fabric of his pants.
"He does things I know I shouldn't partake in... But, it feels too real."
"You sound scared. Does it frightens you?"
"Very much so. But it is a strange sort of fear, Father."
"What kind of fear then?"
It took you a long pause to muster
"A fear of him stopping his visits in my mind."
He gulped.
Your hands took the crucifix and held it tighter, "For him to stop doing such sinful things to me, even in my dreams."
"Have you sinned in the carnal affairs?"
"N-No. I would never. I've never engaged in them, Father."
His groin twitched, as a hand raked over his scalp. A shaky breath that was forced to come out in silence. Only when he thought you couldn't be more innocent, there you were proving him wrong.
"Ever?"
"I promise to you with my life, I've never."
"I must know" He wetted his lips with his tongue, "What kind of things does this man does to you?"
"W-What?"
Your spine straightened up instantly, eyes wild, staring another hole into the already punctured division. Cinnamon color in his skin, the only brief glimpse you managed to see. But even so, his gentle yet cornering voice brought you down from your initial jump.
"I need to know, so I can dictate a penance."
The flush on your cheeks returned, burning bright upon remembering the all too lucid dream you've been having about your secret man. That, even though visited frequently, you still didn't know his face, just his body as it smothered yours wholy in a constant merciless and scorching rut.
All what you remembered was him feasting between your legs like a starved man. His hands maneuvering your soft mounds to then give a gentle squeeze.
"His hands are the ones that bring the sin, Father."
"Explain yourself"
His voice was sultry, buttery rich and smooth on the other side of the stall. A subtle order. To your dismay, that same demon had a similar voice tone. Alluring, speaking to you in a foreign language it had you mewling and asking for forgiveness every time you remembered, cause you had begged the faceless man for more.
"He touches and... t-tastes places I shouldn't allow no man to delve in." With a thick gulp you continued, "His tongue is... marvelous."
His eyes widened for a second as his hand hovered over his crotch
"Marvelous?"
"I feel the biggest sinner by admitting this. Please, do forgive me."
"Accountability is part of the process."
He tried to sound as professional as he could, but little did you know his mind was torturing his already crumbling resolve with such vivid details. Celibacy wasn't a problem, until now. Hearing such sinful words coming from such a unsuspecting thing like yourself, a virgin that is, made his old self to re-emerge.
Disguising himself as a sheep, while he fought through his holy learning years to tame his wolfish appetite.
There were plenty of ewes in the flock , but so far the only one that made his mouth water was you. A perfect little lamb. And now, this. We're you set to making him break his vows?
No. You weren't. He was reaching his limits to break celibacy and you were just having wet dreams about someone that definitely made him wonder about your past life. A past lover? No. Not even that. A possession? A demon? No. Definitely not.
He had heard things whenever on lunch duty. Mindless talk that revealed more to him from others and you than they intended to. You, a nun. Picked up from a ravaged village nearby and raised within  the nuns, meaning, you had zero idea of what pleasure meant.
He believed, but wasn't a complete blinded idiot to faith. Your body was asking for physical and forbidden relief. Just like his.
But again, the golden band around his right hand not only forbid but also was the perpetual reminder of what was a stake.
"I know, Father. But... this man has such power over me that has pushed me to sin. He... he has pushed me to take such vulgar matters in my own hands."
Maker's mercy
His cock twitched harder and he was unable hold back and gave a firm  squeeze while biting his lip to quiet himself at the long forgotten and heady pleasure that was drowning his body in an alarming rate.
As if done of being fed lies and a quick and sloppy handjob for ages. It was disgusting how easy was to sin, how well his body ached and reacted to such stimulus. How effortlessly his old habits had caught up to him.
He was the one that needed a penance now, cause he couldn't shake the image of you spread with your legs wide open, naked, sliding your fingers in between your weeping folds. You'd certainly have your mouth shut or lips bitten to avoid having anyone hear you.
He had closed his eyes while his jaw clenched, occasionally sweeping his tongue over his lips to keep them moist.
"Say it. Say your sin."
He commanded in a voice that had your cheeks flustered and your pearly nub a throb. His hand half squeezed half stroked over his clothed groin. Swollen and needy cock begging to be set free and properly taken care of.
"I..." A dry gulp and your hands went to your crotch, begging your nature to behave. Cheeks impossibly red.
"I've enjoyed touching myself after dreaming a man... f-fucks me, Father."
The word 'fuck' coming out your delicious looking yet pure lips, had his teeth gnawing at the insides of his cheek, self control harder to keep under the leash. It barked, howled even demanded for more explicit details.
Instead, he sighed quietly and cleared his throat. The sudden noise had you gripping the skirt of your habit in shame.
Miguel didn't say much besides the prayer of absolution and a couple of more prayers as your penance. The same right hand that was squeezing his cock was now being kissed by you, to confirm your forgiveness. Plump, warm and soft lips caressed his ring finger.
And once you were gone, his hand took control on its own, slid under his soutane to stroke himself. If you felt like a sinner, he was the devil himself.
The vice like grip in his own cock made him shudder, sensation foreign yet so welcoming after years without it. A little whine escaped past his gaping mouth, exhaling pecaminous breaths as he stroked like teenage boy that just discovered masturbation for the time ever. Sloppy, desperate and wet motions echoed in the now sullied stall.
He fisted his hand tighter, thick fingers coaxing a much needed release, hips rutting into his choking hand. Quiet whimpers and an array of curses flew out his mouth.
His flushed tip swayed and shook under his own rough ministrations while his jaw clenched, he clawed at the chair when hot and thick spurts of his cum dribbled down his hand and wrist before time; pooling in the hollow of his palm while earning a gutural growl that dissolved into a shaky whimper, as he curled against the wooden and punctured wall for a brief lapse of seconds to regain his composure.
"Fuck..." He had to lay against his chair to keep the light-headedness at bay, drowning in his own made pleasure, panting like he had run a marathon for hours.
He shouldn't have lied back ago. And  definitely shouldn't have become a priest. He was soiling their already tainted reputation. His old self was back to stay.
He cleaned up his hand under his robes to then leave to change. He was given a glimpse as you were picking up some harvest in the orchard while he was making his way back home.
---
Window's glasses echoed with the soft rain. The parish has been quiet during weekdays, but busy for you. As winter approaches the harvest must be picked, the grains sorted and the meats stored.
You saw Father O'Hara less and less, and when you did, they were mere glimpses. He was as busy in meetings with other priests, or preparing for the mass that was now given twice a week.
If you weren't in the garden or the laundry, you were in the choir.
Lingering yet brief gazes chased each other. He had heard some nuns speaking about him, some had wonderful things to say, saying that he had been one of the most efficient priests the church has had.
Others mentioned between hushed and bashful whispers about his physical condition and how they caught him go for runs at crack of dawn a couple of times.
And you, just wanted to go to confession again and ask for forgiveness. Not to spill the advantures you had in your dreams with a man that oddly resembled like Father O'Hara, but to unleash your heart's desires to wonder what was beyond the parish.
It was your life, all you've ever known so far. But one of those trips to the city during a beneful visit to another location, had left you amazed. How could a world so different like yours could be considered bad and straying?
But again, vows. Your vows bound you, and once broken, there was no turning back. But right now all that mattered was to get to the dorms. The rest was out in another visit to the city, you were to stay to finish your tasks in the kitchen.
Weather changed so abruptly that one moment you were taking the last basket of vegetables inside, to then run for the dorms to seek refuge. But they were far and the only thing in sight was Father's O'Hara rectory.
It was either getting a terrible fever from the cold and unforgiving rain or ask him to lend you an umbrella to mitigate the glacial numbness spreading through your body. Another reason you barely went out during these days, rains in the countryside were merciless.
Miguel was tending his own garden when the rain begun drenching. Even more when the thunders broke the peaceful white noise. He removed his soutane and shirt off leaving his inner vestments free, but the desperate knock on his door made his undressing ritual to stop.
While quirking an eyebrow, he approached the door and opened it. Eyes widened in surprise upon seeing you, soaked through your bones. lips blue and shivering from the cold.
"P-Please-"
"Jesus. Come in."
He ushered you in, then rushed to get a towel. A frown in his face deepened upon hearing your teeth clatter, clothes stuck to you like a second skin.
"C-Can I... borrow your... u-umbrella?"
Without much though he smoothened the towel against your face, drying it.
"An umbrella? Really?!"
A vehement shake of your head, while trying to get him off you.
"You're freezing cold, the dorms are too far for you to leave. Don't be stubborn."
"I... I don't h-have clothes."
You mumbled through rattling teeth while your eyes darted hazily over his naked torso. He sighed.
"Unbelievable. You're freezing to death and you're worried about clothes. Get them off, I'll put them to dry."
He grumbled while taking more logs into the fire to what would be his living room. If it wasn't for the glacial and biting freeze that refused to leave your body and the foggy thinking in your brain, your cheeks would be beyond red. Crimson even from such simple act.
A weak nod you gave. Your hands stopped bracing your shivering body to focus on removing the cowl and headdress. Releasing through shaky motions your soaked hair that wasted no time to stick on your face and neck.
The next was your crucifix, and praying beads, the tempo you removed them could make a slug to easily win the race, this alarmed him greatly. He had seen what hypothermia did, way before turning himself into this holy persona.
Without much thought, he peeled off your habit that weighed you down.
"Qué mierda más pesada" (Such a heavy shit)
He held you by one arm as he removed the outer layer off. Your eyes drooped and he gave you a little shake.
"Hey, hey, look at me."
Eyes concerned raking over and it dawned on you. Those eyes, the same beautiful and unique eyes were the same that visited in your dreams.
A difficult gulp rolled down your throat as Miguel kept undressing you while grunting. Wet clothes were a pain in his beatific ass. Shivering dicreased, but your lips remained blue, a new shade of purple drawing over them.
"I-It's so cold" You mumbled through laborious breaths.
"Course it's cold. You're soaked! What were you even doing?"
The way he scolded you felt like someone you've known for years was giving you a lecture. So casual, homey, normal. It was Miguel O'Hara speaking, not Father Miguel. The ever gentle and patient man you've been helping.
"Jesús bendito, con cuánta cosa te vistes." (Holy Jesus, so many layers.)
He murmured while pushing you to his chest as he removed the dress that covered your underwear. It felt like a heatless body had been thrown over him, but the warmth irradiating from him felt heavenly. Your form instinctively nuzzled your head on his chest. He had to stop to gulp at the sensations
Even though his mind slapped itself, His couldn't help but wander over your shivering and weak body.
"W-Wait"
A small dark patch hovered above the joint of your legs. Taut peaks followed by lovely areoles ever standing and shivering under the flimsy white fabric of a short nightgown that proved even harder to remove since it clung to you like a second skin, refusing to abandon your body.
He peeled you off of everything despite your protests, but was sufficiently prude to not look over your naked form. A minute too slow and it would be late. Like the young boy in his arms, that had died out of cold once the subversive groups arrived in the forsaken town, they had forced him and the rest to go through a frozen river. He made it, but the boy didn't.
His mind wasn't in the tip of his cock.
That will come later.
But his brain had only one single purpose right now. To keep you alive but for that he needed keep you warm.
Despite the recklessness of his actions, he pulled a freshly folded duvet around  while pulling you ontop of his chest and sat together near the fire. Hands moving to dry your hair as much as he could. Your skin was full of goosebumps, frosty to touch, that relished into any source of heat available. His torso, the duvet and the raging bonfire made your head spin.
It felt like his hands, rubbing some life back into your arms while he shielded your body, embracing your form with his torso and limbs. Like a paramedic on duty. Your cheek smooshed against his solid chest, it made him shudder with your own coldness but eventually the body heat treatment would be effective.
"Sorry" it was all you managed before your teeth shuddered again, and his fingers caressed your neck, placing a new wave of delicious heat on your skin.
"You'll be fine."
Your body was slowly but surely returning to it's temperature. Miguel remained there, basking you within his body, fingers gingerly caressing as much cold skin as he could under the duvet. Even his breath provided a little heat. Your erratic breaths collided against his skin, earning a discreet shudder from him.
You had drifted off to limbo, trying to sleep a bit, but unable to completely do so. Not when a man, the Parish Father nonetheless, was holding and nursing you back to an acceptable temperature with his own.
"Father O'Hara..."
Miguel's ears perked up upon you mentioning his name.
"It's Miguel."
He mumbled while drawing lazy circles on your lower back. The fire and the duvet had kept you toasty to curl even more towards him. Teeth no longer clattering.
"Thank you, Father."
"Stop."
His eyes rolled in annoyance, as his hands stopped caressing your skin to then rub his face.
"Stop calling me that."
"But that's your-"
"I don't like it."
He grumbled while looking down at you.
"Call me Miguel."
"I can't do that. Feels too disrespectful."
"I'm not Father O'Hara here, understood?"
You nodded
"Are you cold?"
"I am. Not as before but yes. Has it stopped raining?"
His own smell was making your mind a puddle, some of that fragrant incense remained etched on him.
"No. Just got worse."
You sighed while resting your head on his chest. Heartbeats a mellow lullaby.
"I'm sorry for all of this."
"You were cold and soaked." He pointed dully and bored.
The duvet was brought closer to your chest while staring at the flames. Fingers tracing a lazy and mindless pattern in his abdomen.
"I was picking up the last batch of harvest when rain poured on me."
Your toes curled in as a soft breeze flickered the fire and he tilted his head to watch you closer.
"Now I'll have to explain why there isn't enough corn."
"We'll go by. It's ok."
"Are my clothes ready yet?"
A snort that  would be translated into an 'Are you kidding me?', your brow furrowed.
"You'd be lucky if they get dry during the night."
Another defeated sigh. But a sudden thought however made your cheeks burn faintly.
"D-Did you see me naked?"
"No."
Oh.
There was a silent pause before you spoke again. Curiosity tempting.
"Have you seen other women naked?"
He huffed playfully while pushing your hair away from your lovely and sweet face.
"Yes. I was a regular man before all of this."
His fingers curled up in his hand, morphing into a lazy fist
"Do you miss it?"
"Would be a liar to say if I don't."
"You... You've had sex before?"
He chuckled while with an open palm, took a taste of your skin, deliberately roaming your lower back. You shuddered.
"I did. Plenty of times."
Your audible gasp made his eyes droop hazily in a smirking grimace.
"I was told it felt marvelous."
You looked up at him and he pulled your chin upwards, he really had to keep his restrain under a leash to not take you here and there, instead, he cupped your face and hovered his lips over yours
"Do you want me to teach you, Sister?"
He was the demon. The very same one that visited in your dreams and left you a soaked mess. A little too late you'd noticed that he wasn't wearing his vow ring. It was placed somewhere else you truly couldn't care less at the moment.
You only nodded.
"Use your words, dear"
"Please", you gulped, "Teach me."
It was in that moment that he sealed your lips with his. Your first kiss ever. Chaste and sweet at the beginning that slowly turned into this obscene display of his mouth assaulting yours with his tongue in between gentle licks and bites of his lips.
A shaky whine then a whimper escaped your throat upon feeling his hands skimming down your spine. He only let you go when you tapped out for air.
"How often am I on your mind, pequeña?"
Finally the demon in your dreams had turned into a reality. Eyes were closed, unable to look at yourself melting under his touch. Nipples perked against his chest.
Plump and hot lips caressed yours but they stopped. Hands pulled you upwards, Miguel turned you around so your back was now colliding with his chest.
"You're still cold."
Cheeks grew impossibly red while he slowly peeled off the duvet out of your body, leaving you bare before him. You gulped as he moved your hair to a side and slowly kissed up and down your neck.
His hands were unable to resist any more and cupped your mounds, like in your dream. Calloused palms, rough against soft breast.
"Qué maravilla. Is this how your dream goes?
Legs smothered together, a little strip of hair etched to your pubic mount. He hummed in appreciation to then part your legs above his. Cunt pulsing at the coolness of air brushing past it.
Both of your legs dangled ontop of his as you remained nested above. Your heart beat at the playful moves his middle and index finger pulled on your nipple as his free hand darted over the joint of your inner thighs. You could feel him trembling underneath, the restrain made his breath hitch.
Your own turned erratic once more as he slid three fingers in between your folds. A shy Ah escaped your lips while he used two of them to part the outer labia
"Look at that, little one. Is that what you touch when thinking of me?"
Drunk eyes darted between your legs and his skillful hand, the engorged and pearly clit peeked out as one of his fingers flickered slowly. Focusing the right amount of pressure in it that had your moans shaky. He paused to adjust his fingers as they caressed and rubbed as much flesh as they could.
Mouth etched to your ear. Deep and needy breaths fanned behind you
"So so pretty. Look at that"
He made a show of his fingers coating themselves in your slick. One of his digits hovered over your entrance, slowly it disappeared inside. A muffled groan echoed in the void space
A wet and shlicking sound came from his ministrations, head unable to move, too enraptured into watching him sliding in and out. Skin bloomed with a new wave of goosebumps as his tongue licked your neck and earlobe, rewarding you for taking one finger deliciously, that he licked up clean before going back to rub at your clit.
"Want to add another?"
A breathless and hissing yes.
You didn't know who was with you right now since Father O'Hara couldn't. Your brain still refused to believe they were the same man. One preached and talked mass every Sunday, the other had your head spinning while his fingers explored your insides with such gentleness it only increased your whimpers and need for something more and bigger within you.
"Does that feel good, Hm?"
A dumb nod while more escaped your mouth repeatedly
"More?"
"Please!"
How could he deny to such petition? Even most when you were gripping him so deliciously and pulsating with every stroke he delivered in, grazing at your sweetest spot.
"Like this?"
He increased the tempo and your breath hitched, hips moving to meet his fingers aiding them to reach deeper and deeper.
Breaths turned into short and shallow pants, blood rushed to your cheeks. One of his digits pushed past between your lips meeting your moist muscle that wasted no time into kissing it. All you could hear was yourself and your weeping pussy that demanded for more.
But they weren't enough. Brain was sent into an override when the climax washed over you. All the pent up need and lust drowned you. Strong pulsations dictated the contractions that trapped and milked Miguel's fingers. Mind split in two in a shattering and core shaking spasm.
Mouth gaped, eyes heady and drunk with blind hot pleasure, body convulsed while an array of mumbles and clumsy curses flew out of your mouth to finally end with a delicious quivering cry.
"It's okay, shh, it's okay, pequeña." He cooed you through it while kissing your neck. Heart pounding in your ears.
It took you a moment to breath properly. How could you have missed this? How could you remain so ignorant to this? Alienated from something you were often told it was dirty and condemning.
He had only touched in the right places and you were melting. But why stopping there? You knew he also wanted you, his hard on pressing over your lower back, begging to set free.
"M-More"
He shook his head with a proud smile
"Can't do that, preciosa"
A capricious whine came through your throat, "Why not?"
"Cause, as much as I'd love to take you until you recite the bible backwards to me, you know what could happen."
"You don't want me, then? Why stopping now?"
"Far from that. And we must be discreet. Wouldn't want you to be whipped by Sister Lianne."
He took your hand and kissed your wrist. While his other limb pulled you closer to him.
"I am the only one that shall leave marks on you, my dear. Is that clear?"
"Yes, but-" He took your chin in a gentle but firm grip.
"Is that clear?"
You nodded with a pout.
"Lay on the bed."
"What? "
"Lay on the bed, so I can taste you."
Miguel could fulfil that fantasy. With Bambi-like steps you pushed yourself up and walked over his bed. Plush surface welcomed your body under a creak.
"Spread them."
Toes curled up for a second before spreading them open. Clit already tingling with a foreign yet needy sensation.
He kneeled before you, like he did every day he worshipped the Lord. But this time it wasn't God, but you. Nose nuzzled over your inner thighs while taking a whiff of your scent. Tantalizing and so alluring for his own senses.
Slow and deliberate kisses were placed above your flesh, the strip of hair that decored your pussy, to finally sink in between soaked folds.
The mewl you gave only made him feast upon you. Hands grope the sheets by instinct as he spreaded you further.
His tongue lapped and curled at your hole, slurping it without refrain and inhibitions. Devouring it like it would be his last meal.
Your dream had felt too vivid, yes, but this was completely different. This was in a whole new different level. His corruption had tainted your soul and it was gladly welcomed into your arms.
Legs twitched and shook while your head was thrown back, chest heaved with shallow breaths, unable to breath properly as his tongue was set into fucking your drooling hole.
The way his tongue fucked, dribbled and guzzled your cunt had you mewling and moaning the filthiest things you didn't think possible you could get out.
Good was an understatement, heavenly was a measly word to compare what you felt like. It was maddening and he gave you no rest.
Have you ascended? No. He just wrapped your supple thighs around his head, preventing you from squirming too much, holding your hips in place as his sloshing and assailant mouth gave you no rest.
You hadn't recovered completely from the other orgasm when a new one had approached. Lurking around your senses.
His name was moaned, over and over and when your hands were done of clinging onto the sheets, you held onto his hair. Silky and smooth chocolate locks slid under your fingers.
Eyes peeked over you, and he had to pause for a moment to squeeze his cock. Aching and weeping for him to let him free and make you his. But that would come later.
That would come much later when he had more leisure time and when he'd get protection. As much as he wanted to wreck your snug cunt, he didn't want you to be whipped and shamed like another nun was when the higher ups found out she was pregnant by an outsider.
"Miguel"
His name on your lips rich and tasty, like him.
Your voice snapped him out of his trance to immediately go for your clit. Plump lips pursed and captured the engorged nub. While his hands pushed your legs up and folded them, giving a complete access to your pulsating pussy.
He slurped and souped while his tongue teased. Wet laps sent jolts through your spine each time he tasted you.
Too much. Too good and too soon, yet he didn't stop. He shook his head like a mad dog subduing it's prey and that move alone had you gushing over his mouth. He quickly gobbled it all down.
You whined, cried and blabbled, even tried to pull his head away but he delivered you a last stroke with his tongue to then lick his lips clean.
"Please"
You mumbled through blown breaths as he watched you with a lust blown glare.
What had he done out of you?
"Greed is a sin, my dear."
What had he created?
"But if you're good enough, the wait will be worth it."
His little lamb was so willing for him, aching to be tainted, corrupted even more. And his task was to banish such whims.
He'd given you a taste of what laid ahead. A promise of a much unholy reward if you followed this path with him. But your resolve had been made the first time you came.
He'd be your first and last. There wasn't any need for another to teach you what he was compliant to demonstrate.
You'd be his to fuck. His to tame and corrupt.
You'd be his.
---
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@plumplumpurin
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tetsuskei · 2 months
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synopsis: when a coworker brings their baby to work, that sets off the gears in kuroo's head to have some of your own
notes: first installment of oh, baby! repost from my old blog, with some editing done. please enjoy!
warnings: mentions of kids, unprotected sex, praise, body worship, cock warming, kuroo is horny on an astronomical level
interactions and reblogs are appreciated!
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at first, everything is innocent. tetsurō knows his coworker only means well. but tetsurō should've expected that when ‘bring your child to work day’ came at the jva, that he'd encounter at least one infant.
his coworker asks him if he wants to hold their baby after catching him stare at the small child in awe. the resemblance between coworker and child clearly evident. he's so amazed at how strong genetics could be.
then tetsurō wondered how strong his own genetics would be when it came to your children.
to recall back, the conversation of children came up briefly between the two of you. you both decided that it would be logical to wait a little while before trying to have any. kuroo was focused on building up his career and so were you. you just wanted to have your priorities straight and be responsible. nothing's wrong with that, right?
and so the conversation had been left with a pin in it and you both moved on in life. you would question when to have children later.
when holding the child in his arms, kuroo only panicks for a moment (were babies always this small?) before the child naturally curls up into his chest. their tiny hand grabs ahold of his (ridiculously) large pinky before continuing to sleep soundly. they even coo with joy.
"they seem to really like you!" his coworker laughs. "you seem to be a natural with kids!"
tetsurō only crinkles his nose in confusion but he can't help the fluttering in his chest at those words. "i'm not really doing anything but holding them."
they laugh again and nod with understanding. "sure, but you seem to be the type to make a great father, kuroo-san. you're a good person. very patient and understanding. by the way, when do you and the missus plan to have kids?"
and so having been asked the question sent him on a spiral.
by the time he's asked, several years have passed since your first conversation about kids. both you and him are financially stable. you're both lucky enough to live comfortably, and you're both happy where you are in your careers. most importantly, you're both married.
honestly, just the thought of being married to you and having a little family turns kuroo on too much. but he wants to have a family that's better than the broken one he had growing up. the best thing he can do for his kids is show them a healthy and long lasting relationship with their mother. and god does he know he can do that. he loves you so damn much his heart aches. he'll walk across fire for you, and the best part is that he knows you'll do the same for him.
the man isn't really present for the rest of the day, having to be called out during a meeting for being unfocused, and eventually sent home after he lies and says he isn't feeling well. and it's partially true, because now that he knows he wants kids, he feels an empty hole in his chest almost as if a part of him is missing.
and if being 'sick' means trying to conceal the boner in his slacks, then so be it. he doesn't want to relieve himself of his problem, no. not when the only thing on his mind is cumming inside of you raw.
tetsurō comes home to the smell of your cooking, his second favorite scent right after you. just seeing you makes him crazy. he'd been thinking about putting a baby in you all day. his hands itching to get started.
you haven't seen him yet, but tetsurō doesn't waste anymore time. he simply eyes you intently, taking time to admire you and all the soft curves of your backside. your perfect ass. you feel the warmth of him before seeing him and that's enough to startle you.
a small gasp leaves your mouth as you look up at him surprised before a honeyed smile appears on your face. a smile that's only reserved for him. "hi! you're home earlier than usual."
he returns your greeting with a grin. "hi beautiful, how was your day?" he tugs you into his grasp. lean arms encasing you in his hold as he rests his chin on top of your head and massages your hips.
hips he knows that will bare his children.
"it was good tetsu, are you hungry? i'm finishing up dinner now, and we can talk about your day." you respond, focus retuned to the stove in front of you.
he has to admit, the food smells delicious, but he's hungry for something else this evening. and unfortunately he'll have to endure an earful from you later about letting the food get cold, but he doesn't mean any harm. he just has priorities.
he hums, turning you fully towards him. his eyes lower and become stuck on your stomach. brain stuck on the thought of you being round with his child. you would look so cute pregnant. your breast would be filled with milk, too. maybe you'll let him taste—
"'ro?" you voice snaps him from his thoughts. you try to make eye contact with him and he only smiles, not registering a single thing you just said. his large hands take your face in his hold and you feel his calloused fingers run over your cheeks before he kisses your nose and then all over your face.
"tetsurō, what's gotten into you?" you giggle. you didn't mind his affection, don't get it wrong, but there was something oddly...intense about the way he's acting that you know something is up.
the ravenette seems to contemplate his thoughts, carefully reeling over the words in his mind. "i just thought that...maybe we should start...tryin', that's all." he mumbles, mouth pressing kisses all over your skin. you shiver at his touch, at the way his scent and body crowd in on your space.
ah, there it is.
your cheeks heat up, and you know exactly what he means. his words always slur slightly when he's turned on, almost like he's delirious or hooked on lust.
that paired with his cock poking your backside through his slacks.
tetsurō only continues. "today my co-worker brought in the cutest little baby i'd ever seen. looked just like 'em, too. i didn't really understand how children could make someone so happy...but i'm startin' to." he explains, tugging off your pants and underwear in one fell swoop, the cold air hitting your folds makes you jump.
you swallow nervously, "tetsu—"
"made me realize how cute our kids could—will be. they'd be the cutest in the world, i'm sure. wonder if they'd have my eyes and your smile. and hopefully they'll inherit your hair or else we'll be in trouble." he laughs before he undoes his tie, then his shirt, and tosses the garments somewhere on the floor. his belt is undone next and he's quick to unfasten his pants.
you eyes widen, and your heart fastens at the mental image of a tiny child in your arms, the spitting image of you and kuroo.
your husband pauses again, his brows knitted in thought. "do you think...that i can be a good father? for our kids?" he leans his forehead against yours and closes his eyes for a moment as he must be pondering the very question.
“of course.” you nod slowly. "i don't think so, i know so. you'll be great with our kids, tetsu." you answer, running your fingers along his jaw.
"yeah?" he breathes, pulling down his pants along with his boxers. "do you still want some?" he moves your body so that you're sitting safely on the counter away from everything else.
"w-with you? yes..." you answer, voice getting caught in your throat as he prods his fat tip at your entrance. you're already soaked enough that you know he can just...slide right in.
kuroo's breathing becomes extremely labored and his gaze darkens at your words. his single strand of restraint is being pulled taut. "then can we? can we start trying, sweets?" his hands are groping at your chest and hips, and he riles himself up the longer he touches you without relief.
you barely say 'yes' before he pushes himself into you, his jaw going slack as he is enveloped by you, cunt warm and inviting and gummy walls pleasurable beyond means.
his eyes glass over and he's completely enamored by the fact that he can be this close to you. that you trust him to hold you like he is now.
you look up at him with near helplessness as his grip on your legs doesn't loosen up. the stretch of him never is something you think you can get used to, as you feel yourself struggle to adjust to his size. the heavy and thick fullness of his cock is intense. you can feel how it throbs with need.
"do you think—" he moans as your cunt drags over his cock, sucking him in more, "that they're going to be interested in volleyball?" he lets his tip kiss your cervix and you keen, causing a groan to escape his mouth. "you think they're gonna be a middle blocker like me?"
"are you really asking me that right now?" you sigh, fingers frantically gripping the counter beneath you. you move your hips against him and hope that will shut him up.
spoiler, it doesn't. "why not—fuck, just like that baby—it's a genuine question." he buries his face in the side of your neck, and the smell of your lavender soap invades his senses before his teeth choose to bite and scrape at your skin.
"you're such a volleyball nerd, tetsu." you laugh but soon moan as both of your hips move synchronously. "when are you not thinking about it?"
he huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your temple as he presses you further into the kitchen counter. his lips linger against your skin before you felt them curve into a smile. "when i'm busy thinking 'bout your cute self, which is definitely more than volleyball."
you tried to formulate a response but only a refined moan escapes your lips again as kuroo pounds you. the sound of skin on skin filters out any remaining thoughts you had.
"you don't understand how crazy i've been goin' today." he grunts, nearly delirious in the way you cream on him so well. he can already feel himself twitch with the need to cum but as much as he wants to, he wants this moment to last a bit longer. he can't cum before you.
one of his hands lace with your own as he regards you. "been thinking about all the different ways to get you pregnant. of all the cute little maternity outfits you'll wear. of me taking care of you when you get tired and your feet ache. you're going to look so pretty carrying our baby, sweetheart."
he's rambling and you're not even sure if he's talking to you or if he's talking directly to your womb. but his words alone are enough to bring you to your first orgasm, pussy clamping down hard on his cock.
"jesus christ," he groans, struggling to keep composure, "it's like your cunt is trying to suck the life out of me."
you only whimper, legs quivering in a way you didn't know they could as you slip them tighter around his waist. with the way kuroo is bullying your insides he just might be successful at his agenda of getting you pregnant tonight.
he moves your legs over his shoulders, laying you down so your back is pressed against the cold surface of the marble counter. the new angle he decides to rut in you at causes you to cry out in surprise.
"so perfect, so pretty like this split on my cock. gonna be even prettier filled with my cum." his head bows so that he can kiss you and you eagerly meet his lips, the taste of him comforting, addicting, and familiar all at once.
he brings one hand down to your clit, moving his fingers methodically over your bundle of nerves as he coos and encourages you to cum again.
"tetsu, please," you whine, "you feel so good, wanna have your babies." the need and anticipation of getting your husbands cum is starting to make you frustrated yet needy all at the same time. yet the way he's making you feel right now makes you want this moment to last forever.
he must sense what you're feeling and hums, kissing you again sweetly. "oh you're not understandin' me princess," he breathes, hips moving in an animalistic way. "i'm gonna have you knocked up by the end of tonight. that's a promise."
"you promise?" you look up at him with doe eyes, mouth parted as little moans still escape you.
he'd give you the world if you asked. he'd pluck the sun from the sky, too. when he presses his forehead to yours he only professes his love to you like he's saying his vows for the first time. he can feel the tightening of his balls and burning pit in his abdomen as his release creeps up on him.
and when he pinches your bundle of nerves, you cum again for a second time. your eyes roll back in your head and your nails dig deeply into the muscle of his broad shoulders.
tetsurō nearly doubles over when his orgasm follows, and he spills thick, white cords of cum into you. his golden eyes look at you and you swear he cums just a little more from the eye contact you two hold. the hard throbbing and pulsing warmth he provides you makes you clench around him again, a feeling of wholeness and elation when you're finally full of him.
you're both incredibly still for a moment and you just hold each other. he sits you up with regard, and you brush back his sweaty fringe. his large hands massage your muscles before he carefully carries you to your shared bedroom.
he sits down and you realize you're both still very connected.
"t-tetsu!" you grab onto him, eyes widening as your taken by surprised at the new angle.
"fuck..." he hisses.
there's something sensitive in the way he moves inside of you, and you're not sure if that has to do with his cum inside of you or your cunt trying to hold in every drop.
kuroo always liked the notion of kissing your ring finger, because it reminded him that the two of you are joined—united. you start to speak but he does before you can even formulate the words.
"i hope you don't think we're done here." he murmurs, and by the twitch of his cock you know he's serious. him and his damned stamina. exhausted, you only shift your trembling hips to prepare for more.
it's looking to be a long night.
and so it's not surprising when several weeks pass by and when said coworker asks him again about kids, he proudly shows them the ultrasound photo hidden away in his wallet.
he only hopes that after baby number 1 you won't mind more.
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aonungsmate · 1 year
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Hello I was wondering if I could request an Ao’nung x Reader, maybe reader could be Tsu’tey’s daughter from a woman he had mated with after learning of Neytiri’s and Jake’s mating, he had a woman that he had loved but he couldn’t have because he was betrothed to Neytiri. And that love bore fruit to our reader who is very close to the Sully family especially with Kiri whom she always defends when being teased by other children. She joins Norm and Max to the metkayina clan. And she’s just this badass with an ikran that was theorized by others to be the spawn of The great leonopteryx that Jake had tamed once. And Ao’nung is flabbergasted by this pretty na’vi riding such a dangerous animal? When the battle happens, she goes ham on the RDA and SAVES NETEYAM BC GDI LEAVE MY BOY ALONE and when they return theres a whole celebration and reader finally relaxes and shes been surrounded by curious na’vis alike bc phew baddie ‼️💅🏻 and ao’nung is such a simp tryna talk to her and rizz her up and it’s just ao’nung pining over her ackk
Destined for Might and Him
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Ao’nung x Tsu’tey’s daughter!reader [Word Count: 3.1k]
🤷‍♀️uploading this after 123456789 years of draft!! Enjoy reading another rubbish fic😚💕
Warnings: mentions of death, spoilers
Jake has made countless mistakes since he joined the Omatikaya for his mission. Tsu’tey had never approved of him, until he actually saw him. He was betrothed to Sylwanin first, then came the humans, taking her away from his arms, Neytiri being the next suitable partner for him. As if there was a curse following him, a demon swooped Neytiri from him, though they were not that subtle. He has never seen Neytiri the way he looked at her older sister though.
Third time’s the charm, right?
In Tsu’tey’s case, it is. Being the next olo’eyktan meant he would be interacting with the entire clan, making sure that they felt safe even before his rule, heavily dedicating himself to making the hometree the most secure and comfortable place for their people. That’s where he met your mother, the forbidden fruit he’s always afraid to touch, only to see. He did not think it was right to look at another woman when he was promised to another man’s daughter. He was afraid that she would be too dainty for him to pursue.
Only to see, he said.
The third time he planned to mate with a woman was in the middle of the conflict. Right after he learned about Jake and Neytiri’s mating, he stormed off, not without giving Jake a good beating of course. It is when he actually had the chance to follow his heart, free of expectations. He soon learned that she too, was in love with him since he passed his iknimaya, hiding it from the rest of the clan as soon as she realized that she could not have him. Not without betraying the daughter of the olo’eyktan. So she comforted him, became friends with him instead. With his pride broken, he took everything that he thought would put his pieces back to being worthy of a warrior. Eywa, did it feel good to follow his heart and tell your mother how he really felt. So that’s why Sylwanin used to talk of mating as if it was the most beautiful thing in the world.
Somehow as he reminisced, he has really begun to see himself growing older with your mother. So, he set himself a new goal. To protect his love, and his people. Neytiri did not matter to him that much anymore, having moved on from the ghost of the past, accepting Jake Sully as his brother once again, deciding to fight against the sky demons with dreamwalkers whom Eywa have shown promise in.
What he did not expect was you. So imagine his surprise when he came home, your mother guiding his hands on her torso, telling him, Think you can handle one more, ma tsu’tey?
And so, the war came. Battles were won, people were lost. Including the mightiest warrior your mother has ever known. Your father, too young to be taken by Eywa, but alas. It was time for him to embrace the great mother’s comforting presence. He thought it was a shame it would take him years before he actually gets the chance to clutch you in his arms. He’s long entrusted you to his brother though. He made sure Jake promises him to look after you and your mother after all.
A beautiful young na’vi, born into war, just a few months before Jake Sully’s first son was born. You were then named, (y/n) te Rongloa Yenateu’ite. You were a carbon copy of your father, your mother actually exclaimed Tsu’tey’s name when she saw you having the eyes and seemingly permanent daring look your father had. You never really knew your father. Your mother would speak highly of him every night, stories and songs written by her, dedicated with her love for her long lost love. You would see her casting a longing gaze at the walls of your tent whenever she braids your hair, telling you of her and her past love’s nightly escapades when the people would head to their tents to sleep. Amazement and sheer pride written on your face when hearing of your father.
That’s when your mother would sigh audibly, completely defeated that you would always be a daddy’s daughter even without meeting him.
It has been a few weeks since your adoptive family moved to Awa’atlu to seek uturu. Your mother has long passed away, developing a sickness a few years ago. Life in the waters for them was not easy, having new responsibilities and things to work on, especially the breathing.
You were the seventh Toruk Makto, for Eywa’s sake.
Your iknimaya was going perfectly, along with Neteyam. Neteyam proved himself to be a mighty warrior, having wrestled with one of the toughest-looking ikran in the rookery. Kiri showed that she had the strongest connection to Eywa when she ‘befriended’ an ikran at a very young age, earning the title of tsakarem. You, on the other hand, basically confirmed the undeniability that you were Tsu’tey te Rongloa Ateyitan’s daughter, after an unusual occurrence in the ikran rookery. The “most dangerous iknimaya”, as Mo’at would say. As soon as Txop’alei sealed his bond with his ikran, as you stepped through the narrow path, a large ikran– No, a Toruk towered over the ikran rookery, making all of you yell in surprise followed by hisses from Neytiri behind you, and screeches from ikran fleeing away.
Your heart skipped a beat when you crossed gazes with the Toruk, stepping forward cautiously as its vibrant orange reflected on your yellow eyes, examining its slightly emerald green tinges on its wings. Soon enough, you were greeted with a threatening roar, making you gulp as soon as you realized that you were being chosen. Wrestling with an ikran is one thing, but with the great leonopteryx? It’s like a death sentence. Maybe it’s your mom or dad calling for you through Eywa, but would the warrior side of you really give up this thrilling opportunity?
Xi’di. That’s what you named your Toruk. Neytiri says it looked familiar. She thinks it’s a child of her mate’s Toruk. Mo’at says it’s your fathers gift to you from the other side when she pointed out how similar the green tinges match your father’s ikran colors.
You were more than happy to get to know your friend, Xi’di, through sneaking out and having late night flights. It wasn’t long before you were exposed to war, with Jake asking you to spot demon machines when the stars multiplied in the skies, together with his sons Neteyam and Lo’ak, brothers you would consider them as.
“Stop the useless yammering and out with it,” you spoke, jutting your chin upwards to emphasize that you were a greater warrior than he is.
“I saw your ikran,” Aonung inhaled deeply, petting the ilu swimming around the two of you, “it is bigger than the others” he pointed out, his incorrectness making you roll your eyes. You thought it was pathetic that he would attempt to hold a conversation with you after participating with yet again another standoff with your brothers. Your ears flickered slightly at the sound of celebrations around you, children laughing as they danced around.
You huffed at his curious glance, “It is a Toruk,” you smiled wickedly at his reaction, “Surprised that a girl smaller than you is a better warrior?” He scoffed at you, a mocking smile written on his face as he changed the subject back to something related to breathing.
The Metkayina chief’s son was not as who you expected him to be. He was arrogant, condescending, the complete opposite of what Neteyam was like, as the former olo’eyktan’s son.
“You wish,” he smirked, remembering how you checked him out earlier in the day as he raised the nets, his toned arms making your heart gallop. “Metkayina men are known for having mighty arms,” he boasted, too absorbed with himself that he somehow missed how you bashfully avoided eye contact for a second, a blush overtaking your cheeks as he continued on and on about what he has achieved, and his goals to be realized before and after he becomes olo’eyktan.
Regardless of the boastful and proud demeanor, Ao’nung lives up to his status though, having the toughest feats than the men his age, hunting the most, sparring the best, donning the most pleasing face in the clan and all, not that you would admit that to his face.
You remembered the faint voice of your father echoing from the tree of souls, telling that he might not be able to handle it if a pompous na’vi were to win your heart, you were Tsu’tey’s daughter for Eywa’s sake. Nobody would be worthy of you if he was actually there to guard you from presumptuous young men. So, you heed your father’s vivid wishes, promising yourself that you would be in your most sound and logical self when it comes to matters like this. Jake would always nod at you with pride when he hovers to size up your suitors, as soon as he witnesses you reject potential mates.
No wonder he and your biological father grew on each other.
You were not keen on migrating to another clan, only knowing the forest since you were born. You were angry. Furious, that the sky demons were responsible for your family's pain. You would never hold that against your adoptive father though. You loved him more than anything in the world, together with your half na'vi brothers and sisters, but you could not give up the forest. And so, you held your ground and decided to stay with the Omatikaya people.
Since the Sully's arrived in Awa'atlu, your siblings have received nothing but a flurry of insults and looks of disgust from most of the village people. Especially from the chief's son.
As the eldest sister, you felt responsible for making your brothers and sisters feel safe. Back in the forest, you would glare at every stupid boy who would dare sneak up on your sister and call her a freak, you would cast the most frightening look on your face when people would point at your youngest brother. But the most important of all, you would smile the sweetest directed at your younger siblings.
So when you heard of Kiri's situation from Norm, you immediately called upon Xi'di and braved the waters to come to where your family was. Horns and spears were let out when the Metkayina guards caught sight of a large beast coming upon their island, terrified yells from people left and right were heard, except for Lo'ak who let out a laugh of disbelief when he laid his eyes on the majestic Toruk. The colors were oh-so familiar, clad in a saddle that screamed Omatikaya, a dangling string of beads around its neck, the diversity of materials that came from none other than him.
A loud roar resonated within Awa'atlu, startling Neytiri who was busy tending to Kiri. She frowned at the thought of you, thinking that she was imagining things.
"Did you hear that Ma'itan?" Her question was answered soon enough when she noticed him running towards the crowd outside and exclaimed, "Sister, you have come!"
And there it was.
Ao'nung almost snapped his neck at how fast it turned when he caught you in his peripherals. His eyes almost bulged out of its sockets at how fast it widened when you turned your eyepiece upwards as you broke the bond with Xi'di.
"My mighty warrior! It has been too long baby brother," you slung your arms around Neteyam's frame, telling him how much he's grown in just a few months. Gladness and worry was written on your face when he brought up Kiri's situation, "You mean she had a seizure underwater ?!"
Ao'nung noticed how your waterline easily filled up with tears waiting to be shed when you approached the marui where Kiri was currently being taken care of.
What made his feelings definite was the brief eye contact with him that you shared though.
"Thank you, great mother! Thank you!"
You wailed with your family, hugging each other where Neteyam was lying down, grateful that your family has been once again blessed by Eywa. The sky people had wrought destruction in just a matter of a few weeks since your arrival in Awa'atlu after you decided to stay until you have reassured Kiri's well-being.
You were feeling beyond terrified at what had just occurred. You saw your brothers and sisters getting chased by the demon machineries, three of them tied on the huge ship that drove on the waters, spurring the darkness inside you as you fought and fought and fought until you have ensured that they were all safe.
Your brother, Neteyam.
The brother that you have known the longest, shot near where his heart lies, sealing RDA's fate when you saw your brother wheezing on a rock, who wanted nothing but to come home. You were soon enough blinded by rage, together with Neytiri who channeled her anger to retrieve her daughters who were left on the ship.
Everything was a blur that night. Guns and armies thrown left and right, ships exploding, taking hundreds of lives, both na’vi and human. You didn’t think you could have handled it well without the guidance of your father. You felt rage and hurt. Seeing your brother writhe in pain, shivering in the numbing coldness of the water raging against the rocks, you felt like you have just had your heart thrown away.
Your childhood friend Spider, getting sliced across his chest. Your mother, completely having her judgment clouded over her dying son, her daughters, desperate to be freed from the arms of a demon who somehow took pleasure in making your father's life null.
Then it was all submerged in the harsh waters.
You cried out for your companion and rode your Toruk, circling around the sinking demon ship, tears continuously flowing in frustration.
Where was everyone?
You swore you almost lost your mind, but then you remembered.
They were Omatikaya. They will survive.
So, you swallowed the impending grief. You forced yourself to think clearly through the bond, Xi’di responding with the loudest roar it could muster, and swooped down towards the direction of the rocks where you Neteyam laid.
At the sight of Neteyam, you cried.
It was that day when Ao'nung first saw you cry in Neteyam's arms, who was also sniffling at the thought of almost dying and missing out on his siblings' lives. He ruffled Tsireya's hair as she cried in relief, thankful that his sister was also safe.
The people cried. The people mourned. The people had their reunion with their families.
Sully’s stick together. And stick together, you did.
All of you were safe.
“You okay, kid?” Jake mumbled against the top of your head, embracing you and Neteyam as soon as he climbed up the shores, to which you responded by sobbing and hugging him tight. Neytiri had Neteyam against her chest, kissing his forehead, thanking the great mother all over again.
You turned your heads at the sound of water splashing once more, revealing Spider.
“Monkey boy!” Kiri exclaimed, smiling at the sight of her friend, pressing a hand against his chest. You untangled yourself from your father, fussing over Tuk and Neteyam as you see Lo’ak and Spider get squished against your father’s chest.
As you pressed your lips against Tuk’s forehead, you somehow met Ao’nung’s gaze, casting a soft smile at him as you observed him rubbing Tsireya’s shoulder in affection as she cried in his arms, completely being washed over with relief and mostly just overstimulated from the war you had just gone through.
And soon enough, it was time for a celebration of their victory against the sky people.
Fires were started, wood were piled up on one another, the children holding hands together as they sing praises to the great mother, celebrating the victory of their people, ever grateful for the safety of who remained, and prayed for the guidance of Eywa to help those who were lost, to come home to her warm embrace.
Ao’nung fixed the headdress he was donning, a symbol of his status, as he sat beside his sister, scanning his gaze amongst the sea of his people.
And then there was you.
Your eyes were piercing as you held your gaze, the brutal reality of his feelings slowly sinking in as you tucked one of your freshly braided hair, his eyes slowly trailing over the accessories you saved for occasions like this.
Did you have different sets of necklaces for ceremonies?
Were they of rare materials? Because he has never seen a woman this beautiful, he wondered.
He was so struck with your fierceness he did not notice that he was the only one left on the mats laid out on the high platform that was planted on the sand for celebrations. He placed a hand against his left knee, slowly rising from his spot to walk towards you, perhaps ask for a dance?
You were speaking to him as soon as he stopped walking, him blurting out a question he’s been meaning to ask, only to be responded with a huge hit to his ego.
“Surprised that a girl smaller than you is a better warrior?”
He never let people step on his pride.
Not even his sister whom he closetedly doted on, completely overtaken by the idea that ‘he’s a man, so he should not be seen as vulnerable’. He soon learned that that shouldn’t be the case though.
With you to pursue? He’s going to relearn everything, it seems.
You were different.
But perhaps those differences would be the factors to taking him a step closer to you.
To a future where you and him embracing under the starry skies as constellations meld together as one during the darkest of the nights, would be a normal occurrence between the two of you.
That, you did.
Months of building himself up in your eyes, and you finally learned to see him as he hoped you would.
“Good, because I see you too,” you remember him saying those exact words after you practically swept him off his feet, his pretentious demeanor once again taking over to spare him of your teasing, not that it went by unnoticed.
You knew him too well.
So when he promised to take care of you, you knew he would.
Just like when he promised to not spoil his first son to the point that he’d grow up like him, you knew he’d end up eating his words.
You knew him, after all.
You see him, in both light and darkness, you see Ao’nung.
Edit: 💀somebody pointed out a misplaced paragraph so i went to remove that one ohmygofd
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jeondesu · 18 days
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ೀ⋆ 🍂 SKZ + WAYS THEY SHOW “ I LOVE YOU ” !
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── ✧ ˚. ꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ ot8 x gn!reader ˒˓ established relationship genre: fluff warnings: not many… just some mentions of food & kissing <3
this is an old repost from my deleted blog !
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방찬/BANG CHAN. chan is the most perfect boyfriend you could ask for. he’s the type to never let you lift a finger when he’s around you. whether it be fixing a broken pipe in the house or carrying all of the groceries; it wasn’t a problem for him at all. he may get consumed in his work sometimes but that didn’t mean he spends less quality time with you. he’d call you throughout the day to check up on you and tell you how much he misses you. he’d share what he was working on and update you on small things. always smothering you once he comes home— no seriously, he does not let you breathe. he’d pepper kisses all over your face whilst having you wrapped tightly in his arms. the warmth of his loving embrace made you feel the safest and utmost protected.
리노/LEE KNOW. lovesss taking you out on fun interactive dates. movies, bowling, mini golf, fruit-picking, and candlelit dinners were a just a few to name. minho enjoyed going to small family owned restaurants, he loved desserts and would order a milkshake with two straws on each side. you’d be playing footsie under the table like little kids, teasing you while staring into each others eyes trying not to burst out laughing. he loves you just as much as he loves his cats and that’s saying a whole lot. he has a picture of you playing with soonie and dori as his lock screen, it was probably the cutest pic he’s ever taken of you. he calls you and his cats a little family >\\< he loves the way they all get along with you and it affirms even more that you really are the one for him.
창빈/CHANGBIN. constantly showers you with dozens upon dozens of compliments. could write a full-fledged novel on simply everything he adores about you. he’ll write sweet notes from time to time and leave them in random areas for you to find. your relationship with him always kept you guessing, he was so full of pleasant surprises. he noticed the littlest details about you and could practically read you like a book. he knew immediately when you were in a slump, it became his personal mission to cheer you up. is super touchy feely with you but does it with the most pure intentions. pressing feathery kisses along your hands and the insides of your palms, then trails further up your arm. he loved seeing how flustered you’d get by it, only wanting to keep doing it more.
현진/HYUNJIN. treats you as his artistic muse. his deep infatuation with you fed his inspiration with new ideas constantly. his paintings were a reflection of his mind, his most inner thoughts and emotions. almost every painting he’s done was inspired by you in some way, shape, or form. art and photography are one his favorite hobbies so naturally he’s going to always wanna snap pictures of you. whenever you two go on dates he takes pics of you without you knowing, smiling to himself and thinking how lucky he is to have you. he tells you often how much you mean to him, he was a very vocal partner. you didn’t need to ask for reassurance because hyunjin would just give it to you anyway. it was like he could read your mind, he understood you on a intuitive and spiritual level.
한/HAN. he is completely and authentically himself when he’s with you. your relationship is the most easy going thing in his life, he couldn’t imagine life without you. he loves that your humor is the same and you’re both always goofing off. he feels most accomplished if he can make you laugh until your stomachs start hurting. almost everything was a joke to him but the love he had for you was definitely not. he share’s everything with you, his clothes, favorite snacks, deepest secrets, nothing off limits for him. never stops talking about you with the other members, every little thing reminds of him you so he has to announce it. he could be doing something serious and then one of your inside jokes would randomly pop in his head, smiling like an idiot to himself. he was so proud to have you as his lover and best friend.
필릭스/FELIX. the most sweet, nurturing, individual in the universe. put a million heart emojis next to your contact name and never fails each time to get a stomach full of butterflies every time he’s with you. hears a song that reminds him of you and instantly sends it; will make monthly playlists for you too. he gets lost in your eyes all the time, can’t help but feel his heart beat out his chest by your ethereal beauty. you could be having an in-depth conversation with him and he’d zone out from just looking at you. he can’t stand being away from you when he’s gone and gets real sad and lonely if he can’t hold you >.< will send you LENGTHY messages of what he loves most about you and how much he wants to be with you. if he can’t physically be there, he’ll do all he can to still feel like he’s right beside you.
승민/SEUNGMIN. thoughtful gestures were his love language. he would notice your shoe is untied as you’re both walking and stop everything he’s doing to fix it for you. will do anything you ask him to at the drop of a hat. does chores and tasks around the house when you aren’t feeling up to it, he never complains about it either which you love. lots and lots of hugs and kisses !! he especially loves hugging you from behind and resting his head within the crevice of your shoulder. he’d kiss your knuckle before dancing with you in the kitchen and acting like an old married couple. the two of you would be slow dancing and lock eyes, your lips would collide as you both sway to the melody of the song. it was soft moments like these that proved seungmin owned all of your love.
아이엔/JEONGIN. very much into showing PDA and lots of it. doesn’t really care about what the other members think when he touches or kisses you in front of them. likes to give you unexpected forehead and neck kisses, intertwining his fingers with yours while doing so. he bought you a necklace with his initial on it as a gift and you never took it off since the day he gave it to you. whenever he’s gone for long periods of times that necklace would get you through it all. he’d also buy matching couples pajamas and plan a night in where you do face masks and watch movies (^o^). late night cuddling was his forte; you’d be all tangled up in bed together and he’d leave short series of pecks to your cheek until you lull asleep in his arms.
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targaryenluvs · 4 months
Note
Idk if you are taking requests currently, but if you are…
Could you write a similar fic to our little dove, where Coriolanus doesn’t kill Lucy. I would’ve loved to see more of them arguing over who gets to spend time with the reader, and all three of them spending time together.
Or maybe a different ending where Lucy takes reader to pick up katniss with her. And whilst Coriolanus is in the cabin lucy convinces reader to run away with her… but Coriolanus finds both of them and takes them to the Capitol with him.
OUR LITTLE DOVE,, ALT ENDING
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pairings: dark!lucy gray x fem!reader, dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader, coriolanus snow x lucy gray
summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you. but it seems lucy gray is willing to share you with a certain peacekeeper, even if you aren’t.
a/n: here’s for all who wanted a different ending! the full fic is here ( our little dove )this is just a detour for everyone who wasn’t happy with the ending! DONT READ IF YOU HAVENT READ THE FULL FIC!!!
the trek back to town had you dying. it usually didn’t take so long but with coriolanus’s arm practically glued to you, the sun beating down on your trio and your dress sticking to you? fainting seemed very fun right now.
the entire routine was rushed, food stashed, no goodbyes to your family nor friends, just lucy and coriolanus wanting you on the train asap. they’d sprung their plan of going back to the captiol on you quite abruptly once you reached town but at this point you had no hope in your body of escaping them. so you obliged and followed like a lost puppy.
being in the capitol was worse.
you were completely and utterly alone. coriolanus was busy running the country, lucy was always working and you always seemed to be stuck on your windowsill. staring out onto the streets as the world passed you by. stuck in a prison of marble and luxury.
at first you had to endure lucy and coriolanus’s never ending arguing, always over you. when you still had an inkling of freedom. “are you kidding me? you chose what she wore yesterday lucy. will you just back the fuck off?” lucy’s jaw was dropped open, “excuse me? she was my-” coriolanus’s head tilted back as he dragged his hands over his face, “oh my god how many times are you going to use that? who the hell got her here huh? who provides for all of us? sure as hell not you. now don’t make this any harder. she’s wearing the red dress.” you sat there the whole time, just waiting for someone to notice you.
it always led back to you. but apparently kidnapping you and uprooting your life wasn’t enough since after time the duo fed off of eachother, delusions enlarging. seemingly everyone was out to get you, be with you, but you were theirs. coriolanus wasn’t president long enough yet to go around killing people without raising suspicion and alert towards him and as much as people did respect him, he couldn’t exactly go around killing everyone who looked at you and lucy even if he wished to. so he settled for the next best thing. keeping you away from them, out of reach.
and here you ended up, alone.
you had everything you’d ever dreamed of yet it all meant nothing. you were a shell of your old self and the two of them knew it. but all they cared was that you were with them. whisperings of the president having two lovers were imminent, lucy gray the victor, and the other. the unknown. and you weren’t sure if they’d ever know you. if anyone knew who you were, what you looked like let alone your name. even the staff of your prison did what was necessary, nothing more nor less. food, water, changed bedsheets and drawn baths was all the interaction you had with people that weren’t corio nor lucy.
you wanted to die, anything was better than living the same day over and over. the little flickers of hope came in the form of broken promises whispered during the dark nights, barely heard over the heaving breaths originating from yourself and the other two. promises of people, of the sun and temporary escape from here. but you’d learnt not to believe them.
“sweetheart, it’s not good for you to sit there all day. come, eat.” coriolanus asked demanded from the doorway of your library. the book at your feet long forgotten. coriolanus led you to the dining room where lucy was already eating. “there you are baby. somethin’ wrong?” lucy’s eyebrows were creasing as she took you in, empty eyes, emotionless face, slumped shoulders. you were nothing like the girl from twelve.
y/n l/n. sweetheart to almost everyone. a smile on her face as she went about her day. opening up to people and allowing others to lean on her. making sure her friends were okay when she noticed the slightest shift in feelings. always the lover. the carer.
but the girl who stood in front of her was so different and it broke her heart.
but she knew if she wanted to repair you she’d have to let you go. and as the three of you cuddled together in bed, your soft breaths lulling coriolanus and herself to sleep, she knew it was worth it, as long as you were here.
how selfish! she thought, but at the end of the day.
you’re our little dove.
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auteurdefeu · 2 months
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We all know Alastor is great at seeing what people want most, what they fear, how their emotions can so easily be played. It’s how he got Charlie to make the deal when she knew she shouldn’t. He’s so good at knowing how to make people vulnerable and get under their skin.
There’s just so much ammo for Lucifer when he shows up. An absentee father, an even worse king, his entire family cast him from his home to burn forever and then his wife left him too, the one who was known for being capable. The fact Charlie is naive enough to see Alastor as a father figure as well just perfectly plays into it, and from the start, it seems so easy to get to Lucifer of all people. Someone who’s supposed to be so great, so easy to crumble with his ego and emotions.
Those initial interactions were a shock to Lucifer’s system. How dare a sinner speak to him with such open disrespect? What choice did he have but to fight fire with fire? (read: song battle)
But then the surprise of it all starts wearing off. He knows to expect it. He saw how broken Alastor was after fighting Adam, a reminder of just how fragile sinners’ souls are compared to that of a fallen seraphim. At the same time, Charlie had happily accepted Lucifer back into her life as her father. It’s not going to erase the years spent apart and his struggles with depression, but it’s a start. And he knows Alastor’s no real threat to him.
So at some point, Alastor’s jabs start being met with casualty, almost dismissively. It shifts from a playful annoyance like calling him short to something… well, cutting deeper. He doubles down upon how Lucifer abandoned his daughter, all so that he could hide with his toys, making himself a fool in his own nation.
Lucifer’s just making coffee. Saying that’s probably true, but Charlie is a kind soul who let him back into her life.
Not the reaction Alastor wanted again. So he pressed further, even blaming this dismissive attitude he had now as being why Lilith left. How could she have ever loved a man too scared to engage. She was always at the forefront of the show while he was too busy being buried in shame to be an even decent partner.
“One of many reasons, I’d guess”
It really irritates Alastor how much this isn’t getting to him. Lucifer had come to the hotel a terribly insecure man, so easy to mess with. And now, nothing?
Over the course of a week or so he keeps trying. And Lucifer just isn’t reacting. He cannot for the life of him figure out why. He knows everything he mentions is still an upset, it’s obvious in the way he talks with other people or the things he avoids, but it’s like he has some sort of verbal armor to Alastor’s attempts at drawing out a reaction from him.
The sad truth just ends up being that, whatever Alastor says, Lucifer’s said worse about himself. He’s had years to find every little detail about himself that could’ve been the catalyst for Lilith leaving, every little trait she likely despised for centuries, tearing apart the blurring memories of her face to see which expressions were genuine. Either everything about him, every step he’s made wrong, everything he’s lost or been forced to give up, he has a list of 20 things minimum as to why it’s all his fault. Alastor’s brutality is a toddlers insult compared to the things he thinks about himself.
The devil is madly depressed and just vibing his way through life ❤️
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satoruhour · 7 months
Note
omg I’d love to hear more about baby fever + gojo 🥹 just watching him match a babies babbles like he can actually understand them is killing me!!
a/n: omg stop anon this is so CUTE?? and ik i posted like three things today but posts will be slower this week since i still have work to do technically even if i have a school break ! / one sex joke lol
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gojo always had a knack for caregiving — whether it was defending yuta against the higher-ups and advocating for yuji’s life (even if it had to be delayed) and making sure that one kid had gotten home safely after getting trapped in an abandoned home. but you realised you’ve never really seen your boyfriend around babies. it wasn’t a good idea in the first place, to mix babies and sorcerers — part of why nanami had waited so long before starting a family with his partner, or how utahime turned in her resignation for good after getting pregnant.
but now that you’re past terrible things in the world like sukuna and kenjaku and you both have properly buried your best friend’s body, you’re looking ahead to better things. you’re not too keen on kids, but you do sometimes spiral into what your kid with satoru would look like, probably taking the bulk of his features while some of yours are fighting to take first place. that sentiment is changed more and more when you see how gojo interacts with kids.
it’s when nanami first invites everyone to their (long overdue) baby shower, only wanting to introduce his partner and kid only a year after they’ve been safe. nanami is the happiest he’s ever been but so is gojo, dancing so foolishly in front of the kid to get her to like him that all she does is scrunch her face and hide back in her mother’s neck (“yeah, that’s nanami’s kid alright.”). soon, she’s let go to interact with the students, playing around with megumi’s dogs, running around the house from yuji and inumaki, doing silly battle poses with the girls. her laughter is like beauty to all the grown-ups in the room, something meant to be protected and cherished.
gojo tries to win her back, sitting on the floor so his height wouldn’t be too imposing and she almost runs into him. his infinity stops her and her head cocks to the side in confusion — she continues to run into gojo’s shield again and again, giggles at being constantly pushed back with a silly sound gojo makes with his mouth; it convinces her enough that she’s running into a bubble of some jelly. 
it’s some time later where you’re mingling with nanami’s partner, talking to shoko and utahime while your boyfriend chats with nanami (weirdly normal, you note) about everything. but you’re broken out of conversation when you hear gojo quietly squeal to his junior who only sighs. it’s all a facade; you know he’s actually glad his daughter succumbs to gojo’s charms soon enough, letting him carry the small toddler who’s already oh so tired from the day. she melts into satoru’s arms, mumbling something incoherent that he replies just as incoherently and bounces.
satoru strokes her hair, speaking in a hushed tone now, something that rarely happens in your home and it convinces nanami just a little to make him her godfather. he’s still considering it.
the next time it happens is when he meets utahime’s baby boy for the first time, coming over to provide some gifts and to just see your old friends. it’s a little hilarious how the first two people to have children are the people who are not particularly fond of gojo but both nanami and utahime are surprisingly tame when it comes to the strongest handling their kid. she’s giving him her baby carefully with a clear threat behind her eyes but he knows not to fuck anything up. the baby is clueless enough to not know who he was even being handed to, babbling mindlessly while drool leaves his mouth.
“babba boo-boo,” it’s gibberish, but satoru matches it perfectly, making stupid sounds back at the baby that you can’t help but grin. “wahbaba boo!” gojo continues to coo and mumble insults with a pointed finger to hime, “your mom is too uptight, can you tell her to calm down a little?” which gets a little hey! from the retired sorcerer and the baby attempts to copy his pointing. “mambama!” utahime’s and her partner’s soft gasp is all you need to know that they haven’t heard their baby call any of them, yet.
the baby continues his babbles and blows a raspberry, face lighting up at the bubbles he manages to make with saliva and gojo just has to laugh at how easily entertained children are. you’re stood there, heart melting with the gentleness in which he treats kids, because once the little one is handed back to utahime and you’re saying your goodbyes, you can’t even look at your lover without feeling lightheaded.
“you’re good with kids, y’know.” you’re saying as you remove your coat while satoru toes off his shoes in your home, your shared space. it feels unreal.
gojo pfts, “of course, baby!” he does a cute pose with thumb pointing toward him, “i’m just that good at everything.”
you laugh, “’course you are…” pulling him down, you have to kiss him or else you’d be overflowing with all the love you have for him and it’ll spill everywhere. gojo eases you into the kiss, humming and sighing in contentment.
“i’m just wondering…” you mumble, a little nervous. you’ve never thought of kids that much even but you think it might be due time even if you didn’t have a ring on your finger. “if you ever thought of having a kid with me?”
satoru’s face softens and you can hear his smile, “of course i do, princess. every time.” his voice is soft when he says it and the way it flips your heart makes you dizzy. “but only when you’re ready. and only when i’ve put a big fat rock on your fourth, although if you’re interested in a shotgun…”
you have to shoot him the finger before you’re nodding to yourself just to remind that everything depends on you. even if it takes 5, 10 years, or even if you didn’t want any children at all, gojo is enamoured with you too much to let it be a dealbreaker.
“i want it… soon.” gojo laughs softly at that, taking you into his arms right at your doorstep and kisses you deeply once again. you brace yourself against his toned chest, clutching at his coat with tippy toes. in classic gojo satoru fashion, he has to pull away to make a dirty joke.
“i’m surprised that you aren’t knocked up already with how much i c—”
“gojo satoru. if you finish that sentence—!”
“—um in you…”
you pull a face, resorting to smacking him on the arm and he surrenders with loud laughter and an apology filled with pecks and kisses. standing at the doorway, you’d never think it would happen so soon.
two months later, satoru is getting down on one knee and asking you to marry him.
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Text
The Damned Part 2
Toji Zenin x fem! reader
Synopsis: forced to get in with the Zenin clan by your parents as a servant, Toji Zenin seemed to damn you more than himself….
mentions of blood, child abuse, Toji being Toji.
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Training for Toji was as gruelling as ever, blood splattered the stone-cold courtyard, the cursed spirits and the sparring he was engaging in combat messed up his straying mind as much as his stupidly strong body. He was angry and frustrated, but when wasn't he? He couldn't help but wonder if it was the interaction from earlier, this weird push and pull he had with his servant, that made him more in his head than usual.
But by the end of it, he pulled through without dying or losing too much blood, he was strong like that. His opponents withdrew. Yet by God's will, his family only saw weakness and inferiority. All he was met with was with disgust. At this point, he felt-numb. The same old thing. Training. Abuse. Blood. Humiliation. So much blood. It was the only thing he knew. Yet despite that, there was that small thing that was piercing his usual thought pattern.
After training was finished, Toji's body felt brittle and exhausted, no bones were broken today though. He was covered in blood, his own or someone else's, he's not sure, nor does he care. He trudged up to his room, desperate to clean himself up and just leave another shitty day behind before it came for him again. When he opened his door, he was greeted with the sight of you folding his laundry, and cleaning his room. He saw your eyes widen and your voice gets lost in your throat as you both stared at each other for a moment.
“Are you okay?” You whisper reluctantly. He looked like hell like he was dragged into the pits of it. Blood adorned him in pearls. It seemed destitute to ask at this point, but every day after training.. you always do. That felt slightly off track though.
His penetrating stare met yours, the first thing he noticed was your eyes, the way they widened with that concern that it always does. What he didn't understand was why his eyes flitted to your lips momentarily, they were slightly agape...only just. They were full. And...shaped. Toji quickly cleared his throat and snapped out of his head, reverting cold as per. “I'm fine.” He said curtly, with a grunt.
“Do you need the nurse?” You ask, it was routine at this point.
“No.” He grunted simply.
You observed him, he's never come back like this before, not for a long time and he was playing it off like he was fine.
“Let me run you a shower.” You offer politely. You knew he wanted you to be rude to him, to not give a single damn about him but you really couldn't when he was this beat up. He glares at you, those blazing green eyes ready to lash out as blood streams down his forehead, but before he can, you speak. “I swear to God if you tell me to be a heartless monster to you right now when you're covered in blood I'll kick you in the face.” Your words came out unexpectedly from your mouth. But with him, you always had to hammer in your point in a way he could understand: violence. The thought soured you slightly.
Now this...for Toji, was a surprise.
“Kick me in the face?” He scoffed. He felt the need to test you, to let you know what kind of a man he was.“Do it. You'll be dead as soon as you graze me.”
You knew his threat was all too genuine, he was perfectly capable of being a murder machine to someone like you, he wouldn't even think twice about it. Instead of dwelling on that, you grab him by the arm and drag him to his en suite bathroom. “ I know better than to kick a man while he's down.” You grumble, brows pinching together... you've never been so direct with him before, never this challenging. He should have killed you just for grabbing him like that, but Toji held back, letting you do this. That touch of yours, gentle yet firm. Interesting.
Toji watches your fingers start the shower, you even hand him a clean towel, freshly laundered. He watches your gaze soften as you see the extent of his bruises and cuts. You muster out a soft smile and close the bathroom door. Toji's face remained the same as he grunted, carefully peeling off his clothes and stepped into the shower. The water soothed his exhausted body from the blood caked to his skin, he stood there, thinking.
Thinking, nothing and everything.
He wondered for a moment if he was that much of a monster in his past life to deserve this one.
He wondered if his mother ever decided to speak to him again.. would he run into her arms and beg to be loved by her?
He wondered if his father would beat him as he did a boy if he ever saw him like this now.
He wondered if you pitied him, as his servant, you saw it all...
He wondered if your tongue could be sharp when provoked.
He wondered if those gentle lips...could…
Toji snapped out of it after a few moments, he took a deep breath and frowned. He turned the shower off and stepped out of it, drying himself with the towel too. He noticed a fresh pair of clothes on the sink and put them on, his hair still slightly damp even after fluffing it with a towel.
As he exited the bathroom, you turned around from your folding and blinked up at him, acutely dazed. That black compression shirt was a staple for a reason, it was simple and comfortable...and he seemed good with it.
“I've almost finished your laundry. I'll be done soon.”You tell him.
Your voice brought this unwanted feeling to his gut, he didn't want to think about it. Instead, he gave you the appropriate response, he just nodded and spoke with a harsh voice. 'Don't take too long then.' Toji sat on his bed, clearly exhausted, lifting his shirt to examine the cuts and bruises...maybe he did need stitches. You glance at his bare torso and swallow thickly. “How was training...?” You mutter, trying to make polite conversation.
Toji watched you work from the corner of his eye, seeing your fingers fold up clothes perfectly, without creases with such ease. Those band-aids on your fingers though still got him wondering why the hell you were lying to him. You were pretty perfect at doing these tasks...yet you were clumsy and burned yourself? Toji didn't like that he was reading so much into it, he didn't care.
“Training was usual. The only thing that keeps me sane is the fact that I'll be away from you.” He muttered huskily with an indignant frown.
You grimaced at him, your expression becoming defeated but you covered it up expertly. Your brows furrow as you keep a stiff upper lip.
“Sorry for prying then.” You say firmly as you take the basket and head out of his room.
Your soft eyes met with his one last time when you closed the door. The door being closed meant that he could let himself go, so he could think. God, his brain was so loud yet his body was so numb, it was torture...he desperately needed to alleviate the pain. Yet he didn't want to, would he rather feel it all… Or slowly become nothing...an empty hollow of a person. He would choose mind-piercing pain, for now, he can't lose his soul just yet.
-
It was almost dinner time.
You were preparing Toji's food as the wind howled outside, the beautiful moonlight peering through the panes. It was beautiful and for a moment, you felt as if you weren't in the Zenin Compound. You bent over the kitchen island, snacking on a few berries you picked from the garden as you were ticking off the tasks you had done today. You lick the strawberry juice off of your fingers as you were absolved in your list. Toji raised his brow as he watched you from the doorframe, seeing your mouth tinted with the red of the berries, looking the most carefree he had ever seen you. You glance up for a split second and jolt up, a little embarrassed from how casual you were in his presence. Toji found this slightly amusing but he kept a straight face.
You glance over at the basket of freshly picked fruit from the Zenin garden. “I picked these from the garden, they looked delicious, I couldn't help myself.” You chuckle nervously, finding your mouth to be explaining yourself for no obvious reason. He sits on the kitchen island stool in front of you as you plate his food and give it to him.
Toji didn't speak. And it made you even more worried than usual.
‘Maybe you should go see the nurse. Your bruises and cuts seem quite bad.’ You say under your breath, honestly hoping he wouldn't hear you as you start cleaning up the kitchen. You popped a blueberry in your mouth as you regarded him with those intent yet soft eyes. He glanced at your lips as you took in the small fruit. He needed a moment to stop thinking about that and focus on your comment.
“I said I'm fine. So I'm fine.” He grunted lowly, irritation smothering his features.
You pause for a second to think about how to approach this, and you sigh. “Okay. I'll trust you.” The words were soft as they left your mouth, yet your face was still pretty nervous. Toji's presence was just...overwhelming. You finish washing the plates and decide to treat yourself to a glass of wine, you knew you shouldn't really be doing that, but you were so nervous in front of him that you needed a drink to calm yourself down.
Toji watched you and didn't say anything, even though he should. The wine tinted your lips as you pull away from the rim of the glass. It soaked in on those...full lips. He looked away when he noticed himself staring, but his thoughts didn't disappear. You were surprised when he didn't scold you for drinking but he glared at you, not in his usual intimidating way, but as if he was inspecting your face.
“Are you okay? Do I have something on my face?” You rubbed your fingers over your lips, wondering if you had wine dribbling all over you that you were too nervous to notice.
“No..No, you don't have anything on your face.” He responded lowly, not even sparing you another look.
“Oh, okay.” You wipe your lips again anyway. The silence between you both was getting thicker and all you wanted was an out on the situation. “Well, I'm going to bed. Goodnight.” You say politely as you begin making your way to head out.
When you spoke, it got him out of his thoughts. However, he did feel a sense of disappointment when you said you'd go to bed now. He wanted you to stay, for some reason he didn’t care to identify.
"No. Stay. Sit." He ordered bluntly, but his face softened when his head motioned towards the stool next to him.
You gulp slightly, you hesitantly listen to his orders as you sit yourself politely beside him on the stool. “Oh. Okay. Why?” You ask curiously.
“Because I don’t want to be alone right now.” Toji’s face was stoic as those out of character words fell from his lips, as if he was dying to say them. Toji couldn’t really grasp that he said that himself.
“Oh…” You let out softly. This was the first time he was being this way with you, letting you know how he actually felt…Wow. “If that’s what you want…”
The fact that you didn't run away or ignore him felt…different.... And now, with you staying, you were within arm's reach from him. He immediately leaned forward to lean on his arm. He noticed you were nervous and he sighed out. "Just sit and relax, yeah?"
Your eyes widened, unable to contain their shock at his…odd gentleness. Why was he acting this way? Did he just want you to sit still and be quiet? What was it he wanted from you?
What was worse was that your mouth ran faster than your brain.
“I know you always say you can do everything yourself but…why do I get the feeling that that is not true?” You ask him wearily, staring into his forest green eyes. Your demeanour was oddly serious as you asked him such a thing.
Your tone made him raise a brow, you seemed like you were genuinely worried about him. He hated that feeling. Your eyes locked onto his and all he could do now was stare at you. You looked so…concerned with that worried look on your face, and yet he couldn't bring himself to even speak a single word. After a long moment of silence, he spoke up. His tone was stern. “What are you talking about?"
“You know what I’m talking about. You’re here wounded and in pain, yet you convince me and yourself you don’t need to see the nurse, why do you do that?” You ask softly, glancing at him. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to question him like this but your curiosity outwon you.
His brows lowered at you, his tone taking on an annoyed and angry tone. How dare you worry about him. How dare you think he couldn't handle being bloodied and bruised. After the hell, he’s been through, it was all he could handle at this point. “I said I don't need to see the nurse. I don't. Do you think I'm some weak ass who can't handle any pain and suffering?"
You feel his anger radiating off of him. “No. Not at all.” Your eyes widen, taken aback. “I-I know you can…it’s just…” You trail off. But in that moment, you slowly stand up from your stool and reluctantly place your fingers under his chin, looking down at him. You trace the bruise on his temple and eyebrow softly. “You’re always covered in blood…why are you always covered in blood?” Yoy whisper, you know exactly why, it was a rhetorical question but it hit him hard.
The feeling of your fingers on his face made his breath catch in his throat, he stilled into your touch and tensed up. A large majority of him wanted to slap your hand away and break it and just lash out at you for doing such a thing….Yet…you looked so beautiful and so worried...And of course, that was a thought he was trying to stay away from. But the way you whispered your words…felt like daggers through him, like he was being torn apart. “I'm a Zenin. Bloody and bruised is... Not unusual for me...”
“I’m sorry you have to go through this.” You say softly, eyes glazed over in concern and pull your hand away from him and walk away. You walk up the stairs and into yourservant quarters, ready to sleep this weird day away.
Your touch sent so many emotions through him and now that you were walking away, it felt like a wave of disappointment and anger and hatred ran through him. He tried to shake it off and keep a stoic demeanor on, but... He suddenly wasn't feeling so stoic. Your concern was just so genuine.
He fucking hated it.
-
taglist (mwah!): @wo-ming-bai @xduskydollx
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ferrstappen · 11 months
Text
Max the wag (again)| Max Verstappen blurb
love note: I’ve loved the response to gossipy Max and (y/n) that I came up with this little piece 💘
YOU CAN FIND THE REST OF MAX THE WAG SERIES HERE
summary: a new break up hits the paddock and Max and you are the best investigators.
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Canada GP, 2023
Max didn’t mean to overhear whatever was going on inside the four walls of Ferrari’s place on the track.
But if the information came his way, who was he to deny it?
He was mildly bored in between interviews and before FP1, not caring about interacting with people because you weren’t there, too many things to take care of, studying and being an intern didn’t allow you to be there with him. Still, he sent you silly pictures of him walking by himself (metaphorically since fans and workers were all over), he smiled at the WhatsApp sticker you sent him along with a picture of you, papers scattered all over your desk, iPad showing the F1 app.
While walking by Ferrari, he really really couldn’t help walking a bit slower as three engineers were enjoying a cigarette while loudly speaking to each other, motor and tool noises were ambient noise.
I heard she’d forgiven him once, after São Paulo last year.
What happened there? I keep hearing about it but i left to Abu Dhabi right after the podium.
Carlos and Norris contacted some girls and left with them or something along the way, kept it under wraps though but now? I think it was too much for her.
Shame, she was always polite and nice to everybody. She even knew our names!
And Carlos’ sister is getting married soon, he ducked it big time. I heard someone in the garage she decided to not go and his family is pissed.
It caught Max’s attention… he instantly recalled the conversation with you, trying to figure out if Carlos and Isa were still together. Clearly, they weren’t and the entire paddock was aware of it.
Maybe Christian could have more information about it.
But the first thing he did was to text you, announcing he had more information.
Info about what? Was your response, making Max’s eyes roll…
Sainz and girlfriend!
Max didn’t hear it, but you gasped at the simple text message. Max was very selective with the information he actually took seriously, and for him to tell you he heard something meant it was probably real.
Shut up! What did you hear? Who told you?!?!?
Max smiled, a smug grin knowing you were dying for the information, but he’d keep it for later, when he was laying on the hotel bed, fresh out of the shower, white t-shirt and shorts and ready to fall sleep. That’s when he was sharing the information.
He was surprised when you called him out of the blue and he chuckled, his gorgeous blue eyes getting smaller, little wrinkles forming, dimples showing.
“Hello schat, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Max teased, instantly taking in your neat hair, neutral make up and deep red lipstick… oh, what would he give to bite your lower lip and have his face and chest covered in faint red lipstick.
”don’t be coy! What did you hear? I heard the snippet of an interview and she sounded so broken it was so sad, but what did you hear?!” You rambled, making Max’s smile even bigger.
“I told you I’m sharing my discovery later, i’ll have to be in the car in thirty minutes or so,”
“I hate you so much, you can’t leave me hanging! I don’t want to ask her directly!” You complained like a toddler, noticing Max was just staring at you through the screen.
“I love you, I have to go,” Max said after he noticed part of the Red Bull PR team approach him. He was waiting for you to tell him you love him too, but your words weren’t exactly what he was expecting.
“Max babe, try to get info on Shakira and Hamilton!”
Honestly, you and Max were a match made in heaven.
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yuzurins · 10 months
Text
# circles
in which: sae’s tired of running around in circles with an undefined relationship, so he decides to take his chance when he can to make you his.
warnings: kind of unorganized, mentions of alcohol, intoxicated reader, insecure reader, mutual pining, just a bunch of comfort and fluff, honestly strayed from the original prompt t-t
reblogs and interactions are appreciated!
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itoshi sae is a busy man.
being the most sought for japanese football player and as well as a regular on the real matrid team meant he was always doing something football related. practices, games, events, you name it.
his schedule is packed with plans set months before they happen. companies and teams always request to see him sooner, but he makes no exceptions for anyone, not even his own family.
well, that goes for anyone but you.
itoshi sae has found himself breaking his own ideals without any hesitation. he‘s standing in front of your apartment, 5 hours, 27 minutes and 54 seconds before his flight back to spain, after an obviously drunk text you sent him 10 minutes ago.
1:22AM
y/n: saweewea
y/n: did u knwo a broken heart hurts REAL bad😍
sae: what
y/n: i think i’m goign to crush my cat with my body weight
y/n: u fg hhh hj jgjjgjhhhrkdoforjfof
sae: where are you rn
y/n: ogm r ru gonna come visit me 😎😜🥺
y/n: i’m soooerirjf lonely
sae: .
sae: be there in 5
sae doesn’t know whether to ring the doorbell or call you to let you know he’s here. heck, he’s not even sure whether you’re at home or not, but he does know that it’s not often you go out to drink. as he’s hesitating, you hastily open the door, almost like you could sense him there.
“sae!” you slur, just barely avoiding stumbling over yourself as you straighten up. “i didn’t expect you to actually come visit me.”
“neither did i.” he scoffs as he takes in your current state: graphic anime tee (which he gave you last christmas), sweatpants, messy tangled bun and your face is entirely red. you reek of soju and he knows better than anyone you’re a lightweight, so sae mentally prepares once more for what he’s about to get himself into.
the response from the magenta haired in front of you causes a pout to form on your face. he’s not quite sure if it’s just his imagination or not, but it looks like you’re more down, more tired than usual.
“are you okay?” he asks, and this prompts you to stretch your arms out, almost habitually, and wrap them around the taller male’s torso.
sae flinches ever so slightly at your touch. he gently pushes you back into the apartment as he closes the door, all while having one arm wrapped around your waist.
it’s obvious you’re not in the right mind space, but as everyone says, drunk words are sober thoughts, though sae doesn’t know whether that’s good or bad. you getting blackout drunk as a result of academic stress has become a monthly occurrence now, and it always ends up with sae coming over to babysit you. he’s more than aware of the fact that you’re taking his presence for granted, yet despite that, he’s still always there for you.
you’re obviously more than just friends, so why does sae feel like the line separating friendship and relationship just keeps getting thicker?
you latch onto him like a koala as he shuffles over to your couch. he doesn’t force anything out of you, doesn’t show any impatience, and just waits for you to talk.
the two of you quietly bask in the comfort of each other’s arms for a long time. just as sae begins to loosen his hold on you believing you’ve drifted off, you cling onto him even tighter, refusing to let go of his warmth.
“don’t go.” you mumble into his hoodie, voice quivering, and sae wonders if it really is school stress that’s made you this way.
humming in response, he pats your back lightly as if he’s caring for a baby, trailing his hand up to your head to play with your hair.
sae doesn’t want to pry, but there’s something he really needs to confirm before it eats his thoughts up even more.
“i won’t leave,” he reassures. “did anything happen?”
a sound comes out of your mouth in response, barely louder than a whisper. sae turns his head to look at you and you take it as a request for you to repeat your words. you try again, and this time, you’re still mumbling, but it’s enough for him to make out what you want to convey.
“i’m sorry.” and a tear falls from your eyes, “i’m sorry, sae.”
now sae’s been in this position for countless times, always coming to be your personal therapist at unearthly hours in the night, but this is the first time he’s ever seen you act so vulnerable. he can feel your body trembling against him and his heart aches just seeing you so dejected.
but he’s not dense enough to not realize what you’re apologizing for, because it’s the same reason as to why he decided to ask in the first place. he gently removes his arms off your waist, turns you to face him and moves his hand up to wipe the tears streaming down your cheek.
this tender, silent exchange between the two of you is more than any amount of words that express. sae’s usually indifferent eyes are laced with affection, and you just can’t help but feel so guilty because of that.
“i know you’re really busy,” you avert your eyes, biting on your bottom lip to stop yourself from breaking again. “you’re always doing so much for me, and i feel so terrible because i don’t deserve any of it.”
sae doesn’t say anything, letting you finish your thoughts before stating his.
“i was watching one of your games earlier, and i was reminded of the fact that your world and mine are so far apart.” you’re still looking away, but a soft nudge from sae’s hand pushes you back to look at him. “i just—i feel like i’m not enough for you, sae.”
through watered eyes, you can catch the expression of the male in front of you waver, and with years of knowing him, you’ve mastered the ability to be able to tell what emotions are going off in his mind.
“i know it sounds silly—“
“it’s not silly.” he interrupts, despite being patient all this time, but struggles to find the right words to continue. “is this what you’ve been feeling since back then?”
you shake your head, and lean forward to rest it on his shoulder. “the internet is scary.”
sae lets out a soft chuckle at your unintentional joke, and moves his head to rest it on the side of yours. “but what only matters is that i’m here in front of you right now, yeah?”
“it’s true that i’m busy, but i’ll always be your anchor of support whenever you need it, seriously.” his fingers find their way to intertwine with yours, and your heart flutters at how romantic he’s being. “so don’t cry sweetheart, because you’re breaking my heart as well.”
the use of the pet name makes you giggle, it being so out of character for sae, yet that’s how you know he really means it, from the bottom of his heart. hearing the sound of your laughter allows sae to relax his shoulder from all the tension he unknowingly had been feeling, and he cups your cheek with his palm, bringing you face-to-face with the taller male.
his eyes study your features, taking in your beauty, before going back to make eye contact with you. though you notice how they flicker down to your lips and hover there for a split second longer than anything else, your heart thumping loudly at the realization of what he’s asking of you.
you flash him a small smile in response as approval, and sae wastes no time closing the distance between you two. his touch is soft, almost like he’s afraid of breaking you, and easily washes away all the worries clouding your mind.
sae droops his arms over your shoulders and rests his forehead against yours. “you were always and will be more than enough for me, y/n.”
his sweet words bring a red flush to your face (not from alcohol this time) and you purse your lips in embarrassment as sae’s grin only gets bigger.
“so just hurry up and be mine already.”
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BONUS: the morning after
you wake up with a pounding headache, and immediately try to get up to get a drink of water, but your body doesn’t budge at all.
as your eyes begin to adjust, you look down to find sae and his arms locked around you, causing a scoff to come out of your mouth.
of course you couldn’t move when a whole professional football player (incredibly fit btw😍) has a death grip on you.
“sae, wake up.” you nudge him and he only whines in response. “didn’t you have a flight to catch this morning?”
“mm, shush.” he takes one of his arms and lightly pushes you back down into his embrace. “who cares about that, been waiting for this for far too long.”
you laugh and decide to give in, slowly drifting back to sleep.
meanwhile, sae’s nonstop vibrating phone on your nightstand is totally unnoticed, the cause being hundreds of messages and calls from his manager wondering where he is.
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fir3ylolol · 6 months
Text
we want you! pt.2
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pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader
tw: vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, afab!reader, riding, seated sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praise, soft moments, aftercare, sleeping over, quick shower sex, eating out, im incapable of not writing whiny men, i had to write him soft yall he would take such good care of you
a/n: COME GET YALLS DILF!! im so happy w/all the interaction ive been getting, its so reassuring. idk if there'll be a 3rd part, I'm not too sure where to go lol. we shall see!
word count: 2.07 k
other parts
Ao3
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“Oh shit,” you sit up, wobbling slightly at the blood rush. “I-I didn’t tell you my name?” You look at him incredulously. “You slept with me even though you didn’t know my name??” Sitting up slowly, he laughs at your surprise, “I mean, it's not like I don’t know you. I know about your family, your studies, your work. You’re not exactly a closed book.” Sighing, you plop back down on the bed, “You’re right, I guess.” As you turn your head to him, you breathe your name out, with Johnny perking up at the sound.
“I like that. It’s good,” he lays back down next to you. He pulls you closer to his chest, whispering, “I think I’ll stick to love though, you always sounded so pretty when I did.” Slightly whining at his words, you stretch your neck up to kiss him gently. He accepts happily, wrapping one hand around the back of your neck to pull you up to deepen the kiss. As you two start making out, his free hand reaches down to grab your bare ass. He slaps it lightly, laughing into your mouth at the way you jump. “Sorry, sorry, I couldn't help myself. Besides, you left one of my questions unanswered.” Tilting your head in a teasing way, you manage to get out, “Keep kissing me and you’ll have your answer.”
He wastes no time in diving back in, using his grip on your ass to pull you on top of him. Resting your legs on either side of him, you tangle your hands in his hair, which is soft under your fingers. He groans lightly at the feeling, of you on top of him, and knowing how close you two are is dangerous. His suspicions are confirmed when you begin to lightly grind against him, quickly growing hard again. He’s a lot more sensitive than before, sensitivity heightened from his very recent orgasm. So when you reach one hand around to grab his cock, it’s his turn to jump, whimpering into your mouth.
“What? I thought you wanted more,” you ask, teasing him with your words. He quickly stops you with another heated kiss, pulling away for air. “I want so much more just…be gentle with the equipment, yeah?” Giggling as you resume the kiss, you rub the fat tip of his cock against your folds, making sure you’re wet enough to take him. And wet you are, hearing it slightly over the sound of Johnny’s moans echoing throughout your head as you two keep kissing. It’s broken again as you finally sink back down onto him, no need to adjust this time. Both of his hands are on your ass now, tight grip on them as he gasps at the feeling of being back inside you. His eyelids flutter as he looks up at you, voice coming out in a barely audible whisper, “S-shit, that’s’good”, words slightly slurring. It’s like he's actually pussy drunk, mouth held agape and pupils blown out.
You sit up, starting to roll your hips in smooth, slow movements. With each bit you move, he whines out more, head thrown back against your comforter. His eyes are still closed as the grip he has on you tightens, and he starts moving your hips faster. Or at least, trying to, since you hold steady and lock your legs against his sides. Now no one is moving, needy whimpers pour from his lips, pleading cries of “C’mon, please baby. This ain’t fair, teasing me like this-”
But you start to move again, finally at the pace he wants. The only difference is that he’s not in control like he would’ve been. No, now he’s looking up at you, eyes rolling back in his head as the hold he had on you is loosened. Leaning forward to press your chest against him, you continue bouncing on him, stoking his cock with your body. He is whining out in the most delicious way in your ear, continuous praises of “Thank you, baby, thank you so much…” His hips occasionally buck up into you, halting the rhythm you have temporarily, which he does complain about. Loudly. Until…
He grabs your hips suddenly, holding you down against him, unable to move. “Wait wait wait…” he breathes out, trying to catch his breath. “Let me just…” You feel him shifting under you, wrapping his arms around you as he sits up. He scoots to the edge of the bed, feet planted on the ground. Looking up at you with sweet puppy-dog eyes, his chin resting on your chest, he smiles as he whispers, “I wanna make you feel good too.” He lifts you off of himself, hands around your waist, and holds you out so you can stand on your own. Once on your feet, he motions for you to spin, lightly touching himself at the sight of you in front of him. Partially confused, you do, back turned to him. He grabs your hips, pulling you back to him and down. As you sit, you slowly sink back down onto him, the new angle causing him to hit the exact right spot. He gently spreads your legs apart, one hand reaching down to rub against your swollen clit, earning a moan from you.
“There we go,” he whispers in your ear, free hand against your waist as he begins fucking up into you, your whole body bouncing against him. Now it’s your turn to be noisy, as the movement against his hand quickly pushes you toward your finish. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, biting and sucking at the skin. Both of you are extremely sensitive, but it seems you’re a little more so, as you lean your head back onto his other shoulder, face scrunched in pleasure.
“S-shit, don’t stop-ah!” You snap forward as you cum, it sneaks up on you in your sensitive state. Johnny bites down harder, a muffled moan vibrating through you. But he doesn’t slow, in fact, he does the opposite, speeding up. Both hands shoot up to wrap around your waist, holding you tight to himself as he continues wildly fucking into you. Finally letting go of the flesh he had trapped in his mouth, he starts spewing obscenities in your ear. “Hah, fuck, you feel so good when you cum baby, holy shit. So fuckin good, I’m losing my mind here. God, where have you been? How could I live this long without pussy this good?”
With only enough energy left to stay with him and let out high-pitched whines, your hands slowly reach up to wrap behind his head. Taking that to mean ‘I need more’, the same hand of his scrambles back down, nearly slipping off you from how wet you are. You let out a strangled moan, vision going black around the edges. Neither of you are very loud anymore, reduced to whimpers and quiet cries, the sound of his body slapping against yours lewdly is all you can hear. You’re brought there even faster this time, almost too much to handle at how sensitive you really are. Quickly, you cum around him one last time, your body falling forward slightly at the total loss of energy as you feel his hips stutter at the feeling. At almost the exact same time, so does he, nasal whines in your ear as he grips your body even tighter. He falls the opposite way, back onto the bed, bringing you with him. You lay there on top of him, head spinning and heavy breaths.
After what feels like forever, he shifts you off him and lays your head on a pillow. Pulling himself next to you, he whispers in your ear, “You need anything? Water? A towel?” Turning your head, you nod slightly and close your eyes. He laughs slightly, but gets up, whispering, “I asked two questions, but that works.” Hearing light shuffling in your kitchen and then the bathroom, he finally returns. He places the towel under you with a proud smile and puts the water on your nightstand. “I found everything love,” he says as he lays back down next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist.
“You did so good dear, so good,” he whispers, kissing your cheek tenderly. After what just went down, you definitely needed this. Your shaky hands reach out and grab the water, taking a gulp. Plopping back down, you turn to him, voice slightly louder than before, “You wanna hang out tomorrow?” He stares at you, almost confused, before snort-laughing at you. “Kind of going in the wrong order, huh?” Huffing, you try to turn over, but he holds you tighter, nuzzling into you. “It sounds amazing. Sounds like a plan. Now, though, you should rest.” Unable to resist how comfortable he is and how tired you are, you quickly succumb to sleep.
Waking up slowly to the sun in your eyes, you notice how sore you are. Everything from the previous night floods in, and you look over to notice that he’s gone. Damn. He seemed so sweet though, and caring, and…and you smell food cooking. Trudging out, heavy feet on the cold floor, you see Johnny, back in just his pajama bottoms, cutting up fruit. He turns at the sound of you entering the room, eyes lighting up as he smiles and walks over to you. “Good morning, sleepy. Feel ok?” You walk directly into him, face against his chest. He laughs, wrapping his arms around you lightly, fingers tracing shapes on your back. “Well, that answers it. I’m glad I got up before you then, I’ve got some food ready. You want some?” Nodding sleepily, he smiles, whispering “Yeah? C’mere.” He leads you to a seat at your table, helping you sit down. He places a plate with fruit and toast in front of you, a glass of water, and a bowl of oatmeal. “I worked with what you had. You should really go grocery shopping.” He sits next to you, face still glowing with happiness. As you eat, he talks about how he slept, that he woke up early to call out of work, and that he can’t wait to spend the day with you.
You finish eating, finally fully awake, and get up to get ready for the day. But Johnny jumps up, lightly grabbing your wrist. “Ah, wait. I don’t want you to get dressed yet…take such a lovely view away from me.” Smiling at him, you turn your wrist so that you’re holding his hand. “Then get ready with me.” You start to lead him towards the bathroom, which he happily follows you to. As you turn the shower on, getting the water nice and hot, he stares at you, a wide smile across your face. “God, I’m so lucky.” You turn to face him, eyes confused, but smile just as wide. “Shut up and get in already.” He quickly follows you in, flinching at the heat, but quickly adjusting. Without wasting a second, he’s pressed you into the corner, lips pressing into yours messily. You lean into him, one hand reaching out to stroke him lightly. But that only lasts so long, as he drops to his knees, lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, and begins lazily eating you out. Obviously still sore, you hiss at the feeling, but it feels so good that you ignore it. His tongue is pressed against you, sucking at your sensitive clit, but only for a little bit. He stands back up, grabbing your hips and lifting you up. You’re pressed into the corner still, as he leans in and guides himself in. Both of you groan at the feeling, bodies still remembering the previous night, but your desires surpass that. 
He’s fucking into you, your legs wrapped around his torso. He uses the stability of the wall and slams his hips into yours. The water is missing both of you as he wildly bucks into you, moaning into open-mouthed kisses. It doesn’t take long at all for him to cum, which he seems kind of embarrassed about, but it doesn’t matter to you. Kissing him lightly as he set you down, you smile up at him and hold his hand tightly. Smiling back, he squeezes your hand back. “Let’s not waste any more water, yeah?
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setsugekka · 11 months
Text
❥summer hair = forever young (m)
↳ Only three weeks after being broken up with by your long time partner, you’re dragged along for your friends summer vacation plans despite your best attempts at staying home to do little more than feel sorry for yourself.
Day one? Dinner and a movie.
Day two? The bar down the street that smells like old socks.
Day three? Well, that’s the waterpark, and the cute, blonde lifeguard that seems to make the lazy river his mainstay is a bit of a sight for sore eyes.
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lee jeno x fem!reader — summer fling, strangers to lovers, fluff, light angst, porn with plot, explicit sexual content. [18,1k wc] cws: alcohol consumption, penetrative sex, oral sex (f), praise, dirty talk, body cum-shot, Lee Jeno has a Big Dick.
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J♡ [22:40]: i just think with summer coming up it's probably for the best, we had fun but we both knew it wasn't a forever thing anyway
A year and a half. Just like that.
Even now, two days after the break up text from your boyfriend — the boyfriend that you were very much in love with and very much thought it to be at the very least a potential forever thing with — you find yourself coming back to it. Rereading it. Wondering what it was that brought the two of you to the here and now of it all.
Though, the pictures of him at a party that had been posted the following day sort of gave it away, you suppose.
Still, there had been talk of future plans, futures together and what that looked like. Maybe not quite a family and the white picket fence just yet — but there had been discussions over romantic dinners and between the sheets after some particularly enjoyable bedroom romps. At least, you had thought as much.
In hindsight, a break up always causes you to put every interaction leading up to it under a microscope. What could you have done differently, better, how could you have avoided the reality that you now find yourself in.
You choose not to reread over the texts you've sent him since, mostly out of humiliation of the fact. Through the crying and the begging and the reducing yourself down to someone that you don't even recognize even in the worst of times, the only thing that makes it that much worse is the lack of any such acknowledgement from a man who had once promised you so much of himself. Not granted even so much as a conversation — hell, he couldn't even be bothered to meet you in person to do it properly — the most likely case? Jaehyun met some girl at some party that in the moment he felt was worth ending the relationship for.
And in times like this, you realize it's difficult to think that you ever really know someone at all.
In the following weeks, your friends are kind, but even you can tell that they begin to get fed up with your insistence on being miserable over a guy that couldn't grace you with even an ounce of the same thoughtfulness.
Constantly turning down plans in favor of staying home on the couch with a bag of snacks and some shitty romance flick, the squad of pals that you've collected over the years only becomes more and more pushy of your getting up and out there once again — in the nicest way, of course. Comments about how he wasn't even that handsome (a lie) and wouldn't end up being all that successful anyway (also a lie) sneak themselves into conversations at any brief moment that any of them can sneak them in, as if attempting to convince you of the fact; rather, the reminder of him only serves as just that. You don't need it, because you're still at a point of pain in your chest where Jaehyun is always there. Knocking, jabbing, not allowing himself to fall off from your mind even for a second.
They mean well, but these things take time. You're thankful that with summer vacation coming up and the girls having plans to go out of town for a few weeks that you'll be granted a small amount of reprieve from the barrage of commentary, at the very least.
That is, of course, until the day comes.
"Rise and shine, darling! We're going on a mission!"
Waking to the shrill voice of one of the girls as she rips the covers off of your body — simultaneously exposing your freshly opened eyes to the offending illumination of the sunlight outside as another girl pulls open the curtains of a window just across the room — you briefly attempt to reach for the duvet before instead accepting defeat and instead slumping back into the cushion of the mattress, anticipating whatever nonsense these women have in store for you this time.
"What kind of mission?" You ask with a dry and throaty groan.
With blankets bunched in her arms, a girl with long, silver hair brings herself just next to your head while you remain lied and despondent in bed. "Today we leave for summer vacation."
One eye cracked open at the words from Winter's mouth, you groan again before answering her. "Yes, you all leave for summer vacation. I told you I wasn't going."
"Why?" Another girl chimes in from the doorway. A beautiful woman with long, silky black hair. "So you can stay here all month long and continue feeling bad for yourself? That guy was a fuckin' loser anyway."
"Karina."
"What?" She adds in retaliation. "He was."
Still standing by the window and with a white curtain in hand, Giselle rolls her eyes at her friends bluntness. Really, you know them all to believe it to be the case, but Karina is the only one willing to go to such feats to speak on it.
"What she means is that it would probably do you some good to get out and come away with us," Giselle amends, garnering a rather unbothered shrug from Karina along the way. "It's only two weeks, it certainly couldn't hurt."
Sighing at the words, you remain laid out in the comfort of your bed. Staring at the ceiling, you realize that there is still a small part of you that can't help but consider the possibility of Jaehyun calling you to tell you of the mistake that he has made, that the two of you should meet up and rekindle things, and the thought of being far away and well out of reach should that time come to pass causes an uncomfortable twisting in your gut that you're not all that ready to disclose to your friends in the room.
Partially because you know it to be so far from the realm of possibility, and partially because it's not a conversation that you're all that interested in rehashing with them now, either.
Regardless, you know there to be truth in their words. Staying home and feeling bad about where your love life has ended up thus far is not going to serve you: not in the near or the far future. Knowing as much, it then begs the question...
Is it worth throwing away an entire summer vacation for?
Inhaling slowly, your lips part to speak, but as your eyes fall upon Winter once more, you watch as her face begins to twist into that of glee before the words even begin to leave your mouth.
"Yes!" She exclaims with a jump before turning and ushering the other girls to begin packing belongings for your last minute trip.
It's only a few hours over to the next town by the beach, anyway, so if they forget anything of importance you'll easily be able to find something to make up for it upon arrival. You leave them to it over the calamity of delighted squeals as the women shove your belongings into a bag, and as you stare up at the ceiling over your head for one last time before your departure, you can't help but wonder: what are you getting yourself into this summer?
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Four hours and twenty minutes in the backseat of Ningning's luxury SUV.
It's not the worst way to get somewhere, but the additional hour of travel time most certainly could have been shaved off if any of the people in the car capable enough of navigating a GPS application.
Instead, the time there offers you far too much ability to live with your own thoughts about whether or not you're in the right headspace to truly be making this trip. Granted, it's a little bit too late for that now on account of not being able to back out should you even want to — rather, you can't help but wonder if you're already regretful of having allowed yourself to be dragged along for such a thing.
Every ten minutes or so you check your phone for a message, not that you're keeping track or anything.
The concern is alleviated for a time upon finally reaching the summer beach house, at least. From the outside it's nothing fancy; perhaps appearing as nothing more than a typical, large family home at a glance — but putting together the knowledge of it being just walking distance from the sandy coast out back and the large count of at least six bedrooms inside — you know it to be far beyond just the way that it may present. Expected, of Ningning and her affluent family, and at the very least you're thankful in knowing that you'll have a bedroom for yourself that most likely has a lock on the door should you wish to take some time away from the girls at hand.
You feel somewhat guilty in thinking that, though: friends that you've known since the beginnings of high school and now well into the tail end of higher educational years, people who have been with you through thick and thin and through all of your poor decisions, messy break ups, and rash meltdowns. For whatever reason, this one feels different. The desire to be away and alone with nothing more than your feelings of sorrow, and sometimes you find yourself even lamenting the fact that you have to acknowledge anyone or anything outside of that.
It's good to feel your feelings, this much you know. It's probably better to not allow them to consume you, however uncomfortable it is, though.
Blonde hair swishing through the air as she twirls with keys jingling in hand, Ningning turns with a wide smile to the rest of you as she pushes the front door open and subsequently removes herself from the doorway to allow you all to go before her. "Home sweet home!"
Upon entering the premises, you can't help but think that 'sweet' may be an understatement: two stories and ceilings higher than you can really even fathom with more window paning serving as a perimeter than proper walling — it's most definitely a luxury home, and one that you couldn't really fathom ever owning for yourself, or even really being able to afford renting for a getaway such as this without the additional help of a well-off pal.
It's beautiful, and it makes you realize just how lucky you are to have friends willing to drag you out of your misery to force you to come along and experience it with them.
"Bedrooms are upstairs except for the largest one, which I'll be staying in on account of familial ties," the girl proudly explains as you all enter and set your bags down in the living room area. "Kitchen is to the left, as is another, smaller living area, pool, deck, and then obviously you guys can figure out how to get to the beach."
It goes without saying, because even though the sun is out upon your arrival, you can't imagine not being able to see the crashing of waves even in the nighttime from where you stand now. Looking out towards the coast, it makes your heart swell with promise and thankfulness once over.
You gotta give it to them, they might have been right.
Still, you've checked your phone twice since you've arrived.
"Should we freshen up then have dinner?" Karina asks suddenly and with evident excitement in her voice. You all nod.
"Dinner and a movie in on the first night," Winter adds, grabbing her bags once again. "But after that I expect nothing but trouble until we have to go back home."
Somehow, you don't doubt that to be the outcome, either.
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Day two is simple, and much to Winter's displeasure. You, however, are a bit thankful for it on account of your inability to truly settle in. It helps after having gone to the bar just down the way and having a few drinks — that always does the trick in getting you to dreamland, but the aid of alcoholic beverages isn't one that you wish to rely on as a crutch for sleeping during your two week stay and without another plan of action, you think it best to take it easy and lie a little low for what may be the remainder of the trip for you.
When day three rolls around and Karina excitedly throws out the option of the enormous, landmark of a waterpark that the city is known for — everyone is beyond elated at the suggestion, even you.
Some sun and a little outdoors could probably do you good, and on top of that, you'll be far too exhausted from a day out not to get a good nights rest by the time your body meets the comfort of your bed.
With swimsuits on and towels in hand as the five of you enter the gates of the park, you realize that you had overlooked how busy it would be — and by quite a wide margin.
Crowds not really your thing and especially not during some of the hottest days of summer, you bite back any possible complaints you could have and instead focus on the positives: you and your friends are looking fine as hell, there's a comfortable breeze that you couldn't be happier to feel right about now, and your phone is tucked away inside of a locker — far from your sight until the day is over.
You're hopeful for any thoughts of him being just as tucked away as a result, too.
In the meantime and barely out of sight long enough for you to even notice, Giselle pops back up to your side with a bright blue slushie in one hand. "What should we do first?"
"Where did you even get that?" You can't help but question.
Turning and pointing, Giselle brings your line of vision over to a shirtless man standing at a small kiosk only a few feet away. "Hot guy selling them."
"We should definitely see if there's any more of those around here," Karina adds upon looking, and as a result, you cock your head somewhat confused. "Slushies?"
"Hot guys," she confirms sternly.
The thing about post-break up heartbreak is that often times the blinders to other people some times turn themselves on without your knowing it.
That is to say that even though you're not actively thinking about Jaehyun, and there are extremely attractive men here, you can't say that you're all that interested in the fact.
Standing back, you find joy at least in watching your friends enjoy themselves as they flirt with strange guys and playfully pat their arms and shoulders — laughing at jokes that aren't funny but for this, we can pretend — you know it all too well, and you suppose that from an outsiders point of view, it certainly is amusing, and given how long the line is up to this slide, you're thankful for the entertainment.
Nearing thirty minutes in line for one attraction in the hot, beating down summer sun is far from your idea of a good time, but you can see the end soon approaching, and while you cannot imagine that the ride down be worthy of this sort of gathering of people, the faster you can get up there, on the ride, and down, the better.
With only a small family of four ahead of your group now, you and the girls stand just near the very top of the water slide. Sweat pooling in all sorts of places that you'd really rather it not on account of the heat, you find yourself nearing the end of your willingness to enjoy this place, and more than that, you're happy that this is one of those slides that holds numerous people at once so that no one has to wait to get down from what you might consider now to be the highest mountain in the pits of Hell.
The family goes along their way, and with Karina ahead of you and the other behind you, the girl leans back to whisper towards you through the loud shouts of happy children surrounding you.
"Oh, girl—"
Granted, you don't know what this means as you continue with the last couple of steps to the top. Not until you get up there and your eyes land on precisely what it is that you know garnered that type of reaction from her.
Standing just beside the opening of the slide and preparing an inflatable tube for your party of pals, he doesn't take notice of you and yours before your lot does of him, and for that you're somewhat thankful considering the way that your eyes rake over the toned, tanned, display of arms and a bleached-blonde undercut of hair with the sides and back all too freshly shaven, at that.
With a loose tank top covering his torso, you can't help but feel a bit disappointed in the fact. A modest man working at the waterpark, you think, and it brings a bit of a grin to your lips despite the joke only being known to you.
In that moment and with it now being your turn to ride, he looks up and makes eye contact with you, in particular — a wide smile of teeth that's matched by an equally pleasant eye smile, as well — punctuated by a small freckle just at the lower corner of his right eye.
"First time riding?"
"What?"
You realize as soon as the affronted response leaves your lips that it is no ones fault but your own that you've responded to such a normal question in this way. Perhaps entirely on account of your eye-fucking the cute lifeguard before he even manages to get a word in edgewise, you watch him cock his head to the side inquisitively at your answer before snorting out a bit of a chuckle through his nose and continuing on as if you're not a complete fucking freak in public.
"Is it your first time? On this ride?"
"Oh," you answer back as normally as you can possibly muster up. "Uh, yeah, first time."
"Cool," he says, holding the raft still while your friends climb on and get into position beside you. "Hold onto the railing, don't let go, don't stick your hands out and try to touch anything along the way."
With a knowing grin, Karina leans forward to grab his attention as he pulls you and your girls towards the opening of the slide. "What happens if I lose a finger? Are you going to come down there and rescue me?"
It's flirtatious, although you can't help but think the logistics of it could potentially use some work.
But with little more than a shake of his head and a smile, the cute blonde answers the inquiry in the best way you think him to know how.
"I work at a waterpark, don't think you want me sewing anything on you back together. Have fun!"
And with that, the hot lifeguard disappears into the dark, black abyss of the waterslide.
When the day comes to a close and simultaneously, the park itself, with gentle sunburns gracing you and your friends skin and with slushies in hand, the five of you finally retrieve your belongings from the lockers near the entrance.
You check the screen of your phone to find little more than a text from your mother, asking how you're doing and if you're having a good time.
Looking forward to the day in which not finding a message from your ex won't make your throat feel like swallowed needles, as well.
"I see everyone made it out with all of their appendages."
The voice and joke are familiar in a sort of way that you can't seem to place just yet, but upon raising your sights from the depressing display at hand and towards the person in which the words have come from, it all comes rushing back to you at lightning speed. Eyes wide and taken quite aways aback, you just about drop your phone and as a result of scrambling to not let it meet the wet concrete of the floor below, nearly make a mess of the icy, blue beverage in hand, as well.
Thankfully, neither disastrous outcome make themselves to be — but still, your inability to be even a little bit normal in front of a man you've known for all of two minutes is getting a little out of hand, at this point.
Still in the same white, cut up t-shirt from back at the slides, the two of you make eye contact for a moment before you realize that you should probably actually say something to him in response.
"Yeah, well," you start with a nod back behind him and towards where Karina stands. "She was the one with intent to remove fingers, not me."
Pausing to glance back over his shoulder and acknowledge the other woman, he gives her a nod before turning his attention back and towards you.
"Good, because I really mean it when I say I can't sew for shit."
You can't help but chuckle at the words. "Would be quite a repertoire of skills under your belt if that were to be the case."
"Indeed. You live around here or on vacation?"
Sly, you think to yourself. Granted, you don't hate the attention especially since he seems keen on directing it to you, in particular. It does beg the question, however, of how much of a point is there to any of this, really? A summer fling can be fun, sure, although not exactly your usual speed of doing things — and especially not off of the back of some of the worst heartbreak you've ever experienced — you look the man in front of you over just one more time before parting dry, chapped lips to respond to him in some form or another.
"Vacation," you grant him, albeit slowly, as if anticipating something suspicious in his questioning. "Why?"
It's sort of a stupid question, you know.
Perching a well-defined arm up against the metal locker next to the both of you, he leans into it and maintains eye contact with you before answering as much. "We should do something while you're in town."
Reeling at how forward he is, your answer comes out a bit more stuttered than you would have liked to begin with. "I—I'm not sure there's much point in tha—"
But regardless, Karina is there to interject, anyway.
Nudging herself into the scene and with her own phone in hand, the woman stands between you and him to do something that you stand a bit half and half on: it's somewhat annoying, and a bit out of bounds especially as friendships go to be giving out your number to men that you've only barely just met...however...
He is so fine, and a bit charming, to boot.
"Here's her number," you hear your friend say as she stands with her back towards you. The whole thing takes place in a matter of seconds, and as he slides his phone back into his pocket, Karina makes haste in whisking herself back out of the scene, but not before flashing you a knowing, mischievous smile.
"Trouble that one is, huh?" He says, thumbing back over his shoulder as she disappears into the rest of your friend group.
"You have no idea," you sigh in response, and now resigned to the fact that this is definitely going to be some kind of thing, you figure it best to move along towards the next most obvious course of action. Whatever this is going to be, after all. "So, what's your name?"
Corners of his mouth pulling into an all too pleasant curl, you hate how much it sort of makes you melt at the sight of it. An unfortunate side effect of much too attractive and seemingly also kinda cool guys, you figure.
"Jeno," he says, as if delighted by the fact that you would ever even ask. "Lee Jeno."
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Over the next handful of days — through a shocking amount of quiet evenings spent at home around take-out boxes and cheap wine with the girls — texts from the cute blonde at the waterpark that you now know to be named Jeno come far more frequently than you realize you had anticipated.
For one, he knows that you don't live around here so you can't imagine there to be much of a reason for him to be pursuing you for much more than a fun romp in the sheets, only to then never speak to you ever again. It's not an arrangement you're all that opposed to under normal circumstances, though you can't help but consider that where you are mentally and emotionally right about now is far from normal circumstances.
And two, he hasn't really laid on the same sort of aggressive, sexual interest that you may have expected from a guy looking for that sort of thing.
In fact, talking to Jeno is just pretty...casual.
Seemingly making it a point to text you late into the night and right before bed (incredible timing every time, you note), you chuckle every time thinking that this time to be the one where he comes on strong. After all, most men only text women that they're interested in this late at night for one thing and one thing only, so every time as the chime of your phone receiving a message comes through, you arm yourself with the armor of anticipating something heinous to some degree — you can only hope that it's not a dick pic, at least.
Phone in hand, lights off and snuggling into the plush, comfortable sheets of your bedding, you unlock your phone and navigate to your messaging application to see just what it is that lies in wait for you this evening.
Jeno [01:23]: good morning, or night, i never know how to announce myself at this time of the day
It's sort of annoying the way you can't help but smile, but you're thankful enough for the fact that he is unable to see the effect he already has on you in such a way.
In the wake of being told that you're not wanted, not desired — sometimes it's nice to have a reminder that not everyone feels that way.
You have no intention of engaging in anything more than basic flirtation with this man, but hey, that can be enough.
You [01:24]: how do you always know exactly when i'm settling in for bed?
Typing bubble popping up immediately after sending your message, you can't help but wonder just how eager this guy really is to be the receiver of your full attention.
Jeno [01:24]: i have karina on look out so she can let me know precisely the right time to hit you up
You [01:24]: creepy, but i respect your willingness to tell me, at least
Jeno [01:25]: well, you know what they say, honesty is the best policy. what are you guys doing tomorrow night?
Taking a moment to mull over the question before you begin typing your reply, you answer him easily, but mostly out of curiosity in why it is that he's asking.
You [01:26]: i don't think we have anything planned? you can ask karina ;p
Jeno [01:26]: very funny, are you going to hold that terrible joke over my head forever? anyway, my friend is having a party at his place, parents out of town for a week, you guys should come by.
You're none too proud of the way your heart beats just that much harder for a split second in time at the coming through of the invitation. Still, play it cool.
You [01:27]: i'll ask the girls tomorrow if we have anything going on and i'll get back to you. are any of your friends cute?
You're not sure you've ever seen the typing bubble pop up that quickly in your life after sending that message.
Jeno [01:27]: really man? already trying to scope out my friend group to see if you can get an upgrade? :(
You [01:28]: i have friends...they will want to know...it will likely be a huge deciding factor in whether or not we show up at all so think carefully lol
Jeno [01:28]: fine! yeah i guess some of them are handsome, not quite as handsome as me but you know what can you do? hehe
Rolling your eyes but with grin still plastered across your lips, you begin typing your response back to him.
You [01:28]: i'll pass the message along then
Jeno [01:29]: cool. get some sleep then, you really shouldn't be texting strange men so late at night anyway, who knows what could happen hehehe goodnight, rest well
Part of you wants to rebuke the claim despite very much having already considered it for yourself, but in an effort to not appear too interested and too eager, you simply leave the conversation alone and with that as the last message sent for the evening.
Butterflies in your stomach and the promise of who-knows-what at this party tomorrow leaves sleep hard to come by, but you figure it's at least a little worth it if it means checking your phone for text messages from a different man whose name starts with a 'J' for once.
Of course, you're none too surprised once you find yourself at said house party.
A bit more rambunctious than what you'd typically like to find yourself at back home — with slews of college-aged people running, yelling, dancing and talking amongst themselves as well as throughout the entire premises of the property both in and outside — as you and your friends make your way inside to the enormous stacking of alcohol bottles and disposable plastic cups, it's one particularly bright head of blonde hair that catches the corner of your eye as he makes his way across the room and towards you with a smile.
Nudging your arm gently with his elbow, as if to say 'I told you so' about your being there at all, Jeno grins even wider once your eyes meet. "So? What do you think?"
Looking around briefly, you glance back towards him with suspicion plastered across your face.
"I'm starting to think you might be too young for me."
Jeno reels at the suggestion with eyes wide and full of shock. "Why? Adults can party. You don't party?"
"I do, just not typically messy frat house parties...at least, not anymore."
Knitting his eyebrows together and slanting his grin, Jeno cocks his head sideways to look at you with something of a twinge of judgment. "It's a beach town, and a popular destination for summer breakers obviously, what do you expect? Maybe try winter break, next time."
Nudging you again to punctuate the thought playfully, you look back towards Giselle who quickly pushes an alcoholic concoction of you'll-never-know into your hand with a grin before her and the others begin to disappear into the crowd.
"Wait! Where are you guys going?"
"You have your date, we're going to find ours," Winter answers back with a casual flip of her hair. Then, her attention pulls to the man standing just beside you. "What was his name again?"
"Jaemin."
"Whatever," she says quickly and as if nothing he could have possibly responded with would have made any sort of a difference either way. "We'll be around, we all have our phones. If you need someone, you know how to get us."
Panic subtly settling in at the thought of being left alone with this guy that you barely know at all, it's not that you feel unsafe with him, or that you can't trust his intentions — no, it's far from anything so insidious that has your nerves firing and the anxiety bubbling up in your gut.
What if it's awkward?
"Ta-ta!" Ningning chimes as the four of them walk away, and it's in that moment that you realize you are deep, deep into the lions den, now.
In a room full of busy people, you can't think of a time that you've ever felt quite so alone.
Then, you feel your phone vibrate. A message from Karina.
Kari [20:42]: let the hot guy from the waterpark make it all better :p you know what they say, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else
Turning your phone far out of sight of Jeno upon reading the message, another comes through before you have the chance to begin typing any kind of reply to her.
Kari [20:42]: or bent over by someone else, or on top of someone else? well you can fill me in on the details when he's done filling
You don't bother reading the rest of the message as you quickly lock your phone and shuffle it back into your pocket, but you're thankful enough when your attention comes back to Jeno that in the meantime he has struck up conversation with another guy just beside him. It gives you a moment to look him over for the first time, too: messily slicked back blonde hair and black button down shirt that's equally messily tucked into far too nicely fitting black jeans with a carefully placed aesthetic rip at one of the knees.
He looks good, and you're glad you didn't over or underdress in your fitted jeans and simple blouse, also.
"This is my friend, Renjun, he's the home owner...well, sort of," Jeno starts once he realizes you're finished with the nonsense going on within your cellular device. "He's one of the handsome ones we touched on briefly last night."
Introducing yourself in kind, you shake hands with the new acquaintance as he laughs at the concept of being discussed. "Thanks, happy to know I made the cut, I guess. What are you doing talking to this fuckin' guy, anyway?"
Jeno's eyes widen at the sudden attack. "Hey! I just complimented you, come on!"
Not helping the laugh that erupts from their jest, you take a sip of your horrendous drink before responding. "It's been a little out of my hands from the get-go. I'm just sort of along for the ride, he keeps texting me every night, what am I supposed to do?"
"Ah, yeah, I've heard that about this one before," Renjun nods and sighs, with Jeno spiraling into disaster beside the both of you all the while. "Can't let him start texting, he'll never quit. I hate to tell you, but you're basically married, now. He's a level five clinger."
"I am not a level five clinger!"
"That's unfortunate," you casually respond, carrying on the conversation with Renjun as if Jeno not even standing there at all. "Hopefully he doesn't have any weird quirks that are hard to live with, then."
Renjun shakes his head as he takes a sip from his own cup. "Nah, he's a pretty simple guy, all things considered, I think you'll have a pretty easy time with this one."
"Well that's comforting, at least."
"Hello!" Jeno finally interjects with success, stalling the ongoing banter and bringing both of your attention back to him. "I'm literally right here!"
Smiling then, Renjun brings a heavy hand up and to the back of Jeno's shoulder before turning on his heel and beginning his exit in the wake of destruction. "Have fun, call me if you need anything."
With a lull in the ongoing messiness that so far is this evening as it stands, you and Jeno stand calmly before one another for a few moments with no words spoken; that is, of course, until his lips part and he gently offers up an idea of his own.
"Want to go some place quieter so we can talk?"
There's certainly a distinct level of unease that courses through your bones with every step you take towards the second level of the home. Passing by people already paired off for the evening and making out on the steps for what feels like forever — you can't help but wonder if this is some kind of preliminary entry into what he thinks is going to be on the agenda for the evening. Yes, you had already considered this much, and yes, you're aware of precisely the types of things that go on at parties such as this, but it doesn't mean that just because you're here and to see a guy, at that, that you're resigning yourself to partaking in any such festivities.
Jeno leads the way, and once the two of you make it up to the dimly lit hallway lined with a handful of doors — some open, some closed, and a handful of people leaned against the walls engaging in their own, private activities — it's as he continues towards one of the open doors of what you could only presume to be a bedroom that your heart sinks into your stomach and you dig your heels into the ground.
"I don't—" Is all you can manage out, because it's awkward and you don't really want to make an ordeal out of this either. You don't know this man, and especially not well enough to know how he'll take to being denied the thing that he seems to be under the impression that he will be obtaining tonight. As a result, you lay out the 'soft no,' in hopes that it will be enough to get the point across.
Head turning and glancing back at you upon hearing the words, you're a little taken aback by his response: less because of any of the potential, aforementioned reasons, but rather...because he appears confused.
Did he really think he had it in the bag that easily? Just because you showed up tonight?
The thought is enough to raise a level of irritation in you that has you feeling comfortable enough in asserting yourself just that much more. "I don't want to—I'm not going to—"
It still takes a second, but when he finally realizes, it seems to hit him like a semi-truck.
"O—Oh, no! No, no! That's not...I wasn't...I didn't think—"
Hands up in front of his chest as if in full retreat just on account of the mere implication of it, you're a little charmed by the tinge of blush that takes across his cheeks and especially highlights his ears.
But more than that, you believe him in his earnest.
"I just thought because it's quieter up here, no music and less people...I didn't think anything was going to—we can keep the door open! Or go back downstairs, anything is fine by me."
You're charmed, just a bit. You hate to admit it to yourself, and you certainly aren't going to admit it to this man, but you are.
Offering him a gentle smile, you nod back towards the direction in which he had been heading just prior. "It's fine, we can go—" you say, stepping forward again with insistence that Jeno do the same, and as the two of you meet side by side once more, you're careful to add one more addition, just for clarity sake.
"—But keep the door open."
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A couple of days later and once the banging drum of headaches and hangovers have worn off, with the friend groups now thoroughly enough enmeshed on account of Renjun's family home and an absolutely unfathomable amount of adult beverages, the next most obvious plan of action is set into motion.
Dinner and bowling.
One thing about this town that you've come to realize is that there is little to do — and especially during the summer time — that doesn't directly involve alcohol and partying. With most restaurants and shops closed until the middle of August at least, the guys are happy enough to inform that there is still one mainstay left that doesn't involve having a terrible time the next morning.
The dinner seating is something that you can't help but take note of: two, long tables pushed together by the wait staff to accommodate such a large party of patrons, with Jeno sat right across the table from you, you notice the way that certain budding couples seem similarly paired off. It's sort of cute, in a way, but you choose not to pay it much mind. Sure, chats with the handsome blonde just along the way serve as a pleasant way to pass the time, and you'd be lying to yourself (and doing a terrible job of it, at that) if you tried to say that you hadn't at least briefly considered where else this could go just for a fun little before the vacation were to come to an end.
Just as the thought comes to its conclusion in your mind, your eyes come up and meet Jeno's over the brim of his beer glass.
That charming-ass eye smile.
Slowly, he brings the glass down while maintaining eye contact, his hand disappears under the table, and you watch his eyes fall to whatever it is that he's doing under there.
Your questions are answered promptly, however, by the vibration of your phone in your jacket pocket.
Jeno [18:12]: interesting seating arrangements we've got here
You try to bite back your smile. Easier said than done, and dealing with his texting antics much simpler when from the comfort of your own bedroom.
Still, you play along and begin typing our your response.
You [18:12]: almost like they're hinting at something
Jeno [18:12]: i'm not too good at signals, need someone to spell it out for me hehe
Glancing back up from your phone, you catch his eyes as he does the same with a knowing grin plastered across his lips.
You [18:13]: you'd have to ask them, i don't know anything about it :p
Jeno [18:13]: okay will do, but speaking of spelling it out...you look amazing tonight
Stilling in your seat at the sudden forwardness of the message, a typing bubble pops up again just as quickly as the previous message is received.
Jeno [18:13]: like really...you looked amazing the other night at the party too. do you always look amazing or is it just when you happen to be seeing me?
Clearing your throat, you shift in your seat just slightly before reaching forward and taking the glass placed in front of you into hand in preparation for a much needed sip of water. You ignore him purposefully, but you can feel the sharp gaze of the man in question as he monitors your every move.
Jeno [18:14]: don't think i didn't notice the way you were looking at me the day we met :0
Unfortunate, but you had been a bit obvious, largely on account of not having expected being faced with seeing this man ever again. You'll have to reel it in better next time.
You glance up again, this time with intention of meeting his eyes — from across the table, Jeno sits with one corner of his lips curved upwards ever so slightly, as if knowing precisely what it is that he's doing. Not surprising, of course, he's not coming onto you now on accident — but he's never been this forward and the only thing you can really chalk it up to now is the dwindling time left on yours and the girls remaining vacation time.
As they say, 'shit or get off the pot.'
But are you interested? Frankly, you're not really sure.
Handsome? Without a doubt. Nice? Sure, seemingly so. Trustworthy? Probably enough to enjoy a night together.
However, you can't help but remain starkly aware of the still gaping whole in your heart where Jaehyun not so long ago resided.
Looking over his features again, Jeno takes another sip of his drink: messy, blonde hair, beautiful eyes, the most charming smile and all accented by that devastatingly stunning mole seated just on his cheek bone.
Yeah, maybe you are, because when you take him in as he sits before you now, just like this, enjoying each and every physically enamoring aspect of a man all the more infatuated with you, as well — you can't help but wonder...
God, how nice is your dick, then?
And just like that, is if everyone in the world having a window of insight into your mind, your phone vibrates again. Naturally, your first thought being another text from Jeno as your eyes remain glued to him, but with every round of vibration that sends through the device it quickly dawns on you that not only has he not dipped his vision back down from you to fire off another round of flirtation, but rather that the disturbance coming through is not a text message at all.
It's a phone call.
Looking down, the number isn't one that you recognize although the location code is. Eyebrows furrowing in thought and vague concern as the screen continues to illuminate in your hand, you feel the gentle tap of a foot under the table and from quite evidently — right in front of you.
Eyes now upwards again, you meet Jeno's concerned ones, but you don't have much time to quell whatever worry he may have before you're up, out of your seat, and heading outside to take the call.
Your first thought is one that sends anxiety through every nerve under your skin: family or friends in emergency, god forbid something terrible having happened, but once you reach the parking lot and are met with the cool breeze of the coast just down the way — when you answer the phone, you come to find yourself no more quelled of fears upon hearing the voice on the other end.
"Hey," the voice says, low and seemingly already defeated. "Sorry, I know you're out of town, I just wanted to talk to you."
Heart beating nearly straight through your chest and hands shaking as you strain to hold your phone to your ear, you stand in silence as your mind races with the how's and why's of what this is and could mean.
After having not received a reply for so long that you don't even notice the amount of time passed, the man on the other end speaks again.
"Hello? Are you there? It's Jaehyun, sorry, I changed numbers."
"Uh, y—yeah, I know who it is, sorry, I'm just—" you pause again to think through your words carefully, as well as garnering yourself more time in an attempt to steady the quake in your voice. "—I wasn't expecting to hear from you."
Chuckling lightly, he carries on, and just before he does you catch a glimpse of the blonde previously seated across from you at the table as he carefully exits the establishment to check on your whereabouts.
"Yeah, I know. Is it a bad time? I think you might agree that we left off on the wrong foot."
Swallowing down the lump in your throat as you quietly acknowledge Jeno's presence, you're not entirely sure where to go from here. The way that your heart thumps strongly at hearing Jaehyun's voice again is one that's hard to ignore, but the way that he broke up with you and only now is contacting you again lies equally as much on your mind.
He doesn't deserve a conversation, and especially not a second chance, but it doesn't change the fact that deep down you want to grant him both.
For better or for worse, however, now isn't a good time.
"I'm out with the girls right now but I can call you tomorrow night, when there's less going on. You know how they are, always have me up to something."
"Sure, you have the number, call me any time," he says with the most calm and nearly adoring of tones. "I miss you, have fun."
"Th—thanks," you answer slowly, and with that, the call ends.
Standing in the middle of the parking lot with Jeno only a few feet away in silence, you suppose that it's probably written all over you the sort of affect that something like this has on you. Despondent and borderline broken after having only so much as heard a few simple words from a man who despite all of his poor treatment of you still holds such a strong place in your heart...
There's no other word for it, simply put, it's pain — and soul-crushingly so.
You can hear he gravel under Jeno's shoes as he slowly approaches you, and there's a small part of you that wishes he just doesn't. Go back inside, stop pretending to care about this or us beyond just wanting a quick fuck, quit playing the nice guy.
But you know you're projecting, and you bite back the venom of your thoughts so that they don't manifest into underserved words.
"You okay?" He sheepishly asks and with concern weighing heavily on his features. You force a half-assed smile in response.
"My ex-boyfriend called," you huff out a laugh. "Broke up with me over text a bit ago, now he wants to talk. Said he misses me."
"And you're gonna tell him to go fuck himself, right?" Jeno says, and much to your surprise. Not used to such a strong response from him in regards to, well, much of anything.
Shrugging, you let out a defeated sigh. "Maybe? No? Probably not."
Silence. Then you glance back towards him.
"I love him."
"Yeah, of course you do, it's fresh," he says delicately, closing the distance between the two of you to take your wrist into one of his hands and carefully usher you back inside. "But that doesn't mean he's deserving of it."
"I know."
A small squeeze of your wrist, as if just to let you know that he's there despite your already being well aware, and looking up towards him as the two of you re-enter the building, Jeno smiles at you widely with teeth and eyes on full display in a way that sort of reminds you to just live in the moment — the here and the now — and to worry about that, whatever that is, later.
"I'm just a guy, I get it," he starts with his face leaned into the side of your head to whisper the words directly into your ear. "But sometimes accidents happen on purpose."
Turning to look at him and meeting so close to his face that it has you just about startled, you roll your eyes and snort at his attempt to bestow aged wisdom upon you in your time of need.
"That doesn't make any sense, is that your idea of giving advice?"
Slinging an arm up and around your shoulders to pull you in tighter against him, he once again brings his face to the side of your own. "Yeah, how'd I do?"
"Terrible."
"Hey, but you laughed, though."
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As it turns out, there are perks to making friends with the guy who works at the waterpark.
That is, beyond his good-looks, pleasing disposition and the fact that he tends to be quite into you, when Jeno invites you and yours back to the waterpark for some free-entry fun, the five of you can't help but take him up on the offer.
Besides, it gives you just that much more reason to have your phone out of sight and subsequently out of mind.
Rather than the typical morning arrival, however, Jeno tells you to come later in the evening on account of things tending to be more quiet. This turns out to be the case and much to all of your delight as the crowds have long since thinned out and lines to rides are much shorter than your last foray at the place of amusement. Still, it's less time to do as much as you all probably would have liked, and as the closing hours quickly approach, you and the girls make your way back to the lockers to not only collect your belongings, but once again meet with the man who brought you all there to begin with.
You come to realize that you're quite fond of how he looks fresh off of a work shift, with tousled hair and a bit of a sun-kissed glow to his skin only amplified by the glisten of water and sunscreen — when Jeno approaches the group you find that while yes, you have seen this man now numerous times before so the way that he looks is of no surprise to you, something about him like this, like right now, is different.
And as usual, when it comes to Jeno, you're the only person in the room.
One strong arm up and against the metal just like the time previously meeting like this, he all but cages you in as he leans casually against it to speak to you. "I've got to stay a bit late to do some minor maintenance in the backend, want to stay with me and we can go out afterwards or do you have somewhere to be with your friends?"
It's a lovely offer, and the idea of seeing a waterpark long past closing is an enticing one just for the thrill of it, but you're not one to pass up on dinner with the girls that brought you here for an after hours slide ride.
"We were actually about to head out to dinner, text me when you're out though and maybe we all can—"
"No. Way!"
The shrill voice comes from Ningning this time, and a bit to your surprise as it's typically either Karina or Winter with something loud and boisterous to say. Regardless, the woman comes up quickly from behind Jeno with arms crossed fiercely as if personally slighted by your unwillingness to ditch her.
"Dinner at the lil' diner down the block can wait, when the hot lifeguard asks you to stay after closing, you stay after closing."
"Ningning..." you bemoan first, only to look up at Jeno who is far too busy feigning a lack of listening in to the situation playing out right in front of him.
"Stay," she insists again, slinging a t-shirt up and over her shoulder before slowly sauntering away as if having won the war that she, herself, started. "We'll see you later—"
And just before disappearing entirely with the other women, she turns back once more with just another thing to add.
"—If you come home tonight, that is."
Jeno's work in the the back where some of the machinery is kept is quick and for that you are thankful on account of it being mind-numbingly boring watching him do anything at all that he is meant to do there. The flex of the muscles in his arms and back growing bland far sooner than you might have anticipated, you're happy to hear only twenty or so minutes in that he's finished and the two of you can carry on with your tour of the premises now that there is no one else there but the both of you.
As you walk, he tells you fun stories of silly happenings since his three years of working there has begun: tales of lost belongings on slides and peoples swim bottoms being stolen by the waves of the pools that artificially craft them, the two of you laugh into the calm, night air as you circle back around to the large river that spans nearly the entire lot of the waterpark — calm and meant mostly for simply lounging about in the sun, Jeno sits at one of the small tables offered just at the side and motions for you to sit just beside him, as well.
Still in nothing more than your swimsuit and a towel, it feels oddly comfortable. In fact, despite your checking, you haven't caught the man eyeing you down at all — not that that leads you into a false sense of believing that he simply hasn't, because frankly, you know better than that.
But at least he's willing to reign it in in the event that you could see him in the act.
And on top of that, you've been stealing glances yourself, anyway.
"Things good?" He asks, and it feels so abrupt given the timing. You know what he's referring to with eyes honed in on any possible change of your expression, but you attempt to maintain composure whilst under the proverbial microscope of his view.
"Yeah," you sigh, leaning back into your chair casually. "Everything is good. Sort of not looking forward to leaving next week."
Jeno smiles at the words. "Yeah, this town is fun, but only on vacation. I think you'd find if you lived here all year around you'd miss it back where you're from."
"Yeah, maybe."
"Just gonna have to make sure you get the best this place has to offer then," he says with a groan as he brings himself back up and to his feet. Hand extended out towards you with an offering to help you stand, you stare at him blankly for a few moments before slowly taking it and allowing yourself to be hoisted upwards. "Shall we take a swim, then?"
"Are we allowed—"
The thought suddenly cut off by the sight of Jeno reaching down and pulling off his loose, white tank top shirt. And sure, it's loose enough that you've more or less caught a glimpse of everything under there already, but not like this, not on full display.
"No, absolutely not," he laughs as he chucks it into the chair he was only just sat in. "But no one checks the cameras anyway and they already know I'm here after hours as it is so it's not going to ring any alarm bells that there's movement on site. Is that a yes?"
You pause. You need the moment to think this through, not that you even really want to. Deep down, you sort of know what this means, at least to the most basic extent, and sure — you can decline anything at any time and you're pretty certain he'll take it in stride — but still, saying yes to this is effectively saying yes to something.
"Yeah, let's take a swim."
The water feels colder now without the sun beating down on it but you come to find that the trade off is the way that the overhead lights as well as the submerged ones illuminate the water in such a beautiful way that everything glitters all around you. Following Jeno's lead as you both wade through and into one of the man-made rock sculpture caves that under typical servicing hours, lend much needed reprieve from the sunlight — now instead you feel a bit something like a character in a fantasy film: a mermaid coming back to her home as the wetness of the ocean glistens off of the barely lit walls of the faux-rock now surrounding you in hideaway.
Realistically, the scene is nothing special, but right now and with present company, your feeling of being locked away and hidden from any potential prying eyes feels especially heavy knowing precisely the thoughts that have weighed on both of your minds ever since they very first meeting here.
As silence falls between the two of you and you comfortably place yourself with your back against the smooth offering of rocks, you use it as a moment to take in the sight of him while he's not paying attention: shirtless and with flesh on full display, Jeno brings a hand up and out of the water to push his hair back and out of his face before catching hint of the fact that he has an audience, after all.
Then, he slowly closes the distance between the two of you, and with the tiniest grin of understanding perking at the corners of his lips, you suppose that there's a part of you that sort of always resigned yourself to this.
And really, what's summer vacation if not for having a summer fling?
One hand planted against the firm offering of rock on either side of you, caged in but feeling neither scared nor small on account of it, Jeno brings himself close enough to you that you have little more option that to struggle with your footing at the bottom of the pool and allow him the gentle insistence of settling between your legs.
Slowly, he dips his head down and towards you, but you pause the moment to speak in a whisper.
"You brought me here to do this, didn't you?"
To that, he only smiles again before continuing with the movement. "You came knowing that."
A gentle first kiss, perhaps much more so than you would have anticipated; rather than coming in hot and heavy from the start, the true feeling of being with and near him instead comes from the way his chest presses you tightly into place as his mouth slots firmly against your own. It's a little breathtaking, and somewhat overwhelming having been caged in like this by him, but with every forward movement of his lips and tongue against your own you can't help but feel as though the breath being pulled straight from your lungs, and with intent, at that.
The first, testing grind of his hips against you has you gasping into his mouth, and the sinister curl of his lips tells you that he couldn't be more pleased by the reaction.
One, strong hand dropping down from the rocks behind you and instead holding firm at your thigh from the underside, Jeno holds your leg up and out just enough to maintain the open space so that he has precisely the access that he desires like this, and with another slow, deliberate grind of what you know to be the solid length of himself beneath much too thin swim trunks, you can't help the way that your head lolls backwards and just about slaps into the solid structure behind you.
Pulling from your mouth as if to allow you the ability to breath, warm lips trail down your jaw line and back around to your ear, but rather than speaking anything in particular, the man simply allows you to listen to the quiet moans and exhales that drop from his lips as a result of the friction forming between the both of your bodies.
With every simulated drive of himself into you comes a breathy, needy sound fallen from his mouth. On top of that, with just the right angle, paired with just the right amount of speed and force behind his hips...
Surely you won't cum like this?
But with how heavenly he sounds against your ear and the tensing in your thighs and abdomen, you pull your bottom lip up between your teeth hard with eyes clenched shut as if not wanting to make it so evident just the effect he's having on you like this. Squirming within his grasp, and your orgasm feeling just on the cusp but ever so slightly out of your hands, you huff out with frustration and throw all caution to the wind in a desperate whirlwind of pleading events.
"Please, God, I want you," you whine against his ear. "Want to feel you."
It's a terrible idea and you know that, for a plethora of reasons. However, you're horny and on the edge of cumming and cannot possibly be concerned with any of them. You've been good enough up until now pretending to have little to no interest in his cock at all, but enough is enough, especially as it glides against you rock hard and barely clothed between your bodies.
Jeno, for better or for worse, has other plans.
"Want that too," he whispers against your ear, the hot puffs of his breath washing over the otherwise warm, wet smooth of your skin. Unfortunately, instead of freeing himself from the very same confines that plague you, he merely picks up the pace of his hips against yours.
As well as aiding with a slight shift of the angle at which he grinds against you.
Turns out, that'll do the trick.
Orgasm fast approaching now as he repeatedly presses his hips against the apex of your thighs, he continues with the original train of thought. "You ever been fucked in a body of water like this? Doesn't make for great lubrication, unfortunately—"
You can't be bothered to pay all that much attention to the science lesson, and with your hands gripping into his back and biceps as he continues hard and fast against you, you feel the distinct feeling of his teeth dragging down ever so slightly against the column of your neck in such a way that it has your head spinning and toes curling with how close to the edge you are like this.
Not for long, though, as he finishes the thought entirely. "—Want that glide to be so fucking smooth."
Frankly, you're not used to hearing him curse all that much, so when he does it's especially meaningful, so when he shoots down your begging for him to fuck you instead because he has far more delightful plans for you in the future and under more optimal circumstances, you couldn't bite back the shriek if you had tried as your orgasm tears through you with so much force that you swear you may crack a tooth with how tightly your teeth are clenched through it.
And like a good boy, Jeno 'fucks' you through it as every shockwave of release jolts through your body and your clit begs to be untouched. Releasing the grip on you, he pulls his face back around to look you in the eyes with an all-too-proud grin plastered across his lips — though, you don't get much of a chance to fight him on it as those very same ones quickly meet yours just as adoringly as the first time.
When he pulls back, he's still smiling — odd behavior for the un-orgasmed half of the equation, you think, but before speaking, the man brings a hand up to your forehead to delicately wipe away a handful of stray hairs that found their way there in all of the debauchery.
Eyes meeting, you can tell he has something to say, and that you're probably not going to like it.
"You wanted me to fuck you, and raw at that."
"Oh come on!" You groan in playful embarrassment, pushing him away from you with desperate splashes of water left in your wake as you escape. Jeno only laughs as he trails behind lazily.
"You did," he reaffirms with a teasing chuckle. "You so did."
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The following days come to pass far quicker than you had anticipated, you're soon to find.
With every day, every moment now seemingly enmeshed between the groups of friends, time with Jeno is more common than time away — no one hears about the goings on at the waterpark, at least, not on your end (and you have reason to believe that he hasn't said anything either on account of the fact that Jaemin would never shut up about it if he had) — but there's evidence enough in the distinct change of something between the two of you as the brief, casual brushing of hands slowly transforms into open and public slotting together of fingers during movie nights and not-so-concealed presses of kisses to the temple of your head at any time that Jeno seems to be able to close the distance between your bodies.
It's nice, and you can admit as much to yourself without fear or worry. The problem lies in the fact that therein resides so much more than it simply being nice now, and in fact, you're somehow managed to stumble yourself precisely in the line of fire of what it is you had sort of been hoping to avoid this entire time.
Granted, it's not necessarily worth a conversation on account of logistics and the more or less of what this is, but still, even with it only having been two weeks since you've met this guy, he reads a bit like an open book, and if there's one thing you're fairly certain you have down about him and the way his mind works, it's that he wants to have that talk, regardless of the realistic outcome.
Really, it's the least you can do on account of the whirlwind, summer romance you've happily found yourself wound up in, in spite of everything.
On the last night before you and yours leave to go back into the city, the blowout house party is at home; Ningning's summer house. An excellent decision on account of the fact that the five of you can pack up early the day before and simply wake up to leave the next day with little more to worry about than some final touches and your hangovers as a result.
Though, leaving the next day is far from what you currently wish to be attending much thought to.
With folding chairs strewn about around some of the tables in the back yard, as well as the barbecue that's fired up and attended to by Renjun, Mark and Giselle; with a red, plastic cup in hand as you sit facing out towards the crashing waves of the beach, you can't help but allow your gaze to fall to the side and onto the object of your desire that was never really supposed to end up as much more than simply the hot guy that worked at the waterpark.
Instead, you watch him as he engages in a conversation with Winter — a playful argument about which dog breeds are cutest — and it's times like this that you make a conscious effort to take mental snapshots of this moment, right here, right now. Making sure that you never forget this feeling, never forget what it was like to live in this time with the guy who sports such quintessential summer hair and reminds you of what it feels like to feel young once more, and forever.
Eyes curved into perfect, crescent shapes and a matching perfect smile as he laughs along to whatever it is that your friend is saying, suppose he must feel the heavy weight of eyes upon him as he shifts to grant you his attention once more.
There's a few seconds of silence, but you watch the way his face melts from one of joyous laughter to something that's more akin to fond adoration.
"Want to go talk?"
Jeno doesn't look all that surprised when you say the words, and instead offers you the gentlest of smiles, as if already anticipating as much, anyway.
"Sure, let's talk."
It's colder the closer the two of you get to the waves of the water, the sound of them crashing lightly against the muddy sands that lie beneath — with the sun just about set already and hues of orange with purple only barely peeking out from above the costal line — with legs dangled over the side of the small, wooden pier, Jeno slings an arm up and over your shoulders to tug you closer against himself, partially for the warmth and combatting the breeze, but really, just because he wants to have you there.
"Have fun?" He finally asks, you nod against him.
"I've kind of fallen for you a bit, ya know that?"
To this admission, Jeno reels so hard that it has you looking up at him — he looks far more shocked than you would have anticipated going into this because...obviously? And as a result, you snort out a laugh. "What? Isn't it obvious?"
"I mean—I'm just...surprised, I guess?" He admits awkwardly before settling back into place. "We're having fun and I was trying so damn hard, but I didn't think it actually worked."
"You're kinda oblivious, yeah?"
Jeno laughs. "I've heard that before, yeah."
With the words now out in the open, you allow there to be some silence between the two of you — something of a ruminating of what this is and what that means between the two of you right now, with no real need to add anything more to it in immediate time.
Instead, the two of you look out towards the water — still painted with pinks and purples as the sun sets over it for its final few minutes before nightfall.
You inhale to speak, though you're not thrilled about it despite its necessity.
"We can't...keep this going, you know," you say first, choosing words carefully as you carry out the thought. "It was fun but you know...back to real life, back to home."
Glancing up to gauge his response, Jeno only smiles as the words for a few, passing seconds before looking down at you and responding.
"Yeah, I know."
Through more silence, you think that you can feel it in his chest the way his heart beats in such a way that the sadness of the circumstances is evident. An unfortunate reality of such things: sometimes it really is wrong place, wrong time, wrong location, wrong...everything but you.
Standing again and heading back inside with fingers interlocked, you can't help but think of how the thing they never tell you about short term relationships is that they can be just as meaningful, just as impactful as long term ones. There's nothing inherently lesser, or worse, or meaningless about them — a snapshot in time where everything between you and someone else was perfect and incapable of being tarnished, at that — really, it's an ideal circumstance, especially as someone with a desire to rekindle hope in the concept of loving and being loved.
Just because a relationship ends, doesn't mean it lacks value.
And when you go back home, you'll take Jeno with you: perfect hair, perfect smile, and adorably unaware disposition all packaged up as a reminder of how good it can be to simply be.
Getting back inside, after enjoying the inviting sights and sounds of the quiet outdoors, the unrelenting boom of loud music and yelling friends pierces your ears in such a way that you can't help but attempt to curl in on yourself and escape from it. Jeno takes notice with a squeeze of your hand upon arriving to the kitchen, quickly pouring drinks for each of you and then dipping down next to your ear.
"Want to go upstairs where it's quieter?"
Yeah, of course you do. Still one last thing on the agenda for this trip, after all.
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Discarding nearly full cups and making your way up the stairs; through the hallway that's all too familiar to you by now, you can't help but call back to the last time you'd done this very same walk, with this very same man: a few key differences now compared to then that are worth taking note of, however. For one, Jeno's grip on your hand as he leads you up despite not even being entirely sure which room it is that you'd once called yours is, and two, you now find yourself far more open to any potential scenarios that may arise.
In fact, you're hoping that they do.
Swapping places and taking the lead, Jeno follows just behind you as you open the door to your bedroom — stepping inside where all of your packed bags and other such belongings not yet able to be stuffed away until the very last moment lie about on countertops or draped over chair backs — when the two of you step inside, you realize that there's a part of you that has sort of already come to this conclusion a long time ago. It's difficult to pinpoint the exact moment, and likely well enough before the late evening spent alone with him at his place of employment, rather, your memory lands at that time in the parking lot, when your ex called, and Jeno was right there to pick up the proverbial pieces of you.
It wasn't much, just that he was there. Sometimes that's enough.
Turning back to face him, it's a quick movement and so much so that the surprise of it is evident on his face with wide eyes and a late response to the feeling of your lips on his, but more than that, the sound of the door shutting behind his back and locking into place by no ones insistence but your own.
He's quick enough on the uptake, however; hands coming up to slot gently on either side of your face to pull you just that much more into the kiss — and with the length of your body pressed just as hard against him as he stands pinned between you and hard wood, the close proximity is just so giving in how you're able to catch every hitch of his breath in his throat and forced back groan in his chest.
You pull back, and with a wickedly playful grin across your face. "You've been waiting?"
To that, Jeno scoffs before bringing hands down to your shoulders and gently pushing you to step backwards towards the bed. "Only as long as you have."
The removal of clothing is quick but never quick enough despite the flurry of fabric strewn about the floor through the incessant need to kiss and be kissed by him. Rather, the two of you only part from one another if it's required to discard something that now, more than ever, is no longer desired.
The irony, of course, is in the fact that the both of you have already seen so much of what there is to be seen. Swimsuits only leaving so much to the imagination, as is the same for the pool boys usual choice of lazy attire — you come to find that when presented differently, the absence of clothing and the emergence of skin that you think you've already grown used to couldn't be further from the case. It looks different, feels different — the smooth palm of your hands sliding over arm muscles that you've already felt so many times before as his teeth catch at the bottom of your lip in a kiss that only becomes that much more heated with every passing second — the man that you've known all of the way up until now still might just have so much more still to show you.
At least, that was your impression from the waterpark festivities that evening.
Creating space between your bodies only long enough to plop yourself back and onto the mattress, Jeno wastes no time in following you as he slots himself between your legs and once again kisses you as if never able to have enough of it. One hand pressed into the mattress beside your head, the other trails down the length of your form to settle right between your legs — and now, with no barriers between you and him but his own undergarments — just one, casual dip of his middle finger shallowly between your folds is enough to have your breath hitching differently against his lips.
He grins at the reaction, but says nothing.
Instead, he dips his head down leaving a trail of kisses and nips of his teeth into the flesh of your neck, shifting his positioning back and just enough to be able to mouth over one of your nipples with a firm, swirl of his tongue. It's nice, but nothing special — at least, not before the same pad of his finger between your legs finds such light but evident purchase against your clit.
Slow, careful circles rubbed against you, back arching ever so slightly off the bed and up against his mouth as he continues teasing licks against your flesh, it's a certain kind of torment feeling so much and not enough all at once, and you can't help but consider one fact: he knows it.
You're not one to beg (well, other than that one time), and you're certainly not going to be undone so easily by a guy that for all intents and purposes you barely even know, and biting back a groan, you tightly knit your eyes shut in hopes that perhaps he's not torturing you on purpose — dragging this out because you both know it's the first and last time you'll ever get to have it — and surely he'll make quick work of you soon enough.
But the slow, down and inward press of the same finger towards your opening, only to replace the empty spot with his thumb has you thinking otherwise.
Jeno barely penetrates you with the single tip of his digit — if he does, it's so shallow that you can barely even feel it — a crime in and of itself, but amplified by the fact that you're racing towards the point of no return in what it is that you want, and if he insists on teasing you with the opportunity of being filled by him, then little does he know that he's stumbled upon the grandest of unravelings of you.
A heavy exhale, you decide you have to look down to take it all in, and especially if you're going to have a chance at saying words at any point in time. As you crack an eye open, Jeno switches breast to take your other nub between warm, wet lips — and it's then that he digs a finger into you just a bit deeper than before and all the while maintaining attention to the aching bundle of nerves held captive beneath his thumb.
Now you're frustrated, and you're not sure you can hold evidence of that back much longer.
With another heavy exhale, you attempt to bear down your hips against his hand to feel more of him, but to that, Jeno looks up to meet eyes with you wearing a look that almost tells of disapproval.
"In a hurry?"
You groan, not entirely sure if at the words or the implications behind them.
He wants to take his time.
"No, just—" you all but whimper, head thrown back against the pillow beneath it once again as if resigned to simply being along for the ride with this man. "—Kind of killing me, here."
"Why?" He questions with lips still feathering against the skin of your chest.
Then, the finger far too casually settled at your opening is slowly driven in to the last knuckle, and it feels fucking electric.
"This what you want?"
For someone who has always had a low tone of voice, you're not sure where the next few levels in drop have come from, same going for the erotic gravel that courses through his throat with every word he says against you. Either way, that in combination with the full length of his middle finger buried in your cunt already has you wondering just how it is that you're going to get through this particular night.
Guys like this are supposed to kiss you, get a blowie, maybe give you the sloppiest oral sex you've ever had (but hey, at least the effort is there), and then fuck you into the mattress for a full, mind blowing three minutes before rolling onto their backs and passing out.
So, what the fuck is this?
"Yes," you resign yourself to answering, because presumably you won't receive much else if not for your going along with it. Squirming against his hand again, you feel him pull from you ever so slightly before once again burying the hand deep against you.
Jeno hums before speaking again. "I don't think it is, but I think you're willing to settle for now."
Oh, he's so annoying when knuckle deep in pussy.
It's then that he pulls himself up and into a knelt position between your legs: not removing his hand from your pussy, but instead, bringing the other one — now freed — to the same position.
The new thumb coming down to collect the slick collecting around his finger, he brings it to your clit to focus one hand entirely on that motion, and now leaving the other to focus entirely on the place where he enters you. Now, however, with far more range of movement and ease of angle, Jeno settles into a smooth, rhythmic flick of his wrist to once again simulate fucking you the way that you really want him to.
Everything but what you actually want, and it's driving you fucking insane.
It's almost perfect, though, and that you find irritating in and of itself. Glancing up at him, Jeno's attention is spent mostly on watching you and your face, only occasionally allowing his eyes to drop down to take in the sight of the absolute mess he's making of you now.
He adds a second finger, and with it, a slightly faster rhythm.
Still trying not to sound entirely defeated and fucked out, in the absence of your moans, instead the room fills with the familiar, wet sounds of the work that he's doing on you — and upon the realization, you might have to just moan, it's less humiliating than this.
A certain curl of his fingers, however, and you don't have to weigh the pros and cons any longer as the sound is ripped from your throat whether you like it or not.
"Oh," he whispers in the event of it, as if pleased by his sudden findings. "You liked that one."
"Sh—Shut up," you barely manage out in reply before another groan falls from you, and while you're frustrated and horny, you muster up the desire you begin making requests. "Faster," you whine out, hips grinding down against his hand in hopes for more friction against your clit.
"Demanding," Jeno coos in response, though not heeding it whatsoever and much to your displeasure. Instead, you feel another shift in the mattress from his movement, and despite being somewhat terrified of the next thing that this guy could have up his sleeve for you, you look down towards him...
Only to find him settling face first with your pussy, and two fingers carefully finding their way back inside of you.
"You're lucky I'm kind of a pushover," he says with a small chuckle, and punctuating it with a long, firm lick through the slit of your pussy that has your entire body trembling with promise. "You want to cum, then I'll make you cum."
There's not much to say to that, and not that you'd be able to on account of his lips quickly attaching themselves around the very spot that craves the attention. Less than that is the amount of time that you have to think over the fact that you're not going to be able to hold out very long due to him toying with you up until this moment, either. You consider that there's always a bit of ego involves in situations such as this — not wanting to appear too eager, too interested, but you suppose it's long past that point now, anyway.
With fingers dug deep inside of you and the expertly pointed grind of his tongue against your clit — relentlessly quick and just like you'd asked of his hand only moments prior, he's definitely trying to make you cum, and he most certainly is going to get his reward, as well.
Bottom lip pulled tightly between your teeth as every muscle in your lower body tenses for the impending release; one hand gripped into the sheets just below and the other coming up to find purchase in the bleached blonde hair that you've grown so fond of after such a short time — you're not able to say much as it feels as though every breath is being sucked out of you by the man as he teeters you on the edge one last time before pushing you over it — instead, you're somewhat displeased by how easy it is to say his name in little more than an airy chant; over, and over, and over again as he finally topples you over into orgasmic release and with a rush hitting so hard and so fast that any sound that once would have escaped from you is instead replaced with a silent shriek of nothingness as a result of your dry, spent throat.
You need a moment before anything else happens — many moments, in fact — of heavy breaths and a heaving chest as you attempt to collect yourself in the aftermath of it all, and there's a split second where the thought crosses your mind that if this was all that would amount from your night together with him, that might actually be good enough.
Still plenty of time left in the evening, however.
Finally, you pull in a full breath of fresh air before looking back down towards Jeno: face cradled in one hand and gazing at you with nothing but proud adoration in his eyes, you're annoyed but not enough to ignore the disheveled mess of hair atop his head, as well as the wet glisten of you that's still happily sported along his chin.
"Good?"
He's so annoying.
You roll your eyes. "Yes, you like being praised or something?"
"Doesn't everyone?" He playfully responds, once again dragging a finger through the prominent wetness of your folds. "Look how wet you are, so good for me."
You know he's toying with you, not meaning anything in particular by it, but you're not proud of how evidently correct he is, either. Regardless, he changes the subject fairly quickly beyond it.
"Are you down and out for the night already?" Jeno chuckles, pulling himself up and into a kneeling position once again and if anticipating the fact that you'll tell him you're not.
It's only then that you finally get a real, good look at the lining of what lies hidden beneath the last remaining black garment on him.
Not done, not even close.
Sitting up only long enough to grab an arm and pull him back down with you, Jeno catches himself with both palms splayed out on the mattress as you pull him into a kiss once again. This time is different, however. Beyond the taste of yourself so evident on his mouth, he kisses you in a way that's far needier, less held back than all of the other times before. Always wanted you, and probably painfully so, but not enough to ever put that above anything else at hand.
But, suppose it's his turn now.
Hand dipping down between both of your bodies and wasting no time slipping into the black fabric to feel him, your fingers wrap around the smooth flesh of his cock in such a way that already has him sighing into your mouth — it's sort of addicting, the way he sounds and feels and looks like this, at the mercy of you and only ever really wanting you since the moment he laid eyes — in ways, it's a job well done, and now he shall receive his prize.
Though, you're not even really sure which one of you is winning, now.
It's difficult to get a feel for metrics just by touch — but thick and plenty long enough come to mind in a way that's far too dizzying to spend too much time thinking about. You give him a few lazy tugs before Jeno pulls up and away from you entirely to hang over the edge of the bed and fish out the most obvious thing from his pants pocket.
"Came prepared," you casually comment, and when he comes back up with the package in hand, he only sighs in relief.
"Not a chance I was going to fuck this up by not thinking ahead," Jeno responds firstly, finally shuffling the fabric at his hips down and revealing the full sight of himself to you. "Though, you'd let me hit without it anyway, I guess."
"Oh my God!" You whine in embarrassment, reaching up to playfully slap his arm as he rolls the condom along himself. "Moment of weakness, I would have come to my senses."
Settling back down lengthwise against your body, Jeno kisses you hard once more as you feel the distinct wrapping around your thigh of an arm that intends to have you fully splayed open for him. Once finished there, the same hand comes between you — dragging the wide, length of his cock through your wetness before even attempting to push inside.
It's similarly torturous to before, however, and your squirming beneath his body is evidence of it enough.
Forearm holding his body weight, Jeno shifts his hand upwards so that he can touch your face as he continues to bring you to madness — soft kisses peppering not only your lips but your jaw, cheeks, and even falling down onto your neck — you can't tell if he's doing it purposefully in hopes that you'll beg, or if he truly has no idea just what it is that he's doing.
You believe it to be the former, though.
Regardless, he's a man worn thin of patience himself, and your requests are not needed to feel the incredibly present stretch of him entering you.
Embarrassingly slick for him and well prepared, you're reminded of the comment he made back the last time you two shared a moment such as this — how he wanted it to be different, right, in some ways, and as the feeling of him pushing to fill you to the brim brings you to nearly dizzying new heights — with fingers gripped into the skin of his back and shoulders and teeth gritted, you can kind of see why.
You don't want to say his cock is perfect, but it's pretty fucking good.
Once fully seated inside of you, Jeno brings that hand back to your thigh to pull it wide and away. Rather than moving right away, he allows you some time to get used to him — no stranger to a big dick, but a wide one certainly tends to take a second each and every time. In the meantime; lips trailing down your neck, sucking and biting into the skin as you try to bite back the whimpers that threaten you already — unfortunately, you're soon to find this man to be no such help in you maintaining your composure.
Stray fingers curled into your hair — not to pull or cause pain, nothing more than simply holding you there — you become starkly aware of how consumed you are by him now, and with hot breath cascading across your ear and cheeks, you're once again faced with that same low, gravely tone of voice from earlier that had you coming nearly undone in the palm of his hand.
"How do you like it?"
Barely coherent enough to register the question, you feel the shiver the words send down your body as a result of it, all the same — as if somewhere in your subconscious well aware of the implications long before your present and aware mind capable.
Before you can answer, however, his voice drops lower and down into a whisper against the shell of your ear. "How do you want me to fuck you?"
Another chill, and with it paired with one shallow drive of himself against you.
"Been dying to feel you cum around my cock, so please," he says, and this time with desperate emphasis coloring the plea at the end.
"Tell me how you want to be fucked."
The shivers subsequently pooling right between your legs and at the very spot where Jeno enters you — you know well enough that he can feel the way your cunt clenches down hard around the thick of him with every pointed, filthy word that drops from his lips. More than that, however, is the way your fingernails dig that much harder into his flesh at the promise of finally receiving precisely what it is that you want from him.
To be fucked stupid, and borderline incoherent.
He doesn't wait for an answer from you before beginning a calm, steady rhythm against you, though. Smart enough to know that regardless of your answer, you both do require friction from this sort of engagement — rather, just like the time before it's the particular way his breath hitches and he softly groans into your ear with every tight, wet hug of your pussy against his thrusts that is quite possibly doing you in more than the actual action itself is.
No matter, though, because your mind is made up.
"Harder," you whimper out for him with hips pushing up to meet his actions. "Fuck me harder, deeper—"
His next drive into you has your entire body moving up the length of the bed, as well as any further words or thoughts lost somewhere in the mix between.
The next shift in positioning is quick, so much so that it has your head spinning ever so slightly as you feel him bring his torso off of your own to prop himself up and over you once more — it's better leverage for harder thrusts, and even more is the capturing of one of your stray wrists in hand just before settling himself in place. Effectively pinned beneath him, there's a brief moment where he stills — flashes you a look to check in and make sure you're not displeased with the new development, because there's always a bit of growing pains in an attempt to take the lead, be sexy, and more than that, not overstep any boundaries.
But really, you know he just wants to do whatever it takes to make you cum as hard as possible, and it's a commendable effort, that much is for sure.
Two, three hard drives into you with your wrist pinned just next to your head and you're all but crying out for him. Figure, that's probably motivation enough.
Jeno continues to fuck you hard, but not especially fast as every drive of his length into you is deliberate, pointed, and angled perfectly to find and continue to rub against that particular spot that has you tensing and shaking beneath him. Watching him from this angle above you; muscles firm and flexed with every calculated thrust, mouth only slightly hung ajar as eyes that now remain nearly glued to the place that the thickness of his cock disappears inside of you with slickened ease — it's hard to imagine that you ever considered not allowing yourself this moment in time, because God, he's going to get precisely what he set out for.
Glancing up from that place, Jeno's eyes meet your own before clenching shut tightly to take in the feeling of you. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good."
He was right, the praise thing is pretty fucking excellent. Might as well pay it back.
Bearing down to meet one of his thrusts, you whine out for him in response. "Feel so good," you start before another hard pound of his hips against your own interrupts the thought. "F—Feel so big."
With that, you feel his hips falter ever so slightly, paired with a light chuckle falling from his lips.
"Don't say that," he says in a laugh. "Talk about how big it is and I'll cum in two second flat."
This knowledge piques your interest, hand that remains unpinned coming up to lightly cradle his face. "That's what does it for you, huh? Like hearing about how big your cock is? How full I feel when—"
"I'm serious!" Jeno then gasps suddenly, stilling his motions between your legs altogether and laughing all the while. "I'm not joking, I will cum right now if you keep it up, no one wants that."
You laugh to match him. "Okay, okay! I didn't realize it was that bad..."
Dipping down again, Jeno kisses you hard and firm on the mouth before pulling back up and delivering a single, hard drive of himself into you. "It's bad, and if I cum before you do I'm going to put my fucking head in the blender, so may I?"
"By all means."
It's out of scene and not a particularly sexy conversation, but it is one that reminds you of all of the things that you seem to adore about the man. Someone who can be everything and at a moments notice: caring, funny, sexy, good in bed, bad in bed should the moment fit — it serves as all the more reason that you're thankful for your making of the decision to go through with this, after all. Not just for the sex, because sex can be found anywhere — but rather, because of this particular moment right here and now, shared with this particular man.
And that, you can't find just anywhere.
Jeno wastes no time settling back into things as he fucks into you hard once again, but also faster than previously. There's something about the new angle that he's settled himself in — a perfect lean of his torso over yours that has the shaft of his cock rubbing perfectly against your clit in such a way that has your body tensing and nerves firing with each and every thrust of himself into your cunt. This time, over the sounds of wet and skin meeting, instead it's you that's heard in particular over everything else — with no way or ability to bring yourself back down from the impending doom of the orgasm that's now threatening to rip through you at a moments notice.
Of course, Jeno notices, and probably feels as much with how tightly wrapped around his cock you are — and if he's close to cumming himself, you can't tell through his composure as his steady hips never once falter through the loud whines and whimpers that fall from you on account of him.
"Close?" He asks, well aware of the way you fall apart beneath him and with no other interest than you get you precisely there.
You nod quickly. "Harder, harder, fuck—"
And you don't have to ask twice as Jeno once again settles into a different position — unpinning your wrist and instead bringing both of his large, strong hands down to clasp onto the dip of your hips for leverage — instead now he holds the ability to not only fuck up into you, but also pull you down onto his cock, and in even quicker, harder succession.
You sort of wish you could have enjoyed the feeling of him like this just a bit more — the full, thick pull of his cock against your walls with every fluid drag of himself against you — but instead, Jeno is only granted a handful more drives of himself into you like this before you're crying out and cumming hard around him in electric pulses and waves of clenches down around his length.
Reduced to nearly whining, Jeno doesn't stop his relentless force into you in chase of his own release now that his job here is done, and rather, you're not quite satisfied with the impending end of this scenario just yet, either.
"Cum, baby," you whisper out to him, and you're certain that you can see the way the pet name all but deep fries his brain in real time with the clench of his facial features upon hearing it. "Want you to cum on me, wanna see it."
Another shockwave to an already far too aroused mans brain, he attempts to shake it off long enough to focus back on the task at hand but shortly thereafter realizes that there isn't much left to focus on. Four or five more hard thrusts into your cunt, Jeno quickly withdraws from you — peeling the condom from his glistening wet length and swiftly palming over himself in quick succession to bring himself the rest of the way there over your messy, exposed pussy and stomach.
But really, you just want to watch him stroke it.
A beautiful sight: a man desperate and on the verge of orgasm, fast at hand to bring himself over the edge, the muscles in Jeno's abdomen tense as he teeters on the edge of release for your viewing pleasure, and as his breaths begin to hitch in his throat only to be replaced by short, pained whimpers, you deliver the killing blow for him.
"So big, cum for me baby—"
Granted, you hadn't planned much of a script in your head past that point, but it would go unneeded anyway as you watch Jeno's fist stutter to a halt halfway down the shaft of his cock before emptying his load atop the already messy pool of wetness gathered at your spread open folds.
And perhaps nothing better than the loud, anguished groan of his release as he slowly finishes stroking himself over your cunt and to completion.
Kinda defeats the purpose of condoms but the two of you will have to take that up with the health clinic another day.
Slumping down and onto his back next to you, both with quickly rising and falling chests in an attempt to breath air that brings something other than the scent of sex, Jeno is the first to lean into you to press a kiss to your temple, just like so many times before.
"Good?" He asks.
You hum coyly before shrugging. "It'll do, I guess."
"Nice, that's what I am for. Have all the ladies in town like 'eh, it was this or reruns of Friends."
Smiling, you inhale deeply with thoughts of this. All of this, and just how nice it is. You wonder briefly if this is a life you could see yourself getting used to — being had and held by the man lying next to you — before the stark reminder of it not even so much as being an option settles in once more.
Short term relationships are valid, and giving — and you couldn't possibly end this one off on a better note.
Take it for what it is.
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Waking together in the morning is as nice as the night before, albeit far less involved. Even through the entanglements of limbs and an incredibly pointed lack of clothing on either of you, you're the first to stir with Jeno still lying beside you, although quickly met by the man to have gentle pecks and other such trinkets of adoration bestowed upon you in what is now your final couple of hours left together.
In the shower, there's a moment that you think maybe it can be done after all, and as Jeno stands with toothbrush in hand and mouth full, when you dip your head out to make a mention of the prospect to him, once your eyes meet you can't help but cower back behind the stained glass from which you had come.
Don't ruin this, just let it be.
With bags lazily packed and messily stuffed into the car, the friend groups say their goodbyes at around noon, and with the way that some of them go, you think that you and Jeno far from the only two who consummate their relationship on the final night.
It's sort of sad, in a way, but you suppose you're glad you're not alone in feeling this way.
Turning to face Jeno one, final time — eye smile and freckle that you've grown so fond of — his hands come up to cradle the sides of your face before pulling you into a tender kiss for the final time, his eyes never leaving yours in the pull back even for a second.
Hands dropping to pinky fingers on each hand interlocked as you begin to make your way to the vehicle, you're thankful at least that Jeno have the ability to maintain a strong facade in the aftermath of all of this because frankly, you're not so sure how well you're going to fair once it's all said and done.
There's a pause with arms extended as you open the car door, the link between you and him now stretched nearly as far as it can be held by a mere two fingers — all the while, his gaze never falls from you.
And neither does his smile.
"Safe drive."
Two unreasonably gut-wrenching words.
"We will."
And just like that, you're off.
Arm propped up on the side of the door, the inside of the car is dead silent. You know why. Everyone knows why. No one really wants to talk about it.
Then, your phone buzzes.
Digging it from your bag, you're not entirely sure what to expect, though you're hoping not to find one thing in particular. Instead, you're pleasantly surprised by the name that flashes up on the screen.
Well, suppose that's a bit of an understatement.
Jeno ♡♡ [12:22]: so, what are your plans for winter vacation, anyway?
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♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask.
—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2 (probably)
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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 5 months
Text
(to the tune of Avril Lavigne's sk8terboi)
He was a human battering ram.
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She was a recon sniper.
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Can I make it any more obvious?
Headcannons - Fit for a King - König x fem!OC fanfic
Instead of making a y/n fic, I decided to create an original female character because I ususally write all of my stuff in POVs. Due to posting the chapters often right after I've written them some of the context and the characterization might not be explicit in every single piece, some of the information is only gonna get revealed down the road.
(TW: alcoholism, death, violence)
Karina Müller is almost 30 years old, she served in the Norwegian military from right after school until the death of her brother who was KIA on a mission together. She fell off the wagon after that, feeling responsible for his death and effectively being shunned by her family after that. Her pick of poison was alcohol and it got so bad that she more than once was drunk on the job which led to her getting kicked out.
The years after that she spent getting help, trying to get clean and going back to a civilian life, but the military was what she knew, so the civilian jobs didn't stick and she started to work as a mercenary, now a dry alcoholic. Which might be an issue for some contractors, but KorTac doesn't really bat an eye.
She's a compassionate person who loves to laugh, she's seen enough shit not to take any from her teammates and can stand her ground when faced with any challenge thrown her way. She's still working through some stuff, coming to terms with her past, but she has an optimistic spirit and a strong will.
Even though the Colonel seems scary at first, she learns pretty quickly that he is to be respected in training and on the battlefield, but on a personal level he's really not that bad. The 6'10'' killing machine, Austrian war criminal (insert "what murdeeer?!"-meme here) is quite an anxious person when it comes to basic human interaction.
Shouting orders at his team, stomping his enemies into the ground is more comfortable to him than just talking about mundane stuff with other people, he mostly keeps to himself (except for Horangi because that little shit would never leave him alone). And for the first time in a long time, Müller makes him wish that he could just go up to people and strike up a normal conversation like a normal person (don't we all).
König is 38 years old (we don't know his full name) and has the biggest metalhead dad vibes without actually having any children himself (his favourite band is Death, although he listens to a bunch of different ones, it's also their merch shirt Müller steals in "Are you wearing my t-shirt?").
When he started out in the military, he shaved his long metalhead hair off because that was the way to go back then, but he let it grow back when he was older and already Colonel. He has gauged ears and a plethora of tattoos all over his body because the soft pain of body modifications and working out until he almost passes out are his ways of dealing with his anxiety and stress. His body is a testament to that.
He has a huge scar on the right side of his face from when he got beaten to a pulp by his bullies at school, something he never let happen again after that (five on one was really unfair). His nose has been broken two times and sometimes his tattoos get destroyed by battle injuries, but he doesn't really care about that - or his looks in general. He's a soldier and not a model.
So the reason why he's always wearing the selfmade hood is not the scar. He prefers not to show his feelings to others, staying hidden underneath the mask for his own comfort, even if it makes him scarier also in situations where he doesn't want to be.
(CW: some nsfw headcannons ahead, talk about not wanting to have children) They're both switches, though König is leaning more on the Dom-side while Müller is a sub who likes to brat a little too much, just to see her man falter (for example when she calls him a good boy in random scene #1).
Müller is bisexual, something she discovered when serving in an all-women-taskforce of the Norwegian military (we don't really know about König's sexuality though). She decided a long time ago that she doesn't want to have children (she doesn't see herself leaving service again anytime soon and given her past, she doesn't see herself fit to become a mother), so she got her tubes tied. Which also comes in handy when a certain Colonel's favourite pasttime (well, actually second favourite) is leaving creampies inside her (no 'unexpected pregnancy' trope in this household).
König definitely eats pussy for his own pleasure, begging Müller to let him eat her out in "Sit" or losing a little friendly competition for a sexual favour in "But no funny business" (oh and he definitely steals her panties at any chance he gets). She's totally not opposed to servicing him as well, but the size of his dick makes this a whole endeavour (like seen in "Open wide, Prinzessin").
They match each other's energy pretty well, just going at it like rabbits at every chance they get, which sometimes proves to be difficult as they're sneaking around in secret.
Their arrangement is kind of a fuckbuddy/fwb-situation, they fuck hard and rough, without ever really kissing (the mask stays on), but after a while feelings start to get in the way... After all they do belong together <3
Read more at the Fit for a King - Masterlist or keep an eye out for the AO3 link - coming soon.
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kimberly-spirits13 · 11 months
Text
How You Earned the Respect of the Batfam as Tim’s S/O
Basically headcannons on how the Batfam came to like you
Tim:
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• He always thought that you were kind and intelligent
• You knew your worth and wouldn’t take less
• He had dated some not so nice people in the past and seeing you really raised his standards
• You weren’t friends with him because of his money whether your family had it or not
• You weren’t in it for the fame or the attention and you were understanding of him
• He felt comfortable around you like he could be himself 100% without judgement
• You were a vigilante that hadn’t interacted with the Batfam expect for Tim
• You had come from an intense assassin training, similar to Bruce’s but had escaped when you decided that everything was just messed up
• You went to Gotham and used the powers you had to manipulate officials around you that you had parents and weren’t just living willy nilly by yourself
• That’s when you enrolled in school and met Tim and you guys hit it off quick
• Tim appreciated that he could text or call you at any time and you wouldn’t complain or make him feel bad
• It didn’t take long for you to find out that he was Red Robin
• No one on earth texts you at 2am on the same block every night for weeks on end
• He felt like there wasn’t anyone who would ever be there for him like you
• Tim liked that he had the ultimate companion during patrols, even if you hadn’t been revealed to the rest of his family
• You’re skilled and he doesn’t have to worry about you getting hurt during patrol or missions
Dick:
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• The first time that you two met was when you rushed Tim to the cave because he had gotten badly injured on patrol
• Tim had gotten shot and broken a few ribs and you hauled it to the cave
• Tim wasn’t really conscious during the ride and wasn’t aware that you knew where the cave was/ the entrances
• Everyone was immediately on high alert when some stranger arrived with a near dead Tim
• Dick knew he liked you when you pulled in, rushing Tim into the med bay
• He saw you holding his hand and wiping his hair out of his face while the bullet was pulled from him
• While Tim was waking up from surgery, you didn’t leave his side and continued to hold his hand
• Dick’s heart was melted- one because his brother had a close call, and two because someone was really, really caring for him
• He had seen Tim’s exes and hated them, but he knew that you were different
• You were easy to talk to and respectful to everyone
• You had an agreeable personality and really seemed to care for Tim
• When Tim woke up, he saw how Tim immediately squeezed your hand to make sure that you were there
• After spending time with you that night, seeing how you took care of Tim, and how Tim interacted with you, Dick knew he liked you
Bruce:
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• Bruce saw you coming into the cave like a bat out of hell with Tim and was immediately on guard
• How does this random person know Tim’s secret identity, how do they know where the cave is, WHAT’S WRONG WITH TIMMY MY SWEET CHILD
• After the rush of getting Tim’s situation under control, he also noticed that you never left Tim’s side
• So he knew that you two were in a committed relationship, however, that didn’t mean that he trusted you
• Bruce is a hard case to crack, it really takes some time for him to warm up to anyone
• It was probably a few months into you and Tim hanging out around the manor when you attended a gala with Tim that he really started to trust and or likely you
• Tim was really stressed and didn’t really want to be at the gala
• You were with him the entire time and didn’t leave, even when the paparazzi and media were all being rude
• It’s a very normal thing that the tabloids exploit anything that happens in the Wayne family and you were like fresh blood
• You were poised, collected, calm, and totally indifferent to the comments
• He knew that Tim hated the media and seeing you calm him down and pull him away from some non obligatory meeting with idiots made him feel like he could trust you with Tim
• Not that he’ll admit it
• He notices that whenever you’re around, it seems like Tim has a weight lifted off his shoulders
Alfred:
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• He was the one that helped extract the bullet from Tim’s abdomen so he met you along with everyone else
• I’m sure he knew that Tim was dating someone, but this was the first time he had met that person
• Alfred is a very kind and respectful man
• If he really doesn’t like a person, they know it
• However, if he doesn’t yet know, he treats them formally and without a personal relationship aspect
• He knew that he really liked you when one night, during a busy week of extra crime, you had hauled Tim into bed, forcing him to sleep and shut away his electronics
• Alfred was behind on some housework because of the hectic monitoring schedule and went to bed early
• You stayed up and did the rest of the chores he needed to have completed
• You had always helped out in little ways like cleaning up after yourself (the boys are incapable sometimes lemme tell you, you’re a blessing simply for being normal), you’d make Tim clean his room, and you’d make sure that everything was better than how you found it
• He was so grateful that you had taken time out of rest and decided to help him during a time of need
• It was something very genuine to him since most of the people that the batfam bring home wouldn’t do something like that either out of fear of messing up or indifference
Jason:
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• Jay really wasn’t that difficult to crack
• I mean he’s got a rough exterior but ultimately, he just wants to see Timmy happy
• He knows about Tim’s exes and hates every one of them
• Makes sure that you’re not going to blindside anyone with something you have hidden
• Now what really, really gets him to like you personally was when you had come into the cave with a menagerie of weapons to have cleaned, polished, or sharpened
• Tim was sitting at the computer doing work and you were working on everything else
• He didn’t realize that you were really serious about the vigilante life until he saw you hauling all that mess in
• He realized that you came from a tough background and had grown up and out of it
• These things that happened to you didn’t define who you were and he liked that about you since he had a struggle with that- basically he lives vicariously through you at times
• When he sat down next to you with his gun collection to clean and polish, you struck up conversations on Jane Austen, weapons, crazy childhoods, pop culture classics, and random assassinations that ended up being one of you
• He just thinks that you’re cool and chill and that’s good enough for him
Damian:
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• Also wasn’t really that hard to break
• I mean you were known as the greatest child assassin and he looked up to you when he was little
• Concerning but that’s how it is
• He recognized you immediately and kept a distance
• Star struck Damian Wayne
• Questions how Tim was dating you
• He knew that he really liked you when his pets liked you
• It’s cliché, but the quickest way to Damian Wayne’s cold little heart is through animals
• You helped him train and walk Titus
• Pennyworth liked to sit on your shoulder and survey the house as you walked around
• Damian was the only other person whom Pennyworth would do this with
• Damian was just bamboozled
He also likes that you’re not some mindless idiot
• Most of the socialites that he has to hang out with are zombies who feed off of dollar bills and designer drugs
Cass:
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• Is very, very protective of her family
• She is not one for outsiders and makes sure to know all the weaknesses of new people
• The problem is that she’s having trouble finding your weaknesses
• Tim is obviously one of them, but your stance, your fighting, your regular self just seems indestructible
• She knew personally that this came with tons of training and discipline
• Cass really starts to like you when you notice that she’s not really verbal
• You knew sign language and immediately just start signing to her instead of talking
• Cass really appreciated that you were comfortable getting on her level without second thought
• You watch out for everyone in the family and she feels like she’s not alone in her worries
• You’re basically like a new sibling for her
• You and Cass have a tight bond, the kind of relationship that if you and Tim broke up, you’d still be besties
• She knows that you’re reliable and will never try and use her
• That’s all she wants
Stephanie:
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• I think Steph would be easy to get along with
• Like you really gotta suck for her to not like you
• Steph really likes that you’re a relatable person
• You don’t act like you have a stick stuck up your butt and you’re not dramatically brooding at everything
• Steph really started to like you when one night the two of you stayed up after everyone went to sleep
• You two talked about life over some homemade cookies
• You two talked about your favorite celebrities, movies, pet peeves, tv shows, the reality tv show drama, and anything that you could think of
• Now you’re somehow besties with all of the Wayne girls and it’s great
• She also likes that you can lovingly boss Tim around
• There aren’t many that can do that and it’s pretty apparent
Babs:
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• Alfred was out of town the day that she started to really, really take a liking towards you
• She was always a cynic for some part, but she started to casually warm up to you
• Saw you as Tim’s s/o and not really a friend
• This was until you noticed that she looked really stressed managing the surveillance by herself without the help of Alfred
• You stayed behind for the time that Alfred was gone and helped her run everything
• She was worried at first since she wasn’t sure that you’d be good at computers
• You really happened to impress her though and that won her over
• You were easy to talk to and it also wasn’t awkward when there was just silence and nothing to talk about
• Babs thinks she felt her heart patter when you very sternly talked Jason down from throwing Damian off a building (regular occurrence)
• “JASON PETER TODD IF YOU DON’T PUT THAT CHILD DOWN AT ONCE I WILL PERSONALLY HAUL YOUR ASS TO THE BANK BUILDING AND CATAPULT YOU ACROSS GOTHAM, DO YOU UNDERSTAND”
• She was like 😏
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sunkeji · 6 months
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Talking weasel and Hench-human
a/n: Because i miss my cats 😔💔
sypnosis: Some daily interactions between you and Grim, platonic of course. This feels like a found family situation, very familial love.
credits: divider by @/kiyaedits
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Since you still lack money to refurbish Ramshackle, you and Grim sleep in the same bed. You get 30% of the bed space, and the rest is for Grim. On rare occasions, when it gets super warm, Grim will sleep on your face because he claims it feels cooler, while you're having difficulty breathing underneath him. Ace gets the opportunity to see you with new, weird bed hair each day, and he gets a kick out of it.
When you buy groceries and cook in Ramshackle, Grim is either hovering around and pestering you, telling you he's hungry, or he's on the floor tugging at your pants, asking you when the food will be ready. If you're eating at the cafeteria, you have to eat fast; otherwise, Grim will be gobbling down your food too. Jack always reminds you to eat slower in fear of choking. (You do quite often, sadly.)
You're having class together? Grim is sitting on your lap, and he keeps getting distracted. It's like having a kid with ADHD, except it's a talking cat who resorts to setting fires too easily. Oftentimes, your pocket money goes to fixing whatever Grim has broken, and when you scold him for it, he gets upset and sulks for a bit. He hates it when you scold him because, although he never says it, he actually loves you a lot. It's up to Jack or Epel to find him and attempt to cheer him up, so you won't worry about him anymore.
All in all, the two of you love each other in a familial manner, and if you ever leave NRC, Grim would be absolutely heartbroken and inconsolable. No amount of tuna could ever make him stop crying or thinking about you, and he won't ever be his cheery, carefree self as long as you're not with him. (He needs his emotional support Hench-human)
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theogonies · 1 year
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SWEET DESIRE: genshin boys & their kinks
characters: childe, xiao, diluc, & ayato
word count: 1.4k
content warnings: feminine pet names and references to female genitalia; they’re all possessive, just in different ways; breeding kink, corruption kink, mindbreaking/dumbification, overstimulation, semi-public sex, implied dacryphilia (childe); voyeurism and general perviness, somnophilia, implied corruption kink (xiao); overstimulation, restraints, marking, spanking, yandere behavior (diluc); dom/sub relationship, brat taming, dacryphilia, degradation, humiliation, edging, painplay/spanking (ayato); 18+; minors and ageless blogs do not interact
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CHILDE
“What’s wrong, ptichka?” He leans down to lap the tears from your cheeks with a smile as condescending as it is kind. “I thought you were ready for this, but we’re only getting started.”
Is it really any wonder that this man has a breeding kink? He’s a family man, after all, and beneath all his bluster, there’s really nothing he wants more than a happy little family of his own to come home to. While he rationally knows that may be out of the picture for as long as he’s a Harbinger, he still can’t help but lose his mind a little at the sight of his come overflowing from your hole. Even better if he gets to fuck it back into you with his fingers to make sure you don’t lose a single drop, humming sweet praises all the while: you're being so good for me, babygirl. Gonna make you a mommy.
Speaking of fingers–Childe is good with his hands. When he really wants to tease you he’ll watch you struggle to drag his gloves off with nothing but your teeth, just so he can use those very hands to fuck into your mouth until you’re a drooling mess, begging for his fingers in your pussy instead. Maybe if he’s feeling nice, he’ll even reward you for your efforts.
He loooooves corrupting good girls. Girls who follow the rules, girls who put responsibility first, girls who take care of everyone else before themselves. He’ll tease you, give you just enough to get your hopes up before backing off and making you plead for his attention. Don’t worry; he won’t break you, at least not on purpose. He just wants to teach you how good it feels to allow yourself to let go and relish in all those dirty, greedy little impulses, the desires that only he can fulfill.
Childe likes it when his partners are vocal during sex, and he’s willing to put in the work to make that happen. He’s a bit of an exhibitionist in general–just another way of making sure there are no doubts in anyone’s minds who you belong to–but it doesn’t matter if you’re in the middle of the Fatui headquarters or some isolated cabin in the mountains, he makes a game out of overstimulating you until you’re a broken, whimpering mess crying his name.
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XIAO
“Please–” You can always tell when he’s about to break. He begs so sweetly, his stubborn scowl fading into something soft and needy. “Say it again. Tell me I’m good.”
 It shouldn’t come as any kind of surprise that Xiao is a virgin. He’s so afraid of becoming close to others, yet more and more he finds his mind drifting to all those lewd, forbidden places when he’s around you. It’s obvious, too, the way he stares when you bend over to pick something up or the neckline of your shirt dips a little too low; but all the embarrassment and guilt in the world aren’t enough to make him hold back his voyeuristic impulses.
And oh, the moment you realize what’s going on and decide to indulge him, it’s over for Xiao. He’s obsessed with the way you tease him, your hands brushing against his thigh, or lightly steering him by the small of his back, all while you give him that same, trusting smile as always. This is just what friends do, isn’t it?
It takes a long time before he’s able to build up enough trust to let you touch him, but he loves watching you touch yourself. The way your hands, the same ones that have touched him so innocently so many times before, flick at your puffy clit; all those dirty sounds that fill the air; the blissed-out look on your pretty little face when you finally unravel. Witnessing you, being wanted by you–it’s already so much more than Xiao thinks he deserves.
The only think he loves more than feeling like your loyal guardian as you slumber is fucking you when you’re asleep. Sometimes because you’re having a bad dream; sometimes because he just can’t help himself, not when you’re lying so innocently beside him, filling his mind with impure thoughts.
Even at his brattiest, he always, always, always asks permission before coming. Inside of you, on you, even into his own hand. It’s as much about consent for him as it is getting confirmation from you that he’s earned this.
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DILUC
“That’s right, precious,” he murmurs, his sonorous voice so unusually soft that you can’t help but shiver from words alone. “Just sit still and let me take care of you.”
Diluc loves giving oral, and he’s a messy eater, too. It’s like your sweet pussy is an aphrodisiac to him; he loses track of time, swirling his tongue around your tender bud and drinking in your taste until he’s left you overstimulated without even trying. He feels genuinely bad about it, too, every time he realizes just how greedy he’s been, how long he’s made you beg and cry for relief–but it’s not enough to keep him from forgetting himself again the next time he goes down on you.
He’s a very giving lover in general; really, he just wants to make you feel good. And, well, the beautiful sight of your tight little pussy creaming around his cock–that’s just a sweet side effect.
It takes a long time to get him to admit to his more taboo desires, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have them. Most of all, he dreams of seeing you strung up; from the frame of his bed in the winery, or even more shamefully, from the rafters of his tavern (long after close, of course–no one else deserves to see something so beautiful). As much as he consciously respects your freedom and independence, there’s a dark part of him that wants to keep you safe and protected, somewhere only he can reach you.
He likes seeing his marks on your skin, too. Hickeys, mostly, but he’s not entirely above punishing you more thoroughly if he decides you’ve been a little too flirty with his patrons or too risky in your adventures. He apologizes every time his hand comes down on your ass, and yet he can’t hide how hard the sight of your soft and rippling skin makes him when it flushes and begins to bruise.
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AYATO
“I’m sorry, doll, but you know the rules.” His lip trail gently across the marks left by his own hand only moments ago, reminding you that your master is just as forgiving as he is merciless. “Now, are you ready to be a good girl and do as you’re told?”
Do I even need to say that Ayato is a mean dom? He loves the thrill of the chase, learning exactly what makes his partner tick just so he can break them down. The worst part is how composed he remains through it all, like his twisted desire to see you squirm is just another of his odd little jokes.
His technique in bed is no less refined than his skill with a sword, either; he’s mastered the delicate art of pushing your limits without breaking them, testing your devotion to him with every slap and caress until you’re putty in his hands.
While Ayato demands absolute loyalty from his partners from the start, he doesn’t mind putting in the work to tame bratty subs; in fact, he likes it better that way. The more headstrong and stubborn you are, the easier it is for him to ensure that you’re all his by the time he’s finished molding you into the perfect toy.
He isn’t opposed to using pain as a punishment, but in most cases, he prefers withholding what he knows you want. He’ll edge you until you’re a sobbing wreck, begging for his cock; and as much as he knows he should hate to see you suffer like this, nothing makes him as hard as the sight of your pretty little face streaming with tears. Before he gives you your sweet release, he makes you beg for it, promising him you’ll be good from now on, that you’ve learned your place as his dumb little whore.
Ayato loves putting you in all kinds of degrading positions: cockwarming him in his office, touching yourself while he watches, humping the smooth leather of his shoes as you beg him to touch you properly. He likes knowing he’s the only one with the privilege of seeing you this way: flushed, humiliated, needy. His.
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