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autonomousroboticorganism · 2 months ago

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they get jealous (TF Prime)

featuring - Optimus Prime x F!Reader, Bumblebee x F!Reader, Knock Out x F!Reader, Smokescreen x F!Reader, Wheeljack x F!Reader, Soundwave x F!Reader, Shockwave x F!Reader

summary - the bots have trouble witnessing you interact with/stare at another bot/human, and you think it's cute/funny

warnings - none

*(R/M/N) - random male name

OPTIMUS PRIME

Optimus is far from a jealous guy. He trusts you with every fibre of his being, and he does not and will never doubt you because his faith in you is that strong. He knows how dedicated and committed you are to him, so he never has to worry about that. It's just that sometimes he is unsure of himself because he is big, alien and unaccustomed to human tradition.

When Fowler brings in a human soldier to assist with missions that require human intervention, Optimus is initially agreeable to the idea. There has been a need for someone to run interference for the bots when Fowler wasn't available, which was evident a few times during the course of the last few months.

"This is Private (R/M/N)," Fowler introduced him when everyone, imcluding you and the other humans, were gathered all together. "The department has decided that a younger and more...active," he said the word disdainfully, "human recruit was needed."

Miko let out a giggle, earning Fowler's glare, and you had to try your hardest to keep from grinning. It was kind of funny.

"Private, this is Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots," Fowler went on to gesture at your lover. "I trust that you will work well together." And with that, the older man left.

(R/M/N) and Optimus spoke for a moment, before the human soldier turned his attention towards you and Jack, Raf and Miko. He looked relieved at the sight of other humans, and made his way over to join your group.

"Hi," he smiled sheepishly, "Is it as every bit daunting as I think it is spending so much time around these titans?"

"You get used to it," Miko grinned. "So, how many battles have you been in?"

"Miko!" You and Jack scolded simultaneously.

"No, it's okay," (R/M/N) chuckled, "I don't think I've seen as much war as Optimus, but I've been on a few rough assignments in rough places." He then launched into an explanation.

While the soldier spoke, Optimus walked over to listen. But he was quickly distracted when (R/M/N) began to only look at you, and began exaggerating his heroics in a blatant attempt to impress you. No one noticed except for Jack and Optimus, who exchanged looks.

"Excuse me, Private, (R/M/N)," the Prime finally decided to cut in when he'd had enough of the soldier's flirtatious looks and subtle flirting, "May I borrow my partner, (Name), for a moment?"

"Oh, you guys are dating?" He sounded disappointed. "Sure."

You were happy to go off with Optimus, as always. You had no idea he was feeling a little jealous, until you noticed that he wasn't talking about anything as you guys walked away.

"Optimus," you called for his attention, smirking, "Are you perhaps...a little jealous, of the new guy?"

"I do not know what you mean," he pretended to be clueless.

"Uh huh...So what did you need me for?"

"I needed you for...cuddling," he ended up saying, the word still sounding foreign in his voice. Which only gave him away further.

You laughed, "That's cute. You don't have to be jealous of that guy, babe. You're way more impressive, and I think we've established that my type is a certain big, strong and handsome Prime. There's nothing for you to worry about at all."

He seemed to relax after you said this, a smile forming on his lips, "That is good to hear. Thank you, (Name)."

"Anything for you."

BUMBLEBEE

Bumblebee trusts you with his entire spark. But his jealousy often stems from the fact that he's an alien robot who is so much bigger than you and thus harder for you to love, and that he can't speak to you like a normal person/Cybertronian. You, of course, understand him and constantly reassure him that you love him regardless of his inability to speak, and regardless of how big or alien he is. He's your Bumblebee, and you do everything you can to remind him of that.

But when Fowler introduces a new recruit, a human soldier to run interference when he's unavailable, Bumblebee starts to get uneasy just knowing that there's a human male your age (Jack too, but Bumblebee trusts Jack) around the base.

"Huh, maybe this won't be so bad after all," (R/M/N) commented after his eyes settled on you, and he started to approach.

Bumblebee's jealousy is ignited in that moment, and fueled by his inability to tell the soldier off for that remark. He crossed his large arms and became a pouty, cross scout, watching you talk to the soldier.

"They're fun to be around," you were telling him. "It's sometimes frightening, but these are the good ones. They're like family now."

"It must be hard having to keep this secret to yourself," he moved closer, sympathetic. "I'm open to being a confidant if you ever need one."

Bumblebee started complaining and whining to Smokescreen, the closest bot to him. He was asking your guardian to tell the soldier off for him, because his flirting was setting Bee off. Smokescreen found this amusing, much to Bee's chagrin.

But you noticed your scout was distressed, and excused yourself to go and approach him, "Bee, sweetheart, are you alright?"

He crossed his arms and pretended to be nonchalant, but when he said 'what do I care if you're making another male friend', you started laughing as you realised what was wrong.

"Bumblebee, are you jealous?"

He beeped and whirred defensively, claiming that he wasn't jealous and he was completely fine and nothing was wrong. All of this made you laugh even harder, and he whined in complaint.

"I'm sorry baby," you giggled, "I just think it's so funny and so cute how you're jealous of someone who I wouldn't even look twice at. Seriously, he's nothing compared to you, my one and only." You started scaling his leg. "You are the only one I have my eyes on Bee, and I won't talk to him any more than I have to because I have my incredibly wonderful boyfriend to spend all my time with. I enjoy our conversations more, even if you're unable to talk, okay? I always have, and I always will."

He felt better after you said that, and scooped you up when you had just reached his waist. He held you in his servo for a moment before nuzzling your smaller form against his face, making you giggle and wrap your arms around his helm.

"My sweet Bumblebee," you kept telling him, praising him and flustering him until he'd forgotten what he was jealous about.

KNOCK OUT

Unsurprisingly, Knock Out never had any fears about you leaving him for someone better, because he considered himself the best. The best looking, the best lover, the best physician, etc. That and he felt secure in your relationship, he knew you wouldn't want to leave him even if you could. You were just as obsessed with him as he was with you. His pretty little human girlfriend.

Unfortunately, he did not consider that you might be in awe of one of the Autobots.

He had taken you out of the warship to let you get some fresh air, as he did so every week. Being stuck on the Nemesis wasn't good for a human, that much he knew, and you needed to get more human food anyway.

He didn't expect it to turn into a high speed chase with the Autobots.

"Is that Bumblebee?" You suddenly asked, looking out the window at a black-and-yellow vehicle speeding up beside Knock Out. "That's such a cool car!"

Knock Out let out a growl, before ramming the Autobot a little harder than necessary. The scout spun off the road, and you laughed.

"Jealous much?"

"I am not jealous!" He protested, "I always do that to the Autobots."

"Right..."

You continued to watch the yellow Autobot pursue your boyfriend, amazed at how quick and agile the scout was. He was skilled for a mere scout, and you wondered why he hasn't been promoted.

"Stop admiring Bumblebee!" Knock Out hissed, jealousy clear as daylight in his voice.

"I'm not!"

"I can see you staring!"

"Okay, okay, sorry," you laughed, finding his reaction cute. "But you know you're much better than he is, right? I don't have to tell you that."

He called for an emergency groundbridge, and sped into it the moment it opened. He liked to taunt the Autobots, but he didn't want to risk it with you inside. His first priority was to get you to safety so they wouldn't take you away from him, and apparently ignore you like a little child because of what happened.

"Knock Out, babe," you laughed, "Why are you pouting?"

"I'm not pouting!"

You raised an eyebrow, "You finally speak to me."

"Sorry, I thought you wanted to talk to Bumblebee," he responded dryly.

"So you were jealous!" You smirked, then tried to get closer to him. "You don't have to be, you know. He's cool but nowhere near as cool as you. I mean you're sleek, shiny and you've got the best paintjob I've ever seen." In times like this, buttering him up usually worked. "You're the most attractive Cybertronian I have ever seen, and I love watching you fight because of the way you move. You have a certain elegance to your movements, which I think is really impressive."

He side-eyed (optic-ed?) you for a moment, before giving in, "Fine. Come here."

You grinned and rushed to his open servo.

SMOKESCREEN

Smokescreen gets jealous a little too easily. He's not an insecure bot, but he does worry that since he isn't from here and he's not like you, maybe one day you'd get tired of not being able to do everything human couples can and you'd leave him for a human. He trusts you, but sometimes he's reminded that you're both very different and it hits him hard. Fortunately, you do everything to ensure him that you are not going to leave him and that you actually prefer him over any human boy.

However, his jealousy returns when Agent Fowler brings another human to the base. This one is a soldier, a young one just a little older than you, but not by much. Fowler said it was because the soldier could help when he was unavailable, but Smokescreen was not impressed.

"Do you ever get used to having giants walk around you?" (R/M/N) asked you when the introductions had ended.

"Eventually," you answered. "They're careful where they walk, in case you're worried about about that."

Because you and the soldier were similar ages, you could talk about a few things you couldn't with your younger human friends. So when you spent an inordinate amount of time talking to him, you didn't see anything wrong with that. But Smokescreen, the clingy bot he was, wanted your attention now. And it was annoying him that you were still talking to (R/M/N).

"Hey, sorry to interrupt but I just need (Name) for a moment," the young bot cut in, scooping you up without waiting for a response from you or (R/M/N).

You laughed, noticing the irritated look on his usually cheerful face, "I didn't think it was possible for you to get jealous, you're so happy and optimistic all the time. What's got you so worried, hmm?"

"Nothing," he grumbled, not meeting your eyes. "I'm fine."

You found it cute how he thought he could lie to you, "You don't have to worry about (R/M/N), you know. I don't plan on being with anyone but you. You're the coolest guy I know, and I don't think I could feel this way about anyone else. Now stop pouting, you big baby. I'm all yours."

He mumbled something unintelligible but gave in, letting you kiss his cheek. Instantly his worries melted away and he was smiling again, that bright smile you loved so much.

"Do you really mean that?" He asked, still a little nervous.

"I really mean it, Smokescreen," you assured him, "I promise. You are my one and only and no human guy is going to change that."

"Oh so I should be worried about Cybertronian guys, then?"

"I never said that!" When he started laughing, you grumbled, "I think I liked it better when you were jealous." And he just laughed even more at that.

WHEELJACK

Wheeljack doesn't get jealous a lot, if not ever. He feels secure enough in your relationship to trust that you won't leave him for any human guy, and he's not worried about the Autobot mechs. Much less the Decepticon ones. He just sometimes doesn't like how someone talks to you, or he'll get annoyed when you spend so much time talking to someone else and not enough time with him. Because yes, sometimes he just wants you and when you're occupied he tends to sulk. Everyone knows when, because he's a lot moodier than usual.

Like now, for example. Agent Fowler had brought in another human to help the team, in case he was ever unavailable. To make matters worse, it was a human male soldier that had tons of stories to tell, which piqued yours and Miko's interest.

Wheeljack had just finished a mission with Bulkhead and Ultra Magnus - much to his chagrin, he had been forced to go with Optimus's second-in-command. When he returned with those two, he noticed you and Miko sitting with the new guy and listening to yet another one of his stories.

"...but he timed the explosive wrong, so we were thrown a few feet into the air while trying to get out of the house. His eyebrow was scorched off, but he laughed the whole situation off like it was nothing."

Miko said something bizarre about eyebrows, while you managed a small laugh. You hadn't seemed to notice that the Wreckers were back, and it only added to Wheeljack's irritation.

"His stories better than mine, sweetheart?" The bot walked over, and didn't even try to hide the annoyance in his tone.

"Huh?" You were confused, but then shook your head, "No, of course not. He was just telling us about one of his closest encounters."

"You call that a close encounter?" Wheeljack scoffed, then looked at Bulkhead, "If only he knew."

You raised an eyebrow, starting to suspect. Wheeljack never boasted about his own adventures unless he was trying to make a point or he was feeling cooped up and wanted to convince someone to let him go track a con to beat up.

"Yeah, you must have some crazy stories," (R/M/N) agreed.

You laughed and stood up, going over to the Wrecker who was narrowing his optics at the human soldier, "Something the matter? Is the big, strong Wrecker intimidated by a human?"

"Intimidated?" He growled, "I'm not intimidated."

"Then what is it?"

"What's what?"

"Wheeljack."

He sighed, holding his servo out to you to get onto, "I just don't like that he's taking up your time with his boring stories."

You laughed again, "Boring? Oh, you are jealous."

He looked at you sceptically, and you laughed once more as he spoke, "Jealous of a small human who hasn't even seen half the things I have? Not a chance."

"Okay, tough guy. But you don't have to be upset, I like listening to your stories more. They're way more exciting," you kissed his faceplate.

"That's right. Don't you forget it."

SOUNDWAVE

Soundwave doesn't express emotions around anyone but you. And even then, he uses the screen on his visor to communicate. However, that doesn't mean that he doesn't feel. He doesn't feel as strongly as others, but he still feels. But he doesn't show it in the way others do. Unfortunately, since you came under his care he found himself doing a lot of things unexpected of him.

You liked to talk. You spoke enough for both you and the silent Decepticon, and he listened intently. When you spoke to him, he gave you all his attention knowing he can't talk back. And some very small part of him thinks that it troubles you that he doesn't talk to you.

He's not at all disappointed or upset when you make a friend in Knock Out, who loves to talk about himself to you. Soundwave is content that you have someone to have animated discussions with while he's busy, but eventually it gets to a point where you hang out more with Knock Out than you do with him.

Like today, he finished a task for Megatron and walked to his berthroom, expecting to find you reading and waiting for him like you usually did. However, you weren't there, so he proceeded to check Knock Out's lab. And you were there, lying asleep against one of Knock Out's tools, though Soundwave noted it wasn't a dangerous one.

"Ah Soundwave, I was just about to call you," the mad doctor approached. "She fell asleep a little while ago."

The silent Decepticon nodded and picked you up gently, holding you in a manner that didn't disturb your nap. Without another word to Knock Out, he left with you and took you back to his berthroom. You woke up on his berth, and looked around in confusion.

"Soundwave?" You called, noticing he was for once not looking at you. And he was obviously aware you were awake. "What's wrong?"

He typed something out on his screen: you fell asleep in the lab so I brought you here.

"I'm sorry," you apologised, feeling guilty though you didn't know why. "I just lost track of time. And I didn't want to disrupt your work, I know you're handling something important for Megatron."

He shook his head, then typed out: I can do both. You do not disturb me. I also like to see you at any given moment.

You smiled at that, "I'll keep that in mind next time."

He responded with another message saying that he's going to try and finish earlier so he can spend a little time with you before you sleep. He would never admit it, but he was jealous of how often you got to see others because he was always working. Maybe he needed to change that.

SHOCKWAVE

Like Soundwave, Shockwave is often busy because Megatron entrusts him with so many important projects and tasks. He barely has time some days to spend with you, as you're usually asleep when he's finally done. He is content with holding your sleeping form, but he would rather you be awake to tell him about your day.

So when you make another friend aboard the ship, Shockwave doesn't think much of it at first but soon realises that his busy schedule is pushing you towards someone else, even if it's not purposely.

You suddenly ran into the lab giggling and laughing as you looked over your shoulder. Laserbeak followed seconds later, the little metal bird entertaining you while Shockwave worked. He had to admit, he didn't think Soundwave would have been the best option for a friend for you, but he was the least hostile. You were probably safer with him than any others.

That thought made Shockwave stop for a moment, an ugly feeling filling him. He was by no means insecure, but he knew he could be too engrossed in his work, and he knew he was physically imposing. He'd scared you the first time you'd met, and he often wondered how safe you felt around him.

"Soundwave's surveillance drone seems to like you," the scientist noted as he continued his work, glancing at you once to make sure he knew where you were.

"Oh, yeah!" You beamed. "Soundwave added a new feature that allows Laserbeak to actually interact with me!"

You sounded so excited that Shockwave turned to look at you, seeing how much fun you were having. He didn't have anything that could elicit such laughter from you, and a small part of him was tempted to shoot Laserbeak.

"If you would like, I can create something even better for you," he suggested, "You could help me design it." Maybe that was also an excuse to have you around him more often.

Your eyes lit up at the idea, and you sent Laserbeak back to Soundwave as you climbed onto Shockwave's table, "That sounds fun! What do we start with?"

Shockwave was so good at hiding his emotions, you didn't even know he had been jealous. But your eagerness to help him and spend time with him above everyone else is what put him at ease, knowing he wouldn't be so easily replaced because you were so attached to him.

#transformers #transformers prime #tf prime #tfp #tfp x reader #optimus prime x reader #bumblebee x reader #knock out x reader #smokescreen x reader #wheeljack x reader #soundwave x reader #shockwave x reader

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simplygojo · 5 months ago

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The Cool Uncle Blurbs - JJK Men

author's note ⸺ Heyyy, so I have been told by a few of y'all that I need to write shorter blurbs, so this was my practice piece! Each character's blurb is about 1k each...writing something this short is so foreign to me, I am so used to having 8k minimums for school, so this may take practice! Please let me know if you like these shorter blurbs :)

pairings ⸺ Toji Fushiguro x reader; Satoru Gojo x reader; Kento Nanami x reader; Suguru Geto x f!reader

inspo ⸺ Inspired by some art by @clemenlush (linked here) that inspired me to write the JJK men as cool uncles, lol. Let me know if any of y'all want me to do another character!!

warnings ⸺ alcohol use, suggestive jokes, baby fever!, mention of baby-making!, reader uses female pronouns, reader presumed to have a vag!na, softboys & fluff

Requests are open! Please read the Request Guidelines before submitting a request <33

✧.* — TOJI FUSHIGURO — ✧.*

You glanced at Toji as he steered the car down the quiet, tree-lined street. The low hum of the engine was the only sound between you two, but that familiar weight of his presence filled the silence. He always carried himself with an easy confidence, a kind of quiet power that made him stand out without even trying.

“You don’t have to look so annoyed,” you teased, catching the subtle furrow in his brow as he pulled into Jinichi’s driveway.

Toji didn’t say anything at first, just smirked and glanced sideways at you. “I’m not annoyed,” he grumbled, though the slight tilt of his mouth said otherwise. “Just not exactly in the mood for the family dinner crap.”

You rolled your eyes.

Classic Toji.

“Be nice. It’s just dinner. You’re not walking into a fight,” you reminded him with a soft laugh, unbuckling your seatbelt. “And you know exactly how much your nephew adores you.”

That earned you a low chuckle as he cut the engine and slouched back in his seat.

“Kid's got good taste. I’m the only fun one ‘round here.”

You both stepped out of the car and as you made your way up the driveway, the front door swung open.

Your brother-in-law, Jinichi, stood there, smiling at you both, but barely had the chance to greet you before the sound of hurried footsteps followed behind him.

“Toji-ojisan!”

A small, dark-haired blur darted past Jinichi and straight toward Toji. Before you could blink, Toji’s nephew had attached himself to his leg, looking up with wide eyes.

“Uncle Toji! You came! Are you gonna tell me more stories about when you were younger?”

Toji raised an eyebrow, smirking down at the kid, then cast a sidelong glance at you.

“See? Told you. I’m the fun one.”

You shook your head, trying to suppress a smile as Toji crouched down to ruffle his nephew’s hair.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too full of yourself.”

“Already am,” he replied, deadpan, before turning his full attention to the kid.

“What’s up, brat? You been behaving?”

The little boy nodded enthusiastically, practically bouncing on his toes.

“Yep! I’ve been practicing just like you told me. Can we go to the backyard later? You gotta see my new moves!”

Toji stood back up, arms crossed as he exchanged a quick glance with Jinichi, who gave a knowing grin.

There was an unspoken fondness between them, though Jinichi didn’t say anything, just stepping aside to let you in.

Inside, the house was warm and inviting, the scent of homemade food already filling the air. You noticed Toji’s posture relax—just a bit—as you made your way to the living room.

His nephew stuck to his side like glue, constantly asking about everything from Toji’s workout routine to his old school stories.

Toji answered in his usual blunt way, never indulging the kid too much, but just enough to keep him hooked.

After dinner, you found yourself sitting outside on the back patio, watching Toji and his nephew go over some silly mock sparring moves.

The boy had his fists up, trying to mimic Toji’s stance, all while Toji lazily dodged the punches, not bothering to hide the amusement in his eyes.

You leaned back in your chair, and for a moment, it was like your heart swelled in your chest—three sizes too big, you thought with a smile.

It was impossible not to feel that warmth as you watched Toji with his nephew, his tough exterior softened just a bit in these moments.

He’d never admit it, but seeing him like this, in his own way, playing the doting uncle…it made you melt.

You could see it in the way his nephew looked at him, hanging onto his every word. And the way Toji engaged—aloof but present—it warmed something deep inside you.

“You’re such a softie, you know that?” you called out, your voice teasing but laced with affection.

Toji turned, still holding up a lazy guard, eyes narrowing playfully. “Yeah? How d’you figure?”

You gave him a knowing grin, folding your arms. “Look at you—out here entertaining him like you don’t enjoy it. Don’t act like you don’t love being the ‘cool uncle.’”

He straightened up, brushing his hands through his hair as he cast a quick glance at his nephew—who was too busy practicing his “new moves” on a nearby tree—to respond.

Then, with a smirk that made your heart skip a beat, he stepped toward you. “Maybe I am a softie,” he started, voice low, “but only for you.”

You blinked, a playful roll of your eyes as you went to respond—

“Though, I’ll tell ya, there’s somethin’ I’m neverr soft for...”

It took you all of two seconds to realize where he was going, but before he could finish the joke, you flicked him right in the forehead.

“Toji!” You scolded, laughing despite yourself.

He grinned, all too pleased with himself, as he rubbed his forehead.

“What? You’re the one who brought it up, sweetheart.”

“You’re awful,” you said, shaking your head, though the warmth in your chest remained. You could never stay mad at him, especially not when he was like this—so smug, so sure of himself.

“And to think I almost thought you were sweet for a second.”

He leaned down, one hand coming to rest on the arm of your chair as he hovered over you, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips.

“Almost, huh?”

You flicked his forehead again, but softer this time. “Don’t push your luck.”

He chuckled, leaning back and crossing his arms as he glanced toward his nephew, still occupied in his makeshift sparring match with the tree.

“Brat’s got a lot to learn,” he muttered, but you could hear the fondness there, the warmth beneath his tough exterior.

“Kid might be cooler than me one day.”

You smiled, shaking your head as you watched the two of them together.

“Not possible,” you said softly, though Toji didn’t hear it—or pretended not to.

Either way, in that moment, your heart was full. This was your life, and honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

✧.* — GOJO SATORU — ✧.*

Gojo’s fingers tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel as he hummed along to the radio, sunglasses perched—needlessly—on his nose despite the fact it was well after sunset.

You shot him a side-eye.

“You do realize we’re just going to Shoko’s for dinner, right? You’re acting like you’re about to perform on stage.”

He grinned, his lips pulling into that signature cocky smile.

“Aren’t I always the main attraction, though? Especially tonight. Her kid adores me.”

You snorted. “Yeah, because you let him climb all over you like a jungle gym.”

“Hey, I’m just providing the fun. I can’t help that I’m a natural favourite,” he quipped, glancing at you for emphasis before focusing back on the road.

“You say that like it’s a talent,” you teased, though the warmth in your chest grew as you thought about it.

It was hard not to love Gojo when he was like this—carefree, playful, and so naturally magnetic, especially around kids.

By the time you pulled up to Shoko’s house, you could already hear the muffled sound of laughter and conversation.

The front door creaked open before either of you could knock, and Shoko’s five-year-old son burst out, arms outstretched, ready to greet his hero.

“Gojo-nii!” The kid’s excitement was so pure, it was contagious.

Gojo’s grin only widened, and he crouched down to scoop him up in one smooth motion.

“Hey, champ! Been keeping things under control at this house? Your mom can be a handful…”

The boy giggled as Gojo swung him around effortlessly, his small hands gripping the fabric of Gojo’s coat.

You stood back for a moment, hand still resting on the open passenger door, with a growing smile on your face.

Gojo’s childlike energy matched the kid’s perfectly, and it never failed to make your heart melt.

“He’s been waiting for you all day,” Shoko called from the hallway, rolling her eyes as she stepped into view.

“Good luck tearing him away from you tonight.”

Gojo set the kid down with a dramatic flair, straightening up and shooting a playful wink at you.

“What can I say? I’ve got that irresistible charm.”

“Careful, your ego’s showing again,” you quipped, nudging him as you all walked into the house.

As Gojo and the boy ran off to “catch up”—which likely meant some sort of wild chase through the living room—you found yourself watching from the kitchen doorway, arms crossed and heart swelling.

It always surprised you how soft Gojo could be, especially around kids.

His usual swagger and bravado were still there, but he had a way of connecting with them that was genuinely sweet. It made your heart skip in ways you had never expected.

You smiled to yourself, shaking your head slightly as you watched Gojo give the kid a piggyback ride, the room filled with their laughter.

Shoko came up beside you, handing you a glass of wine.

“Never thought I’d see the day where Satoru Gojo is someone’s favorite jungle gym,” she commented dryly, taking a sip from her own glass.

You laughed softly, nodding. “Yeah, it’s weird, right? But he loves it.”

Shoko gave you a knowing look. “Does he? Or does he just love being adored?”

You grinned, letting out a short laugh before responding.

“Both. Definitely both.”

Later, after dinner, Gojo had somehow convinced the boy to show him every toy he owned, and you found yourself watching them again, heart swelling even more.

You didn’t know how, but every time Gojo was around that kid, you swore your heart was overwhelmed with admiration.

“You’re good with him, you know,” you said softly as you sidled up next to Gojo, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, helping the boy assemble a toy robot. “It’s almost like you… enjoy this.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, feigning offence. “Enjoy? What are you trying to say, love? You think I’m not the paternal type?”

You smirked, leaning down to whisper, “I think you love it, actually...”

Gojo leaned back slightly, crossing his arms and giving you a playful look. “Oh, I love a lot of things,” he said smoothly, lowering his voice.

“And most of them are when we’re not around a five-year-old.”

You blinked, realizing the meaning behind his words, and lightly smacked him at the back of his head. “Satoru!”

“Ow!” He pouted, rubbing the back of his head. “What? I’m just being honest.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a grin. “You’re the worst.”

“Actually…I’m the best,” he corrected with a wink, as the kid ran back to Gojo’s side, completely oblivious to the innuendo.

Watching Gojo with that playful smile and the way he effortlessly entertained the kid—who was still tugging at his sleeve to show him yet another toy—made you feel an overwhelming sense of warmth.

Sure, Gojo could be an insufferable flirt, but seeing him like this, so naturally connected and full of energy, reminded you why you loved him so much.

Even when he was being a ridiculous show-off, he had a way of making your heart burst with affection.

“Okay, okay,” you said, shaking your head fondly.

“Let’s see if you can at least try to behave yourself the rest of the night.”

Gojo stood up, stretching dramatically, and then leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“No promises. You know me—I always aim to please.”

You smacked him again, this time softer, as he flashed that signature grin of his and turned his attention back to Shoko’s son, who was already planning his next adventure with his “cool uncle.”

✧.* — NANAMI KENTO — ✧.*

The evening sky was beginning to blush with hues of orange and pink as you and Nanami made your way to your sister's house.

The quiet hum of the car and the familiar scent of Nanami’s cologne made the drive feel calm, though you couldn’t help the tiny flutter of excitement in your stomach.

Family dinners were always nice, but this time there was a little extra something—your niece loved Nanami.

“I think she loves you more than she loves me,” you said playfully, turning to glance at your husband as he kept his eyes focused on the road.

Nanami’s lips twitched into the smallest of smiles.

“Hardly. She just appreciates that I bring her books.”

“Books, toys, puzzles, snacks—don’t act like you haven’t been spoiling her.” You teased, gently nudging his arm.

He gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug, but you could see the way his eyes softened.

“I just want to make sure she’s happy.”

You grinned.

It was the kind of answer you'd expect from Nanami—thoughtful, selfless, and with an unspoken affection that melted your heart every time.

It was hard to imagine anyone not loving him, really.

As you pulled up in front of your sister’s house, you didn’t even have a chance to step out of the car before the front door swung open.

Your niece, a whirlwind of energy with messy pigtails and a huge smile, came racing down the path.

“Uncle Kento!” she squealed, her little feet pounding against the pavement as she made a beeline for Nanami.

He stepped out of the car just in time for her to throw her arms around his legs, hugging him tightly. Nanami looked slightly startled but quickly softened, crouching down to her level. “Hello, sweetheart.”

Her face lit up at his greeting, and she quickly started tugging him towards the house.

“Come on! I have to show you my new dollhouse! You’re going to love it!”

You watched them from a few steps behind, heart warming at the sight. Nanami—who always seemed so composed and serious—was completely wrapped around your niece’s tiny finger. It was an endearing contrast, watching the usually stoic man willingly get pulled into a child’s world of excitement and play.

By the time you reached the front door, your niece had already dragged Nanami inside, babbling non-stop about the dollhouse, the latest puzzle he bought her, and a new storybook she wanted him to read later.

You exchanged a smile with your sister, who had appeared in the doorway, laughing as she watched her daughter commandeer Nanami's attention.

“He’s got the magic touch with kids, huh?” Your sister remarked, raising an eyebrow at you.

You chuckled, stepping inside. “She loves him. I think she’s ready to keep him all to herself.”

“Good luck getting him back,” she teased, giving you a playful nudge as you both headed into the living room.

Dinner was filled with easy conversation, laughter, and your niece proudly showing Nanami everything she could think of—her new school projects, her favorite toys, and even a drawing she had made “just for him.”

He listened attentively, offering genuine praise, his voice calm but warm in a way that made it clear he wasn’t just humoring her. He cared.

You found yourself watching the two of them, your heart swelling with each small interaction.

It was impossible not to smile, seeing Nanami, the man who rarely let himself relax, so at ease around your niece.

Nanami had just finished reading her a bedtime story, and now she was fast asleep, curled up under the blankets with her favorite stuffed toy.

“She’s asleep,” he murmured softly, his hand brushing your niece’s hair away from her face.

You stepped forward, quietly gathering the blankets to tuck her in. “You’re really good with her, you know?”

He glanced at you, a faint smile on his lips. “I try.”

“No, really,” you said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “She loves you. You’re her favorite.”

Nanami’s eyes softened at your words, but he didn’t say much more, his hand lingering on your niece’s small form for a moment longer before standing up.

The two of you quietly exited the room, letting her sleep in peace.

After saying your goodbyes to your sister and thanking her for dinner, you both made your way out to the car.

The night air was cool, and the streets were quiet as Nanami opened the passenger door for you, his hand resting briefly at the small of your back as you slid into the seat.

The drive home was calm, with the rhythmic sound of the tires against the road creating a peaceful background hum. You glanced out the window, watching the city lights blur into soft orbs as they passed by.

Nanami was silent beside you, his hands steady on the wheel. There was something thoughtful in the way he held himself, a quiet contemplation that you could sense even without looking at him.

After a few minutes, he finally spoke.

“You know, I’ve been thinking…” You tilted your head, curiosity piqued by the sudden weight in his voice.

Nanami hesitated for a moment, his thumb tapping lightly on the steering wheel before reaching over to rest on your thigh.

“Of what I want,” he said, his voice a little quieter. “Of what we could have.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the implication behind his words, and you turned to face him fully, sensing where this was going.

“Kento…” You began softly.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” he continued, his gaze fixed ahead on the road.

“For a while now, actually.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel your pulse quicken as the meaning behind his words settled in. He wasn’t just talking about your niece anymore.

“You’re talking about…” you trailed off, your voice barely above a whisper.

“A family,” he finished for you, his tone gentle but certain. “I want us to have a baby.”

For a moment, you just sat there.

You had always known that Nanami cared deeply, that he was serious about your future together, but hearing him say it like this, so plainly, so sincerely—it was something else entirely.

“You want a baby?” You repeated softly, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions.

He nodded, his eyes still focused on the road but softening as he spoke.

“Yes. I want to start a family with you. I’ve been thinking about it for some time, but… I didn’t want to pressure you.”

You reached over, gently placing your hand on top of his where it rested on your leg.

“You’re not pressuring me, Kento. I…” You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts.

“I want that too. With you. More than anything.”

When you finally pulled up to your home, Nanami turned off the engine and sat there for a moment, the faint glow of the streetlights illuminating his thoughtful expression.

He turned to you, reaching out to cup your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that made your heart skip.

“I mean it,” he murmured. “Whenever you’re ready. We’ll do this together.”

You leaned into his touch, your eyes meeting his with a warmth and certainty you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Well…I am ready now...” You said with a playful tone.

He smiled then—small, soft, and full of love—and leaned in to press a tender kiss to your lips, sealing the quiet promise you had both made tonight.

“Well then lets get inside.”

✧.* — SUGURU GETO — ✧.*

It was a peaceful evening, and the low hum of conversation filled the room, accompanied by the occasional clatter of building blocks. You sat cross-legged on the couch, watching as Suguru helped Utahime's son with his tower-building endeavor.

The little boy was fully engaged, eyes bright with excitement as Suguru gently guided his small hands to balance each block perfectly.

“Higher, Sugu! Make it taller!” the boy giggled, his enthusiasm filling the room with an infectious joy.

Suguru chuckled softly, his deep voice filled with warmth.

“Careful, we don’t want it to fall,” he murmured, adding another block to the structure with a steady hand.

His long fingers made the task look effortless, and the boy watched in awe.

You leaned back against the couch cushions, the sight of Suguru interacting with the child making your heart swell.

There was something about seeing him like this—patient, soft-spoken, so full of care. It was a side of him that you loved deeply, and it reminded you just how much of a natural he was with kids.

“You’re really good with him,” you commented, your voice a little more tender than usual as you admired the scene before you.

Suguru glanced over at you, the corners of his mouth lifting in a faint smile.

“He’s easy to please,” he said, turning his attention back to the boy, who was now clapping his hands excitedly as the tower grew taller.

“Still,” you said, watching the way the boy leaned into Suguru, clearly adoring him, “he’s obsessed with you. I’ve never seen him so attached.”

Suguru smirked, a playful glint in his eyes.

“What can I say? I’m just irresistible.”

You rolled your eyes at that, but your heart warmed anyway.

“Sure, sure. Let’s just hope you don’t break his heart when we leave.”

The boy turned to you, his face lighting up with joy. “Sugu is so cool, y/n! He’s gonna help me with my blocks forever!”

You chuckled, brushing a hand through your hair as you watched Suguru pretend to be serious.

“Forever, huh? That’s a long time, buddy.”

Suguru leaned down, lowering his voice conspiratorially as if sharing a secret with the boy.

“I don’t mind,” he whispered, his tone teasing. “As long as I get to build the biggest towers.”

The boy giggled, his eyes sparkling as he nodded enthusiastically. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight—it was moments like this that made your heart grow three sizes.

You leaned forward, nudging Suguru’s shoulder lightly.

“Admit it, you’re loving this.”

Suguru’s dark eyes flickered with amusement as he glanced at you, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Of course! What’s not to love?”

Before you could respond, the familiar sound of keys jingling outside the door caught your attention.

You glanced at the clock—it was just about time for Utahime to be home.

The front door creaked open, and Utahime stepped inside, looking a little worn out but smiling when she saw the scene in front of her.

“Looks like I missed all the fun,” she said, her voice carrying a mix of relief and gratitude as she took in the sight of her son sitting on the floor, still glued to Suguru’s side.

“Mama!” The boy immediately jumped up, running toward her with open arms. Utahime knelt down, scooping him up with a tired but happy sigh.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she murmured, kissing the top of his head. “Were you good for Suguru and y/n?”

“He was an angel,” you replied with a smile, standing up from the couch. “Though, I think Suguru’s the real hero tonight.”

Utahime chuckled, glancing at Suguru with an appreciative smile.

“I don’t doubt it. Thanks for watching him—both of you. I owe you one.”

Suguru waved her off, standing up and stretching his arms.

“No need. He’s a fun kid. We built the tallest tower yet.”

The boy wiggled in Utahime’s arms, looking up at her excitedly.

“Mama, it was so tall! Sugu’s the best!”

Utahime smiled down at him, her eyes softening. “I’m glad you had fun, sweetie. Let’s get you ready for bed, okay?”

As Utahime carried her son off to his room, you turned to Suguru, your hand finding his arm as you gave him a gentle squeeze.

“You were great with him tonight,” you said softly, your eyes full of affection.

Suguru gave you a warm smile, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple.

“I had fun,” he murmured. “But we should probably head out.”

You nodded, glancing around the apartment to make sure everything was in order. After a few minutes, Utahime returned, looking more relaxed now that her son was settled.

“Thanks again, guys,” she said, walking you both to the door. “I’ll definitely owe you one for this.”

“Anytime,” you replied with a smile, giving her a quick hug before stepping out into the cool evening air.

As you and Suguru made your way to his bike, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment settle over you. There was something peaceful about nights like this—watching Suguru be so gentle and kind, seeing how naturally he fit into the role of caretaker.

It stirred something warm and familiar deep within you.

Once you both stepped outside into the cool evening air, Suguru glanced at you with a smirk.

“You know,” he started, his tone laced with that unmistakable teasing charm, “playing with Utahime’s kid is fun and all, but…” He paused, raising an eyebrow as he reached for your hand. “I was thinking we should get home and get to some 'baby-making' ourselves… if you know what I mean.”

Heat instantly bloomed in your cheeks as you laughed, nudging him in the ribs. “Suguru!”

But before you could respond properly, Suguru swept you off your feet with ease, lifting you into his arms.

“What? It’s a solid plan, plus you're the one who kept saying I'm just sooo good with kids.” He grinned, peppering your face with soft kisses as he carried you toward his motorcycle.

“Put me down!” You laughed, but your protests were playful as Suguru’s kisses continued, light and affectionate, his breath warm against your skin.

“You love it,” he murmured between kisses, making you giggle even more.

With one final press of his lips to your forehead, Suguru set you down beside his motorcycle, the playful glint in his eyes still there.

“Now, let’s get home,” he said, sliding onto the bike and passing you your helmet. “We’ve got some important work to do.”

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you climbed onto the bike behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

As the engine roared to life, you pressed your cheek against his back, feeling that same peaceful contentment wash over you once more.

And as you sped off into the night, the playful warmth of Suguru's teasing stayed with you, a reminder of just how lucky you were to have him by your side.

Author's Note II: Let me know your thoughts on these and lmk if you want me to do any other characters :)

LOVE Y'ALL

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chrollogy · 7 months ago

Text

SUNSET DREAMS ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

kageyama tobio x afab!reader

╰┈➤ part of house of solis occasum’s summer fic exchange for @mcdonaldsnumberone !

synopsis: The tall, raven-haired surf instructor catches your attention during a private surfing lesson with your friends but due to circumstances, there was no space for small talk. Later that afternoon, you cross paths once again at a beach club—a sign from the universe to grab the opportunity, and get to know him better. This quickly leads to a turn of events where you both end up naked in bed, and eager to explore each other’s bodies but there’s just one thing though, he’s a virgin.

content warning: beach au, surf instructor!/surfer!kageyama, poor depiction of surfing, bartender!hinata cameo, alcohol use, awkward flirting, i am making kags PATHETIC, summer fling/beach romance, nsfw, smut (mdni), virgin!kageyama, bottom!kageyama, top!reader, virginity loss (m), porn without plot, handjob, cum eating, unprotected s*x, creampie, multiple orgasms (m), not beta read.

word count: 6.3k

notes: eeeeep it’s my first time writing for mr tobio but i absolutely had fun !! i hope you enjoy mac :3 divider: cafekitsune.

The scorching sun amongst the cerulean skies kissed your warm skin, the scent of salt, and sea lingered in the air as a summer breeze blew by; sounds of heavy waves from the crystalline water, and distant chatters from avid beach goers filled your senses. It was hot, and humid with no ivory clouds in sight—the perfect formula for a quick summer getaway. The beach buzzed with liveliness; colourful hues of towels, and essentials laid upon the white sand, kids with plastic buckets, and shovels eagerly building sand castles, surfers chasing the endless azure waves beneath the blazing sun.

Just the sight of swells had your heart thumping with adrenaline rush, a vivid imagery of yourself attempting to ride the waves formulated in your mind. You’ve never tried surfing before but today was the perfect time to do so—a completely out of the blue suggestion by one of your friends, not that you were complaining. It was always nice to try new things, anyway.

“How do I look? Did I put on too much sunscreen?”

A saccharine voice to your left reeled you back to reality; looking over at the owner of the voice, an emerald gaze stared right back, her eyes sparkling beneath the searing rays of the sun. Scanning your friend’s face for any white cast from the sunscreen, you shook your head, and smiled, “You look fine, Alisa.” Taking your word for it, she mirrored your smile before placing her sunnies over her eyes. You, and three friends were clad in a rental jet black skin tight wetsuit provided by the surf school, preparing for today’s private beginner lesson.

You weren’t going to lie, the thought of braving the waves made your heart pound from nervousness, and excitement but seeing as you were going to experience this foreign activity with your friends—who also haven’t tried it before—it put you at ease; you just hoped the instructor was could somewhat save you if you happen to fall off the surfboard, and onto the warm waters beneath.

Speaking of the instructor, Hitoka spoke up, a subtle devious smile on her face as she worked her hands on her flaxen strands, deftly tying it up in a low ponytail, “I bet our instructor is hot.” This earned silent chuckles from the rest of you, shaking your heads at the blonde who just shrugged in response. “Laugh at me all you want now but if I’m right, you owe me a free drink at the beach club later.”

Playfully rolling your eyes at her newfound determination, you waved a dismissive hand at your friend, mirroring her smile,

“Sure, whatever helps you—”

“I’m so sorry for the wait, everyone! I’ll be your surfing instructor for today.” A dulcet voice cut your sentence short, it belonged to a tall man clad in a wetsuit—he looked to be around your age. Blinking twice up at him, your eyes raked his physique up, and down before taking in his handsome beauty—cropped raven hair that framed his face, and the sharp gaze of his dark blue eyes were the cherry on top; a blend of an innocent yet sultry appeal. He emanated a subtle intimidating aura, especially paired with his looming height but his voice was as soft as the first rays of the early morning, something you could get used to hearing everyday.

You were already considering buying Hitoka that free drink because god was he fucking hot—the skin tight surf suit did not leave much to one’s imagination with the way it hugged his lean build; dips, and curves of his muscles accentuated by the waterproof fabric. It was beyond shameless to ogle your instructor because you’ve completely missed his name, instead, your eyes were focused on the way his muscular legs shifted as he leaned his weight from one bare foot to another.

Next thing you knew, his sharp gaze was on you, an expectant look on his handsome face. Snapping out of your trance, you hesitantly looked to the side—at your friends—clearly unaware of what was going on, ‘Your name. He’s asking for your name.’ Kiyoko mouthed. Letting out a sound of realisation, you smiled up at the instructor, and introduced yourself, ignoring the sudden warmth that crept up the column of your neck, and to your cheeks.

After brief introductions were out of the way, the five of you headed down to the beach—surfboards securely tucked beneath an arm—to start off today’s lesson. Hitoka fell into a step next to you, hissing at the white scorching sand beneath her bare feet, angling your face over to her, you spoke up, “Hey, what was our instructor’s name again? I didn’t catch it earlier.” She looked at you, that devious smile back in its place, brows furrowed, free hand shielding her sweaty face from the blinding sun, “Why? Too busy ogling his hotness?”

Yes. But you weren’t going to tell her that—god, no, she’d never live it down because she was right.

You mustered your best uninterested expression, however, the corners of your lips were itching to curl upwards at her blatant teasing, clearly hitting the nail on the head. Hitoka briefly returned the same deadpan expression, narrowing her chestnut eyes at you before letting out a sigh of defeat, “Kageyama Tobio. Full name, even.” She snickered before going on to complain about the hot sand, and the equally hot summer weather.

“Kageyama Tobio.” You muttered underneath your breath, satisfied at how it easily rolled off your tongue—little did you know, you were going to be moaning it out like a shameless common whore hours later, as though it was made for your tongue only.

As the group neared the deserted azure waters, the scent of salt grew stronger; the sound of small waves crashing on the shoreline filled your ears as you came to a halt just a few ways from the water. Kageyama started the lesson by skilfully explaining the safety guidelines, surfing etiquette, and basic techniques; you tried your best to listen in on the briefing since this was a crucial part of the lesson but his dulcet voice slowly faded along with distant noises from the background as you stared up at his face.

Your eyes gently traced over every dip, and curve of Kageyama’s features, lips parted in slight awe, completely lost in his serene beauty as the late morning sun casted a warm glow upon his skin. This has never happened before—sure, you’ve stumbled upon other jaw-dropping faces in the past that had your heart skipping a beat or two but this was different, you were shamelessly drawn to him; as though you were a moon affected by gravitational attraction, falling into an orbit around a planet named Kageyama Tobio. Though, you mostly chalked up your absentmindedness to nerves taking root deep beneath your skin, as each minute grew closer to hitting the swells of the vast ocean.

After getting thoroughly briefed through safety measures, and basic techniques—such as paddling, popping up, and maintaining balance—the next part of the lesson was getting into the water. Despite your heart pounding with nervousness, paddling wasn’t too bad, the coolness of the wavy waters calmed your nerves a tad bit—a daring contrast from the scorching sun directly above your head.

Fortunately for you, Kageyama was amazing at his job—even though the group practised on shallow waters with small waves, getting the hang of popping up, and maintaining balance on the board was tricky, and he was there to ensure an easy experience for you. The feeling of Kageyama’s firm grip around the back of your thigh had your heart hammering as he supported your weight, gently guiding you to stand up on the board,

“Good! You’re a natural. Remember to keep your knees bent—that’s it.” His praise went straight to your legs, knees slightly buckling; it absolutely caught you off guard, almost losing balance but luckily, you didn’t let up, and tried your best to navigate through the small wave.

The lesson carried on for another hour—it went smoothly despite unceremoniously falling into the water a couple of times with your friends but this earned you several words of encouragement from your instructor which definitely did not have you pressing your legs together; god, you just hoped Kageyama didn’t notice with the amount of times you’ve done it throughout the span of the lesson—you’d rather willingly drink the salty sea water instead.

It was already late afternoon, and the summer sun was beginning to set; blue skies turned into hues of cotton candy pink, and pastel orange which casted a vibrant warm glow over the beach, as though it was a scene from a movie. The group leisurely walked along the stretch of the beach, heading for the beach club mentioned earlier. The three indulged themselves in a mellow conversation, raving about their newfound surfing skills, your mind, on the other hand, wandered elsewhere.

Gaze locked on the warm sand beneath as moments from the lesson vividly replayed in your head; you could still feel the warmth of Kageyama’s palm against your clothed skin, the way his fingers ever so slightly dug into your body whenever you wobbled a little.

As if the universe somewhat knew the truth of your mind, Hitoka exclaimed, “Hey! Isn’t that our instructor from earlier?” At the mention of him, your head shot up, eyes following the direction of her pointed finger; as your gaze shifted all the way to the sparkling waters, you recognized Kageyama’s familiar physique.

There he was in his own world, propped up on his surfboard, deftly riding the afternoon waves. As expected from a pro surfer, Kageyama’s body moved with such accuracy, and intricateness as though he was the one controlling the water—clad only in black board shorts, he looked absolutely divine beneath the sunset skies, the golden glow of the sun bouncing off his bare torso.

“He was a little too intense for me, if I’m being honest.” Alisa momentarily stared at him before shifting her gaze. “Really? He seemed fine to me. Just a little stiff.” Kiyoko responded, brows subtly furrowed as though she was in deep thought; this earned a hum of agreement from Hitoka before rambling on about how intense Kageyama’s gaze was.

Hm, you must be the odd one out because in your eyes, his personality was warm, albeit, a little awkward, and blunt but despite that, it was manageable—hell, you even enjoyed his praises no matter how flat or awkward his tone was.

The conversation carried over to the beach club located along a tranquil coastline; greeted with a mix of elegance, and topical accents, you scanned the place in awe—wooden cabanas draped with ivory curtains, and outdoor sunbeds lined the white sands which overlooked the still, azure waters. Apart from the ocean itself, the pool was also an option to swim in, offering a mini bar that you had your eyes set on.

Kiyoko, and Alisa decided to explore other amenities of the club whereas Hitoka opted to lounge at a sunbed, wanting to catch a glimpse of the sun setting behind the horizon, and as for you, your feet were already taking you to the mini bar situated by the pool. After that lengthy, exhausting lesson, all you needed right now was a little alcohol to wash down thoughts about a certain surfer that plagued your mind.

Tropical beats spilled from the speakers, creating a lively atmosphere for its patrons to enjoy; luckily, the poolside wasn’t too congested, and you were able to secure a vacant stool. Opting for the farthest corner in the outdoor bar, your eyes thoroughly scanned the miniature, azure pamphlet on the counter which contained a curated list of cocktails, and other beverages to indulge oneself in.

“If you’re having trouble choosing a drink, I highly suggest our signature cocktail ‘Sunset Dreams’! I can turn it into a mocktail if you’re not interested in alcohol.”

Looking up from the menu, and at the owner of the buoyant voice from behind the counter, you were greeted with a radiant smile that reached his eyes as though he was the epitome of sunshine; his spiky, orange hair that mirrored hues of the sky were not easy to miss, standing out against the neutral colours of his clothes—a beige linen button up shirt that had a few buttons loose, paired with ivory shorts.

The man held a metallic cocktail shaker, vigorously shaking it above his shoulder with both hands a few times before pouring its contents into a chilled highball glass, and sliding it over to a customer just a few seats down.

“So! What would it be for you?” He tapped the counter, returning in front of you before slightly leaning forward; he had an expectant look in his doe, chestnut brown eyes—a look which one, including yourself, couldn’t help but adore. You caught a glimpse of a small, golden nametag glimmering against the beige of his shirt—bold, ivory letters read ‘SHOYO’.

You contemplated his suggestion for a moment, “Okay. I think I’ll try the signature cocktail.” This earned a gleeful expression from the bartender, eagerly nodding at your choice of drink, “Good, good! You’re gonna love it! I’m Shoyo, your bartender for the night. If you need anything, just call out my name, and I’ll be there!” He pointed a finger at his name tag before working on the signature cocktail.

Smiling to yourself, you felt at ease being serviced by such a lively individual; Shoyo cheerfully greeted, and bid customers goodbye every now, and then—you subtly watched him do his job though he was part of a live entertainment.

A few minutes later, Shoyo sets a pretty, gradient cocktail before you, “One Sunset Dreams for you. Enjoy! Call me over if there’s anything you need!” Giving the bartender a warm thanks, you admired the beverage, it imitated colours of the sunset—a vibrant hue of red sitting on the base which gradually faded into a light cotton candy pink topped with two cherries on a swizzle stick, and a straw.

You didn’t hesitate to pull your phone out, and quickly snap a few photos to send to the group chat, instantly earning a thread of replies from Hitoka gushing about how amazing it looked. Before you could properly take a sip of your cocktail, Shoyo’s radiant voice filled your ears as he greeted an oncoming customer,

“Heeey, Kageyama! I haven’t seen you all week!”

At the mention of the surfer’s name, your ears unabashedly perk up. Sure, there were probably thousands—if not hundreds—of other Kageyamas out there but you only knew one person with that name, and he happened to be standing just two seats away from where you sat. His raven strands were damp, glistening beneath the golden sunset rays; he donned a plain white tee, and blue boardshorts which had no business making your heart pound like crazy.

The chances of meeting Kageyama here weren’t exactly slim given his job but you didn’t entirely expect to meet him here, let alone make friends with the beach club’s lively bartender—you didn’t make him out to be a person to regularly attend places like this.

As if he sensed your curious gaze, Kageyama looked to the side, navy blue eyes meeting your own. You waved—you fucking waved at him like he was an old friend who was here to meet with you; embarrassment gnawed at your skin, warmth creeping up from the sides neck of your neck, and onto your cheeks, resembling small, sharp kisses.

To your surprise, Kageyama dipped his chin in return before sauntering over to the vacant seat beside yours. “You two know each other?” Shoyo mused, brown eyes shifting between you, and Kageyama. The latter bluntly shook his head before pointing a thumb at you, “Had them for a beginner’s class earlier today.” You nodded at Kageyama’s reply.

“Also, just the usual mocktail for me.” The taller male added, taking a seat next to you, completely catching you off guard—you didn’t expect him to actually sit next to you but hey, maybe this was the universe’s sign to get to know the man better; how? You were about to find out for yourself. Shoyo returned a bright response, saluting at his friend before getting to work.

Despite the lively atmosphere of the poolside with distant chatters, and soft beats playing on the speakers, the air between you, and Kageyama turned awkward pretty quickly. Talk to him. Talk to him. Talk to him, your mind screamed but all you could do at the moment was take a long sip of your cocktail—maybe getting a bit of liquid courage would help you in this dire situation, after all, as they said, a little goes a long way.

Awkwardly clearing your throat, you spoke up, “So . . What made you interested in surfing?” Good. This was a good conversation starter; you mentally gave yourself a pat on the back for quickly coming up with a question before the atmosphere got too silent, and uncomfortable to talk in. Kageyama met your eyes, cool gaze bringing an icy shiver down your spine; his dulcet voice engulfed your ears as he explained about his love for the sport.

Surprisingly, he had a whole lot to say about surfing��not that you were complaining, you listened to every word that slipped past his lips. You keenly watched how his relaxed expression gradually turned into something more passionate the more he talked about his job—eyes gleaming with pure enthusiasm, and the corners of his lips subtly curling upwards, it was adorable.

“Sorry. Did I bore you? I kind of went on a tangent there.” Kageyama sheepishly scratched his nape. “No, not at all! It was interesting to hear about it, really . . I think you’re really cute.”

Oh god.

Oh my fucking god. That wasn’t supposed to slip out.

Now would be a really good time for the ground to swallow you whole. Though, the only thing swallowing you whole was embarrassment, and to make matters worse, Kageyama wordlessly blinked at you with the most blank expression known to man—you were unsure whether it didn’t phase him at all or he just decided to ignore your blatant flirting altogether. Whatever the reason was, you were better off not knowing.

You could practically see the gears turning in his head as soon as the sentence slipped out. Though, in Kageyama’s defence, he didn’t know whether you were flirting with him or plainly just complimenting him—sure, he also found you cute but would it be weird if he said it back, and you just meant yours as a compliment, nothing more?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Kageyama was overthinking this whole conversation a little too much, he needed to give a response before it becomes unbearably awkward—

“Oh—um, thanks . . I think you’re cute too.” He practically mumbled the last part of his sentence but whatever, he wasn’t going to repeat it again, not when his cheeks turned awfully warm, and his heart skipped a beat or two. Kageyama tried his best to break eye contact but god he just couldn’t; he found your eyes beautiful, the way they shone beneath the warm glow of the sunset.

Maybe you were just being extremely delusional but did you hear Kageyama’s words correctly? He thinks you’re cute as well? Nonetheless, it gave you a boost of confidence, an invitation to shoot your shot, and see wherever it takes you. The raven-haired man subtly squirmed in his seat, deep blue eyes boring into your own; a small blanket of pink coating his cheeks

Was it just him or it felt really, really hot today? Even though the sun had dipped into the horizon, Kageyama felt like he was right beneath its scorching rays—all of a sudden his body felt uncomfortably hot, he felt sharp prickles kissing down his neck, and onto his chest. Kageyama had never felt this hot, and bothered under someone’s presence before—not to mention the growing sensation deep in his core. He felt pathetic, really, being all turned on from just a little flirting; if your words affected him this much, Kageyama wondered how he’d act underneath your touch.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Not the appropriate thought to think about right now.

He mentally cursed his mind for wandering to such impure thoughts rather too quickly because clearly it did nothing but further fuel the shameful feeling growing inside him—carnal desire. Oh, this was absolutely embarrassing on his end, it hasn’t even been at least ten minutes in your presence, and yet he’s getting needier by the minute.

Earlier, Kageyama was lucky enough that he was engrossed in the lesson, and therefore wasn’t too distracted by your presence—all he got was a pounding heart whenever he held your clothed body but that was just about it. Plus, Kageyama wasn’t one to muck around during his job since the safety of the class depended on him, he couldn’t afford some petty distraction, even if it meant pushing down his innocent feelings.

Though, Kageyama wondered if the feelings he had right now could be even called innocent.

As the raven-haired male squirmed in his seat once again, you caught a glimpse of the growing hardness between his thighs, the thin fabric of his shorts did so little to hide the tent at the apex of his legs—you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit to squeezing your legs at the sight.

It was barely above a whisper but Kageyama heard it just fine, a faint ‘I can help you with that.’

Maybe it was the alcohol talking but truthfully, you haven’t even finished your glass of cocktail, and it wasn’t even enough to get you tipsy—the next thing you knew, your thoughts swiftly flew out of your mouth before being able to stop yourself.

He gulped, nails digging into his palms at the erotic sight he just envisioned in his mind. Oh, god. Was this really happening right now? Did you just offer to help him with his growing erection? Kageyama’s throat felt dry. Where the fuck was Hinata with the drink he ordered? Why was he taking so long to make it? The whole situation felt surreal—a wet dream—too good to be true; he felt dizzy, and it didn’t stop there when he responded equally quietly.

If Kageyama was being honest, he didn’t hear his own words over the buzzing of his ear, and the thumping of his heart—all he knew was that it must’ve been a damn good response with your eyes widening, and lips curling up into a seductive smile, one that had his cock throbbing beneath his shorts.

It was all a daze from there, the rush of pure desire coursing through his veins, the spinning of his head; Kageyama vaguely remembered Hinata calling out to the both of you, assuming his mocktail was ready for him but he didn’t bat an eye, a mere beverage would simply do nothing to satiate the thirst he harboured—Kageyama needed you, only you could quench this growing ache between his legs.

Kageyama’s feet felt light against the pavement beneath, his flip flops scraping against it with every uncomfortable step taken. Hues of the fading sunset engulfed his mind, pretty pinks, and oranges slowly turned deep blue as you walked back to your accommodation—it was only a five-minute walk but god it felt like an eternity.

Your lips were on his as soon as the door to your room slammed shut, you swore the walls shook from impact but whatever, it was none of your concern. Kageyama’s lean arms caged you as your back hit the soft mattress beneath, fingers digging into the sheets at the dizzying kiss; no one has kissed him with this much drive, and passion before, the way your soft lips eagerly moved against his own, guiding him with each searing kiss.

Soft moans, and grunts slipped from Kageyama’s throat in between kisses, the sheer intensity from it was enough to make him cum untouched right then, and there; he could practically feel his body vibrating with lust—fuck, he couldn’t even think properly with the way your hands caressed his body up, and down, up, and down before sliding them under his ivory shirt, and gently clawing at his bare skin.

Heaven. Absolute heaven.

Kageyama moaned into your mouth at the feeling of your nails scraping his sensitive skin, trails of goosebumps forming beneath your sinful touch. And as he opened his eyes to meet your gaze, tears quickly pooled around them—from what? Kageyama didn’t know. Maybe it was from sexual frustration, maybe it was from the heavenly feeling of your nails, or maybe it was how each blissful emotion hit him like a truck, and took the air out of his lungs.

Momentarily pulling away from the kiss, Kageyama breathed out a string of incoherent words, a look of uncertainty crossing his crimson-painted face. “What—what was that?” You let out soft pants, dropping your head on the pillow beneath as you cupped his warm cheeks,

“I’m—I haven’t done this before . . I’m a virgin.”

You blinked up at him.

There was a slight pause—a heartbeat—as Kageyama’s confession lingered in the thick, warm air of the room; sweat already lined his forehead, raven strands sticking to his skin. “I’m sorry—Are you turned off?” He quickly peeled himself from your body, a rush of faint coolness momentarily engulfing you from his lack of presence. Kageyama sat on his knees, a bashful look painted on his face.

Quickly sitting up to cup his face, you shook your head, “No, no! Not at all . . Did you want us to stop? I don’t mind at all.” Now, it was Kageyama’s turn to vigorously shake his head, “No. I—I want to do it with you.” He breathed out, eyes glazed with pure lust.

You clenched your cunt at his words—just the thought of taking someone’s virginity, let alone Kageyama’s it felt like a whole lot of expectation had been placed on your shoulders but you weren’t backing down now, not at all, you were going to give him the most earth-shattering first time with how much trust he gave you.

“Take off your clothes, and lie on the bed.” As though time was of the essence, Kageyama hastily stripped his top off, shamelessly flinging it somewhere in the room. Your eyes keenly watched as his thumbs dipped beneath the waistband of his raven shorts, slowly dragging it down the length of his long legs ‘til it pooled around his ankles.

Kageyama wordlessly looked up at you, the fabric of his underwear still on him, cock painfully straining against it with a noticeable wet spot. “All of your clothes.” You added. The male’s cheeks warmed before shyly slipping it off, hard cock bouncing against the tufts of raven hair on his stomach, it shamelessly leaked of pre-cum, beads of pearlescent liquid sat prettily on his red tip.

“Good. Now, on the bed.” An icy shiver ran up his spine at the purr of your voice, velvety, and low as you pat the empty space next to you. As Kageyama situated himself on the bed, his bare back flush against the wooden headboard, he watched as you stood at the foot of the bed, hands slowly coming up to strip yourself.

What a tease.

Kageyama watched with eager eyes as each article of clothing slipped off your skin, Adam’s apple bobbing with each noticeable gulp—fuck, you looked divine; his hands ached to pleasure himself, fuck his cock on his fist as he watched you deftly unclasp your bra. Cursing beneath his breath, his gaze traced over your naked chest, eyes circling over your pert nipples, and down the valley of it. He was practically drooling at this point, rosy lips parted in complete awe at your raw beauty.

Oh, how he wanted to touch you so bad, roam his large hands all over your body, and squeeze, and rub at parts he’s never held before. Kageyama’s mind went absolutely wild, he wondered what your moans would sound like under his touch; would you enjoy his fingers on your sensitive clit? Moan his name out into oblivion? Cum on his hand?

You crawled up the mattress, situating yourself between his parted legs, just before his hard cock. Kageyama waited for your next move with a bated breath, toned chest heaving up, and down with anticipation, his hands gripping the ivory sheets beneath.

Deep, blue eyes widened as you curled over yourself, coming face to face with his dick; oh, you just knew that length would absolutely do wonders inside you. Kageyama bit his lip, stiffening underneath your touch as you circled a hand around his cock, languidly dragging it up to his tip to spread pre-cum down his shaft. Kageyama melted like putty at the first stroke, his head unceremoniously resting on the wall behind as pleasure consumed his body at the speed of lightning— he could already feel the building pressure in the pit of his stomach.

“Ah!—Fuck. T-that feels so, so good.” Kageyama moaned to the ceiling, his voice was airy, and light, a clear sign of pure bliss completely taking over his sanity. He’s never been touched by anyone before so this was a foreign experience for him; it felt different from when he pleasured himself with his own hands—your touch drove Kageyama to madness, and he was absolutely addicted to it.

Satisfied with his reaction, you picked up the pace, and brought another hand down to gently massage his balls which earned a loud whine of your name. Oh, fuck. Kageyama was floating on cloud nine, and this was only pleasure from your hands, what more if it was your wet cunt? Would he even last sheathed deep in your velvety walls? He doubted it.

As the pace picked up, Kageyama’s moans also grew in volume, his stomach clenched, and unclenched at the sheer pleasure that consumed his whole body, all because of your hands. “Fuck! Fuck! Fu—I’m cumming!” The raven-haired male let out a wanton moan, eyes closed shut, knuckles white, and muscles taut as the knot inside his stomach finally snapped. Pure bliss rocked through Kageyama’s body like never before, as though he was engulfed in a million pleasurable kisses.

White, hot ribbons of cum shamelessly spurted from his cock which coated your fingers, and wrist. Kageyama slumped against the headboard, all fucked out, and covered by a light sheen of sweat; his lips were parted as he desperately chased oxygen,

“Want you—I need you. Please . .” Kageyama panted, his lustful gaze locked onto your own; even though he just orgasmed, his cock was still rock hard. How needy. His breath hitched at the lewd sight before him as you languidly licked a long stripe up your wrist, gathering his cum on the tip of your tongue, and eagerly swallowing his essence down. It was like Kageyama’s brain short circuited—he’s only ever seen this sight on his laptop screen during sleepless nights, never did he think he’d see his own cum licked, and swallowed from one’s hand.

Was it possible to faint from such a sinful sight?

Sitting up, you inched closer to Kageyama’s lap, thighs on either side of his slim waist, and clothed cunt hovering his cockhead. With keen eyes, the raven-haired watched as you deftly pushed your panties aside, catching a glimpse of your glistening cunt. He licked his lips as though he was a predator silently stalking his prey, waiting to pounce. Kageyama wondered what you’d taste like on his tongue, your sweet slick smeared all over his mouth, and chin—he could only fantasise.

The violent thrumming of his heart filled his ears as he watched you shift your weight over his lap; this was really happening—Kageyama was about to lose his virginity. He felt a rush of every single emotion from A to Z, all things good but mixed with a bit of nervousness; what if he couldn’t satisfy you enough? What if he accidentally cummed way too soon? What if—

“Ohhhhh—fuck! Ngh—ah!” Kageyama violently threw his head back against the wall, fists gripping the sheets below as you slowly inched down his red tip. Oh god. Oh god. You hugged him so, so tightly, your cunt felt hot, and wet around him but in a good kind of way; he let out short breaths, his chest quickly heaving up, and down as he tried his best to ground himself. It was like his sanity snapped in a split second as soon as you made raw contact with his dick—this feeling was beyond cloud nine, as though he was one with the cosmos.

You bit your lip at his pornographic sounds, letting out low whimpers as Kageyama’s cock desperately twitched inside you. With your hands gripping his bare shoulders, you slowly inched down his cock, grounding yourself as the head kissed intimate parts of you that no one has ever reached. A unison of heavy pants filled the thick air after bottoming out; you momentarily stilled, giving yourself ample time to get used to Kageyama’s length because fuck it drove you absolutely insane.

“P-please move. Need more, please . .” He whined, desperately moving his hips beneath your weight, causing his tip to momentarily brush against your g-spot ever so slightly. Moaning at the contact, a string of colourful curses slipped past your lips, toes curling at the sudden wave of pleasure.

Without wasting any more time, you lifted your hips all the way up to his tip before slamming back down, earning muttered curses of your name from Kageyama. His hands immediately flew to your hips as a way to ground himself, as though holding onto anything else would immediately deprive him of this heavenly bliss.

Soft, wet squelches bounced off the walls with every languid roll of your hips, Kageyama couldn’t peel his eyes away from where to two of you connected—it was wet, and slippery, glistening from all your arousal; everything felt so sinful that it made his head spin, not the mention the bounce of your breasts with each movement of your hips. Every moan that slipped past your lips went straight to Kageyama’s cock, he was the one making you moan this loud, not to mention the look on your face—hooded eyes, and lips parted to chant his name every now, and then; pride blossomed in his chest.

Shared pleasure ate away at your bodies like a rabid animal, gnawing at your skin with nothing to stop it ‘til it reached your bones—it was immense, a toe-curling sensation with every relentless bounce of your hips; the way Kageyama’s cock repeatedly kissed your g-spot, the way your velvety walls sinfully wrapped around him like it was meant to be. Your thighs burned with exhaustion, a mix of pain, and pleasure completely taking over your body but you didn’t stop—you didn’t want to, not when Kageyama felt this amazing inside you.

You could tell the raven-haired was getting more, and more greedy for pleasure from how his nails painfully dug into your sweaty skin, the subtle upward thrust of his hips to meet your own, taking him even deeper into your wet heat. Heavy balls slapping onto your ass fuelled your desire further, the slight burn of it had you clenching around him.

“Ah!—Kageyama! Ohhhh fuck! You’re so deep . .” He closed his eyes at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue, voice as sweet as honey. Kageyama wondered if he could be a little more greedy, “Tobio—ngh! Call me Tobio.” He panted. It took all of his sanity to string the short sentence together, Kageyama couldn’t even hear himself over the loud skin slapping mixed with your endless whines.

Vigorously nodding, you moaned his name, “Tobio! Mhm—You gonna cum for me? Yeah?” It was Kageyama’s turn to nod at your gasped words, eyes momentarily screwing shut at its effect on him.

He wasn’t going to last any longer after just cumming his brains out from your hands a few minutes ago. “Oh, god!—Can I cum inside you? Please? Fuck, I want to stuff you full of my cum—ngh!” Words spilled from Kageyama’s mouth, blabbering out any coherent thought that came to mind. Truthfully, he’s always fantasised cumming inside someone, the feeling of emptying his balls, and shooting his thick load while sheathed deep inside was probably his biggest dirty secret—and he just shamelessly bared it to you.

“Yes—ah! Stuff me full of your cum, Tobio! Want your cum deep inside me, please.”

The desperation in your voice was all it took for Kageyama to snap, his fingers clawed at your hips as he painted your walls white, body stiffening under the immense pressure of pleasure. It didn’t help how your cunt gripped him like a vice, pulling him further, and further down the rabbit hole called bliss. You came with a loud moan of his name, curling over yourself, sweaty forehead resting on Kageyama’s bare chest as you desperately rode out your orgasms.

Both of you stayed still for a moment to catch your breaths, the sticky, uncomfortable feeling of warmth slowly engulfed your bodies as the high wore off. Kageyama didn’t even do much but he was absolutely spent, and drenched in sweat, he could only imagine your state, especially your thighs from all that bouncing.

“A-are you okay? That was—that was amazing . .” Dulcet voice sliced through the thick air, it earned a chuckle from you, you could only return a weak nod at his concern, your body too heavy to even move an inch. Kageyama’s soft breathing slowly pulled your to the borders of sleep but the summer heat against your skin was unbearable,

You mustered every strength to peel yourself off of him, “Shower with me?” Your lips wickedly curled upwards, hands gently caressing Kageyama’s bare chest. What a temptress.

Suddenly, he didn’t feel tired anymore. —

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum !

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girldadfromvegas · 2 months ago

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Taylor Swift - A Force For Good

Up until recently, I was not a Taylor Swift fan. Never listened to any of her albums. But then… I came to Vancouver last weekend because my wife’s birthday wish was to take our two daughters to a Taylor Swift concert before the Eras tour was over. So we put a small group together, got concert tickets, a flight and hotel rooms near the concert venue - BC Place. We left the entertainment CAPITAL of the world to see the greatest entertainment CAPITALIST in the world. When I first heard about Taylor’s earnings from the Era’s Tour, I was confounded by the fact that she personally earns $10 - $13 million PER show. That’s ~$72,000 per minute (of her 3-hour performance). Beyond-belief money. On the way to the hotel in Vancouver, the driver told us that Taylor is expected to generate $150,000,000 of economic impact in Vancouver for the three shows she is doing this weekend. 180,000 people like me (well not really looking like me) will flock to see Taylor and send her off in the grand finale of a two year long, 150 shows-long Eras Tour. And you know what? She deserves every single penny and every ounce of praise for what she is and what she does. Her impact is much bigger than financial. We walked the streets of a foreign city, watching my girls exchange friendship bracelets with complete strangers. Smiling and giggling every step of the way. We watched as an old-world clock powered by steam, at certain times of day played the sound of Shake It Off, in steam. We saw how much admiration her fans pour into the city. It’s so real, so passionate and so beautiful. Total love-fest. And what about the show itself? Holy mother. It’s not just the vocals. Those alone are worth the ticket price. It’s… Her movements. Her costumes. Her versatility. Her sultry vibe one moment transitioning to a girl-next-door piece, a song later. Her masterful, solo acoustic guitar and piano renditions. Her messages of positivity. The most astonishing part is that she wrote every single one of the 47 songs that she sang. Taylor Swift is a phenom. A role model for young people. She is probably the greatest singer, song-writer and performer of our lifetime. We are so fortunate to have been able to see her and experience an Era’s Tour show. This world is a better place because of @taylorswift!

#taylor swift #taylornation #the eras tour

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leighsartworks216 · 2 months ago

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Scar Tissue

Sylus x gn!Reader

Eyyyyy @comatosebunny09 I finally finished it >:3

Based on this post

Title from "Scar Tissue" by Red Hot Chili Peppers

Warnings: cuddling, early relationship, intimacy, injury, guns, knives, semi-nudity

Word Count: 2,421

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

The Raven Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“Speak.”

The generic carpet muffles his footfalls as he crosses the room to the oversized floor to ceiling windows that peer out over Chansia City. You follow behind him until you get to the dresser, lined neatly with your clothes.

The hotel is very nice, especially high up here in the presidential suite. Though, you haven’t had much time to actually enjoy it. You got here yesterday, and it feels like all you’ve had time for is sleeping and getting dressed. It’s all been meetings, deals and exchanges otherwise. The only reason you’re back here at all is to change clothes to go to dinner with another client.

Sylus sighs, irritation painting his face with a scowl. You can just barely hear Luke’s voice on the other end. They’ve been holding down the N109 Zone in Sylus’s absence. “More petty land grabs?”

“Nah, from what we’ve heard it sounds like an affair came to light and now they’re duking it out to win their love.”

You snicker as you pull out a clean shirt. You turn and drop it on the bed, back to Sylus as you take off your shirt, bloody and torn from your earlier meeting. He turns to shoot you a half-amused half-annoyed glance over his shoulder. “Have Mephisto-”

But the words get stuck in his throat. Time seems to slow down as he stares at the bare expanse of your back. Your skin looks like a well-used cutting board. Scar after scar, criss-crossing over each other, fundamentally altering the appearance of your flesh for years to come.

He can pinpoint which were from missions he’d sent you on. Jobs that put you in the line of fire, where you had to fight your way out to survive, where someone got a surprise jump on you.

Others are completely foreign. Cuts and bullet wounds and burn marks, all unfamiliar to him. What secrets from your past do you keep locked away from him? How safe are you from the ones that hurt you? Would you ever tell him if something was wrong? If something cropped up from back then, from a time he’d never know enough of? Perhaps not.

Somehow, the former was worse. Knowing he was the one that sent you into trouble. Or those damn injuries you earned from taking a hit intended for him. Being the root cause for your pain aches more than never knowing the damage you incurred before.

You slip your shirt on, hiding the marks from view, and peek over your shoulder at him, confused by his silence. Time speeds back up.

He schools his features into something neutral, hiding the regret and hurt, and burying it deep down within him. He looks out the windows once more. Luke asks if he’s alright. Sylus ignores it, speaking as if nothing ever happened.

Dinner was dull, for the most part. The client didn’t seem to understand that you weren’t there for conversation, repeatedly prompting you to answer questions. You’d have signaled Sylus to put the man in his place, but it was all too amusing to see him flounder.

“What kind of gun do you use?” You’d slipped it from its holder mid sip of wine and dropped it onto the table with a heavy thud. That’d taken him by surprise. He recovered quickly enough, spewing off facts about the make and model that you already knew.

“Has it been modified?” You broke it down and separated the parts that had been replaced or enhanced. He’d curiously reached out to inspect them, but you put it back together before he could touch anything. He paused, but put on a slightly strained, polite smile as he awkwardly sat back in his chair.

“How good is your aim?” You shot the end of his cigarette when he went to tap the ashes into a dish, scaring him so bad he shook the entire table and had to rapidly keep his drink from tipping into his lap.

He seemed content to leave you be after that.

You fall back into the bed, arms spread out wide and still in your dinner attire. Sylus chuckles. “Have fun?” he teases. He sits down beside you, leaning on his arm with an amused grin.

You shoot an unimpressed glare his way. Fabric rustles as you slide your hand along the bed to hold his arm, caressing the tensed muscles of his forearm. “Don’t worry, you can make it up to me.”

His grin turns into a salacious smirk. You smack his bicep. “Not like that.”

“You don’t know what I was going to suggest.” Nonetheless, he kicks off his shoes by the side of the bed and lays down beside you. With one hand acting as a pillow, the other rests comfortably on your stomach. You wrap your arm around his neck to play with his hair. Content, you close your eyes.

The last vestiges of the sun filter through the window. Combined with the few lights in the room, you look… peaceful. It’s starting to become a common sight, and he takes great pleasure in being the one allowed to witness it. These times when you trust him enough to relax. When you stop listening out for the slightest hint of danger. When your body releases the tension constantly preparing your body for an attack. It’s a privilege. He hopes never to take it for granted.

Your fingers flit lazily through his hair. His body still tenses on the onset of your touch. His natural instinct yells for him to pull away, go on the defensive, protect himself. It’s always a battle to fight against them and allow himself to completely trust someone. As this - cuddling together, the small moments of physical intimacy and skinship - become the normal, the fight gets easier and easier.

He wonders if that same defensive instinct wars on in your head when he slips his hand under the hem of your shirt. The first brush of his fingers on your flesh, the flinch of muscle away from the contact, that eases back into his touch after a pause. If it does, you say nothing of it. Rather, when your stomach flinches away, you tug on his hair. An equal exchange. And perhaps a reminder of the lengths you have both gone to expose yourselves to each other.

Calloused fingertips dance across your belly, hidden by the fabric of your shirt. Soft ridges and toughened skin of layers of damage done across the years. His mind is shot back to the thoughts he had earlier. You can feel the shift in his touch. The way his fingers lift to barely ghost over your skin, as though you’re as thin and fragile as wet tissue paper. You open your eyes to watch him.

His face is stern. Like when discussing a difficult deal, his brow is furrowed and his eyes are dark. He slowly pushes up the shirt until it rests in a rumpled heap around the bottom of your ribcage. The shift in your breathing latches on at the edge of his senses. Just as with your back, scar after scar decorates your skin. But one stands out from the rest.

Along the line of your hip is a cut. It’s shallow. The skin it tore apart is irritated from lack of care and not having a moment to rest properly.

That’s his fault, too. Dragging you out to a dinner you didn’t really want to go to instead of giving you the opportunity to sleep and heal. Technically, you’re his bodyguard - his guard dog, always by his side, defending him from anyone who you deem a threat. Yet, he’s discomfited by just how quickly you step in to protect him. That’s what this scar is the result of.

The meeting this morning. A fight broke out. He was aiming a gun at the other group leader. One of their lackeys came up from the side with a knife. And you got hit. It had bled, but you’d brushed him off so easily when he mentioned it. You weren’t doubled over, nor were you in a rush to patch it up, so he trusted your judgement. Without a second thought.

Fortunately, your judgement is dependable. All it really needs is a bandage to keep the skin together and bacteria out while it heals, and yet he doesn’t get up. He doesn’t move. All he does is trace alongside it, feeling how it becomes intertwined with the scars before it.

“You need to take better care of yourself,” he says, but the tone of his voice is odd. Teasing, edged with something raw. Something more vulnerable. Something that you two have been dancing around for weeks. “Tell me the next time you’re hurt. I’ll patch you up.”

You brush the hair from his face. His red eyes shift first to the bunched up fabric of your shirt, then to yours. His eyes are soft. The deep maroon of before has melted into a bloody crimson.

“I can patch myself up.”

He scoffs with a smirk and the slight tilt of his head. “I wasn’t asking, sweetie.”

You quirk a brow up at him. “Does it bother you?”

“Yeah,” he agrees readily.

Your fingers falter. He brushes his thumb more firmly along the edge of the cut, still light enough that it doesn’t hurt, but with enough force that it no longer feels like he’s treating you like something fragile.

You frown at him, tapping three times at the base of his skull, a silent request for more information. He pushes himself up onto his elbow. It should be salacious, even intimidating, for him to hover over you like this. But it’s not.

His eyes follow his hand as he traces other marks on your belly. A bullet entrance wound here, a Wanderer’s blade there. The ones he caresses are newer. They haven’t yet faded into your skin. Of all of them, he’d only helped treat one or two. Some, he never even knew about, but he could trace back to when, what mission, they were received from.

“How many of these are from protecting me?” he asks lowly. “You do realize I can heal from all of these much faster than you can, don’t you, sweetie?”

You tilt your head. “It bothers you… that I do my job?”

He chuckles, but the mirth doesn’t reach his eyes. “You could stand to be a little less efficient at it.”

The world falls quiet. The sun disappears, leaving darkness in her wake. The orange glow of the hotel lamps forms mountains and valleys along your skin. You study him, searching for answers.

Over your lifetime struggling to survive, you’d gotten good at reading people, Sylus included. Of course, he had broken your assumptions and expectations. If he hadn’t, you’d never have let him get so close. Never have allowed him to touch you like this, see your skin like this.

Right now, you can’t understand him.

He hired you to be his bodyguard, to protect him. To be his own personal shield when shit hits the fan. But he doesn’t want you to? A lingering fear in your mind worries for the end of your partnership. Would he really touch you like this if he wanted to fire you? Besides, when you made the damn deal, he said only you would have the power to call it off. He wasn’t someone to go against his word.

You drop your hand from his hair. His eyes snap to you, a flicker of fear that is snuffed out when you touch his chest. He’s still wearing his nice dress shirt, jacket discarded elsewhere. You play with one of the buttons. “How many times have you stepped in to protect me?” you ask.

Countless times. More and more frequently.

“Do you let any of them scar?”

He slowly shakes his head. It’s always second nature for him to use his Evol to take care of any and all injuries. Anything that could scar is gone before he has a chance to think about it, so long as he’s in the right conditions to use it.

“Then you can’t understand.”

He hums. “Enlighten me.”

You grin. Gliding your hand from his chest, down his arm, you hold the back of his where it rests on your stomach. It doesn’t take much effort to guide him. He watches, feels the scars that scrape by, as you bring it back back down to your hip, until his palm rests over the cut. It will heal within a couple of weeks, probably less. Once it’s healed, it will scar over. Once it scars over, it will be nothing more than a lasting memory embedded in your skin.

“They’re badges,” you say quietly. When he looks back up at you, you’re watching his hand, trailing your fingertips over the veins that decorate them. “I earned them from protecting you.”

So why would I not want them?

It goes unsaid, but he catches it anyway in the gentle reverence of your carress, the quirk of your brow when you look at him wordlessly asking if he can understand now. It doesn’t need to be said.

He slips his hand out from under yours. The bed shifts with his weight as he turns and gets up. You feel the loss immediately. It’s easy to hide the disappointment, but it churns over in your gut, more distinctly than you’ve ever felt it before, as he disappears around the corner of the wall. Did he really hate them so much?

He returns a minute later when you’re considering fixing your shirt with a medkit in hand. He sits on his knees, sets the kit down beside your body, and opens it up to get what he needs. The disinfectant stings as he wipes it along the cut, but you hardly feel it when he just looks so beautiful. So focused on taking care of you.

“Tell me when you're hurt,” he reminds you. He unspools a length of gauze and wraps it around your midsection securely. He glances at you with a slight grin as he grabs a roll of bandages from the kit. “They won’t scar well if they get infected first.”

A week later, you’re the one patching him up. He sits calmly on the couch as you draw a needle through the skin of his bicep. It’s just a knife wound. Earned from stepping in to protect you.

He can’t wait to see the scar.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip

#fanfic #fanfiction #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader

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theremustbeabear · 4 months ago

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a lot of monster media has a hard time with balancing making their monster incredibly dangerous but also keeping the most important characters alive without it seeming like obvious plot armour

but i think the terror does a really great job--not just because they do allow it to kill a number of important characters, but because of the composition of the two scenes where tuunbaq is beaten

the first, in ep 5, is when tuunbaq chases blanky up the foremast, which, on the surface, seems like a very obvious case of plot armour. tuunbaq kills several other crewmen with incredible ease in that very same scene, but then blanky is spared long enough to escape from it, simply because he's an important character.

but that's not what's going on there. all of the easy deaths, so far, prior to this, have occurred on tuunbaq's territory. on flat ground, on the ice, and now tuunbaq is staking its claim on terror. but terror is still occupied, and blanky, especially, is a man who is more at home on a ship than land. tuunbaq is beaten, here, because blanky is playing with a home turf advantage. blanky does have armour, but it's not because he's an important character--it's because tuunbaq has invaded the space where he's most comfortable, and so he goes up, to where he knows a bear can still follow him, but it'll be exposed, and too heavy to follow him all the way.

and this show has done a great job of setting the stakes, already, by this point--the first time i watched this scene, even though blanky was so far surviving the confrontation, i was incredibly sure that he wasn't going to make it out. i thought for certain that he was going to have to sacrifice himself in order for them to hit tuunbaq with the cannon, and so it was deeply satisfying when he actually survived. i was so fucking happy, because i was already starting to get sad about him being dead, even though he wasn't dead yet, lol. it feels earned, when he makes it out, and fair enough that he loses a leg in the process, too.

the second, in the final episode, is i think a bit more obvious, and considering how many other major characters get torn apart, it doesn't feel quite so much like crozier has plot armour. but tuunbaq is once again beaten by using the things that are not native to its land, that tuunbaq isn't designed to deal with. the sick and poisoned flesh of the seamen it's already consumed, for one, and then the boat chain.

and, for the second time, in order to beat tuunbaq, a limb must be sacrificed--crozier's hand, i think, counts, even though he loses it after the confrontation is long over, because blanky only loses his leg properly after the fact as well. and i think this can be brought around to how tuunbaq's shaman must remove their own tongue to communicate with it--if one wishes to have any sort of dominance over tuunbaq, a part of their body must be given in exchange. silna and her father give their tongues, blanky gives his leg, and crozier gives his hand.

and it is emphasized through hickey's failure that tuunbaq cannot be controlled by the expeditioners. the colonizers. it can be beaten back, and suppressed, and killed, through sacrifice, but it cannot be harnessed. it belongs to silna's people, to the inuit, and cannot truly be taken away. the only way to beat it is by invading its home with foreign powers and losing something of yourself in the process.

tl;dr thomas blanky doesn't need plot armour because he's just that good /silly and also this show is just. awesome.

#jupiter.txt #remus.txt #the terror #thomas blanky #francis crozier #tuunbaq #terror meta

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iridescana · 5 months ago

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₊˚⊹ ᰔ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚...𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡

.☘︎ ݁˖ 𝐬𝐲𝐧. 𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦'𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 ᥫ᭡. 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭. 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 ༯ 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑶𝑹𝑺 𝑫𝑵𝑰

...word count: 1.1k

...note from irene: don't ask.

nanami kento rests languidly on the edge of the bed, your back in his view as he graciously takes the mantle of an attentive husband.

“i literally can’t with you. you’re a natural at this stuff,” you huff, somewhere between a vent and a bout of praise that he found endearing nonetheless. he raises an eyebrow, albeit dazed by the hypnotic show of you being able to reach your own zipper - who’s a natural at what? you, who resumes your tirade with an obliviousness towards his wandering eyes, is a natural at enchanting him. your hair was blown out, almost reaching your shoulders in cloudy tufts - that had been the last mission of tonight, a hairstyle more laborious than the act of lifting weights. “you can easily get away with being stand-offish, which…i’m not saying you are but…”

he releases a soft chuckle, adjusting his cufflinks, “now, humor me for a second, my love. when have you ever seen me get defensive?”

“huh?” you tilt your head in confusion eyeing him expectantly through your reflection as you secure your earring.

“you don’t need to worry about insulting me, darling. i can take it. if you think i’m stand-offish, just say it.”

you briefly turn to face him, bestowing a histrionic look of indignation. “i wasn’t saying that! okay—” you raise your hands in surrender, “you are quite stoic. does that do you justice?”

he offers a hum, one of satisfaction, an invitation for you to continue to the point you had intended to make. and you do just that, bending over the vanity to apply your lip gloss as kento’s attention blithely averts to the curve of your ass. “so, yes. you could get away with what will earn me, at best, some auntie in the corner asking me if i’m okay like…please! i’m fine! i just wanna be left alone!”

he chuckles along with you again, silently basking in your mirthful exchange… until he notices it. within seconds. the brief drag of hesitation as you began working on your hair. your makeshift puff remains put, arms raised for your hands to take the temporary role of a hair tie and…

…oh dear.

you were staring at your underarms again. in acute disdain.

he needn’t say a word - this conundrum was as foreign to him as a blue sky. but you’ve only complained about it once, a main focus on the fruitlessness of your spending. all these regimens, remedies and receipts the length of the great wall of china for them to still be there - sizable splotches of pigmentation that you just can’t seem to get rid of, no matter how hard you try.

once, you’ve verbally lamented.

but more than once, you’d been reluctant to don anything without sleeves, participate in anything remotely related to summer - and if you did, not lifting your arms was the war you were prepared to die in. and tonight, well, you’d had the misfortune of learning life’s indifference. the thin straps of your silky, cream white dress were well in torturing you with a reminder.

a click of the tongue bounces off the walls of your bedroom, and kento tries to think less about how your beauty terrifies him, opting to soothe you with his adeptness in subtlety.

“darling,” he begins, standing to walk towards you, “i think you should wear your hair down.”

“hm, i think so too,” you smile warmly at him through your reflection, conducting his suggestion by letting go of your hair and instead opting to comb it out, “let’s just hope it doesn’t rain tonight. i honestly don’t get the appeal of outdoor parties.”

all that follows is a soft hum, one of admiration. truly, you are an angel sent from heaven. more than just the angelic glow of your skin under the vanity light, your smile - your soul - can account for that. he watches you, deftly pulling at your coils to maintain the perfect shape - watching you fruitlessly strive to perfect the one thing that has always been just that. you. perfect.

“what?” you meekly acknowledge his stare with a shy smile, halting your movements.

“my love,” he drags, moving close enough for his hands to reach your hips. your attention moves away from your hair, prompting you to put your comb down and heed the sensation of his chest meeting your back. kento’s hands are calculated, a dexterous trace of your curves striving for a different kind of tenor - a lead from one thing to a delectable other. he moves his lips towards your ear, hazel eyes meeting yours through the mirror in a wordless declaration of unabashed desire. “you know that every inch of you is perfect, right?”

you shiver, at your best to conceal your want to reciprocate by scoffing playfully, “fancy, i’ve never pegged you for the corny type.”

“i mean it,” he rejoins, ignoring your jest, softly kissing the shell of your ear before he performs the unexpected, a hand moving to gently grab your wrist, lifting your arm up above your head. “every…inch.”

oh.

he really means it.

heat rises to your cheeks, noting how observant he had been towards your behavior earlier - this wasn’t new to you. you could stain a white shirt with pasta sauce and he’d counter your dismay by saying that it should’ve been there when you first bought it. he’d praise any part of you from head to toe. that realization had been made many moons ago. now, as all attention falls upon your exposed underarm, you forgo the need to protest, keeping your arm raised and resting your hand on the back of your husband’s head, fingertips blissfully pricked by the sharpness of his undercut.

“mmm…every inch, you say?” you murmur with feigned cynicism, a grin rising as Kento’s hand gently slides down the tricep of your raised arm.

“mhm…every…inch” your heartbeat is the toms of an acoustic drum set, as he reaches your underarm, lightly grazing the skin with his fingertips, prompting you to shiver at the ticklish sensation. “god, you’re breathtaking…”

he breathes it out like it’s the first time, and the sight before you is…sinful? a burlesque plays out in your reflection, a hand sensually caressing your hip whilst the other continues to draw reverent patterns on the area you’ve detested for eons. your husband, so fucking handsome, buries his face in crook of your neck, inspiring every last bit of your scent, and you still can’t help but huff in amusement, “hm, my black armpits were the ones to bring you to that revelation?”

“you amuse me, my love,” is the muffled, half dismissal towards your counter, followed by a kiss on your neck, “now, let me enjoy you.”

you giggle softly, meek at how your husband's brief praise towards your underarm has ever so slightly titillated you, “we’re gonna be late, you know…”

he perks up, privy to the suggestion you so dared to make, “if memory serves me correctly, it’s you who fails to see the appeal in these outdoor parties.”

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #nanami x reader #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x you #nanami smut #nanami fluff #nanami x y/n #nanami x black!reader #nanami x black y/n #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk scenarios #jjk x black reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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the-badger-mole · 10 months ago

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Father of the Bride

Hakoda swallowed hard against a lump in his throat. He had imagined this day so many times since Katara's birth. The details were different, though. She wasn't marrying a proven warrior from among their people. That was fine. She had spent so much time traveling the world, expanding her horizons, creating her own paths. Hakoda didn't think there were one in a thousand men at home who could keep up with the woman his daughter had become, and he had resigned himself to the fact that she might not end up with a Southern Tribe man years ago.

But he hadn't considered that her marriage might take her so permanently from home. A foolish oversight on his part, he admitted. And at least she would have the means to visit her family a few times a year. Still, he felt a pang. Same one he felt when he left his children behind with Kanna to go fight a war too big for him. Now that pang was tempered with bittersweet happiness as he watched the final preparations being made on Katara's wedding gown-a stunning piece of art even to Hakoda's untrained eye. All silks and linens in shades of blue and silver that recalled the bridal outfits of her homeland. Furs and leathers would be too hot for the climate, but Katara wanted to tell everyone up front how she would bring her own culture to merge with her new people. Her groom-to-be not only supported this decision, but had come to Hakoda and Sokka to ask them how he, too, could incorporate the Southern Water Tribe into the wedding on his end. That had been a long night, with strong drinks and stronger emotions, but at the end of it, Hakoda had decided that despite his initial misgivings about the marriage, he couldn't have picked a better son-in-law than Zuko.

Fire Lord Zuko. Fire Lord Zuko was going to be his son-in-law. Sometimes the thought made Hakoda chuckle. Sometimes it sent a chill down his spine. Not that he was worried about Zuko himself, but Katara's proximity to his throne. The crown. She would be coronated the next night in a ceremony as lavish as the wedding. She would become the Fire Lady. Co-ruler of the country that had spent a hundred years ruining countless lives with a war over something as silly as imperialist pride. Hakoda didn't think they deserved his daughter. If Zuko had earned his trust and respect, the rest of the Fire Nation certainly haven't. Not the nobles, anyway. When he brought them up to Katara, she laughed, though it didn't reach her eyes, which were flint hard and grimly determined. She told him no matter where she went in the world, she would have to fight for any respect she got. At least here she would have Zuko fighting beside her. Hakoda wasn't sure he agreed that was a worthy trade off, but he knew better than to try to talk his daughter out of it.

The Fire Nation had already benefited from her presence. As a foreign advisor, she had fostered trade and exchange agreements between the Fire Nation and all of the Water Tribes, Omashu and Gaoling. As an ambassador, she'd helped negotiate reparation packages that have helped the parts of the world hit hardest by the war recover. As one of Zuko's most trusted counselors, she'd helped him work the Fire Nation's budget so the government could provide for education, health and services for returning soldiers. The same kinds of programs she'd helped Hakoda and Sokka build in the Southern Water Tribe. It suddenly struck Hakoda that she had been acting as Fire Lady for a long time. Before she and Zuko had even realized they were in love, maybe. Today and tomorrow would just make it official. Hakoda still didn't think the Fire Nation deserved a Katara, but any chance he had of talking her out of it had long since slipped by him. And he now he wasn't sure he would talk her out of it, even if he did have the chance.

The final touches were done. The maids stepped back in a flurry of excited chatter. Kanna stepped forward, moving stiffly in her old age, smiling up at her granddaughter through tears. She had had this moment with Kya years ago, and Kya should be standing in her place now. Kanna reached out and ran her fingertips over the necklace she had passed to her daughter, and her daughter had passed on to Katara. Kya was here, Kanna assured herself. And Kya would be here with Katara as she made these next steps, first as a wife, then as a queen, then someday as a mother and grandmother herself.

"She would be so proud," Kanna told Katara. The two women embraced. Then Katara stood up, head high and looking as regal as any queen in any nation ever had, and turned to Hakoda.

"Are you ready, Dad?" she asked. Hakoda shook his head.

"I was never going to be ready for this," he confessed. "But it doesn't matter. You are ready."

#atla #zutara #fire lady katara #hakoda #father of the bride has a moment

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erwinrer · 3 months ago

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Vanishing Mongolia! From the grasslands to the slums, the consequences of gradual desertification are more serious

Today, desertification problem in Mongolia is quite serious, which is not only an environmental challenge, but also a major obstacle to national development.

Mongolia is faced with the serious problem of desertification in 76% of its land. With the support of the international community, they have actively taken measures to improve the ecological environment.

Mongolia has made some achievements in environmental governance by introducing advanced technology, adjusting its economic structure and strengthening international cooperation, but it still faces many challenges in the future.

Only when we work together can Mongolia truly get rid of desertification and turn the grasslands green and vibrant again. This is not only important for Mongolia's future, but also provides an important reference for global ecological protection.

Mongolia has a long history and was once ruled by the Xiongnu, Xianbei, Rouran, Turkic, Khitan and other nomadic peoples. The famous Genghis Khan was born here.

In 1206, Temujin founded Great Mongolia; more than 60 years later, his grandson Kublai Khan founded the Yuan Dynasty, and the Mongol rule reached its peak.

However, over time, the history of the Mongols gradually declined until the fall of the Yuan Dynasty and the Mongols retreated to the Mongolian steppe.

Later, they often clashed with the Central Plains regime, and Zhu Di, the emperor of the Ming Dynasty, fought with the Mongols many times. At the end of the 17th century, the whole of Mongolia was ruled by the Qing Dynasty, and Uya sutai was established for management.

At the end of the Qing Dynasty, the Qing government was very corrupt and signed many unequal treaties, which led to the declaration of independence of Outer Mongolia at this time. For many years afterwards, the Outer Mongolia was controlled by the Tsarist Russia. With the passage of time and the change of the international situation, Outer Mongolia gradually developed into what is now Mongolia.

Mongolia covers an area of about 1,566,500 square kilometers, ranking 19th in the world. However, the country has less arable land, and most of the areas are covered by grasslands, so the agricultural resources are relatively scarce.

Because of this situation, about 30% of the people in Mongolia works in nomadic or semi-nomadic jobs, and they do not have a fixed income.

Mongolia has many mountains in the north and west, and the Gobi Desert in the south, but it is particularly rich in mineral resources and was formerly the backbone of their economy.

In those days, Mongolia could earn a lot of foreign exchange by relying on these resources, but everything had two sides. Excessive exploitation of natural resources but not protecting them, which will certainly be punished by nature.

Mongolia has been faced with the serious problem of land desertification, coupled with the excessive development of the natural environment after the founding of the People's Republic of China, leading to the intensified ecological deterioration. At present, 76% of the land is being swallowed up by the desert.

Even the former grasslands have been replaced by slums. Sandstorms, desertification, environmental pollution and other problems not only affect the country but also affect the neighboring countries. Why does such a serious situation occur?

The Mongolian nationality is known as the "nation on horseback". Their lives are closely related to cattle and sheep. This way of life has lasted on the vast grassland for thousands of years.

Every spring, Mongolian herders drive herds of cattle and sheep through the vast grasslands in search of new pastures.

Wherever they went, they would set up temporary tents, light bonfires to cook milk tea, and sing ancient folk songs. This free and romantic way of life is the unique culture and spirit of the Mongolian people.

This lifestyle looks good on the surface, but there are hidden dangers. Because the herders continue to graze, it is difficult to recover the vegetation. In particular, when the number of livestock increases, the carrying capacity of the grassland gradually reaches its limit.

Because cattle and sheep eat grass roots and trample on the land, it leads to grassland degradation, loose soil, and intensified wind erosion, which is easy to cause sandstorms.

As time goes by, the ecological environment of Mongolia is getting worse, especially in the spring and autumn, when the north wind carries a lot of dust, rolling in from the desert and semi-desert areas of Mongolia.

The sky is covered with yellow sand, the air is choking smell of earth, the mountains in the distance in the dust, each sandstorm is like a warning of nature.

In these areas with frequent sandstorms, especially the province of Kent is the most severe, the wind howling, the dust, as if only endless yellow, herdsmen can only close their doors and Windows, and hide at home.

Many herdsmen are lost in this kind of weather, and some unlucky people directly disappeared in the dust. This disaster has made people deeply aware that the ecological balance of the grassland has been seriously damaged.

Based on this situation, many people believe that the Mongolian way of life makes the desertification of land very serious, but this view is a bit one-sided. Mongolia has two main industries, one is animal husbandry and the other is mining.

Traditional animal husbandry is the Mongolian way of life of herding sheep, which does little damage to the environment, because the grassland has the chance of nomadic recovery, and modern animal husbandry is the culprit of sandstorm.

Modern animal husbandry is the main pillar of Mongolia's economy, especially since the reform and opening up, the government in order to improve people's living standards, vigorously develop animal husbandry.

It used to be "nomadic", "grazing", the number of cattle and sheep is limited. Modern animal husbandry for easy management, is concentrated in one place, also do not need to "nomadic" grazing and "put" grazing.

Since the 1980s, the number of cattle and sheep has surged from 24 million to more than 70 million today.

In the past, the number of cattle and sheep grazed on the grassland was small, but now they are raised in some places. The number of cattle and sheep is several times higher. As a result, the area of the grassland is decreasing due to overgrazing.

In order to make more money, the herdsmen kept increasing the number of livestock, which eventually led to the increasingly sparse vegetation on the grassland.

Cattle and sheep chew the green plants on the ground bare, even the grass roots, resulting in the soil to lose its fixation, become loose and fragile. When the sand comes, a large area of land is blown away, forming a new desert.

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innerfare · 4 months ago

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Angsty Ace Headcanons

Summary: A collection of angsty Ace headcanons

Genre: Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

Ace never knew what his mother looked like, never even saw a photograph of her.

At a certain point, Ace wanted nothing more than to become the marine Garp wanted him to be. He wanted desperately to please his grandfather, a man who could have turned him over to the World Government in exchange for a nice reward and even promotion but chose instead to harbor him. And when Ace learned the truth about his biological father, when Ace realized the World Government would never accept him as one of their own no matter what Garp said, he went to the seashore and cried, forced to accept he would only ever draw the ire of the one man he wanted to please.

Ace always felt like a monster for beating Luffy. He had a very valid thought process: I have to make him stronger. But he still felt like he was doing something horribly wrong. The guilt stuck with him as he grew older, consuming him when he recalled the times he treated Luffy more like a brother than a son (parentification can be a bitch).

Ace only began valuing his life after Sabo died. He only did it because he thought he had to for Luffy’s sake. Without Luffy, he would have lost the will to live entirely, and on some level, he did lose the will to live when he met the Straw Hats and realized Luffy was taken care of without him. Rather than feeling peace at having fulfilled the promise he’d made to a deceased Sabo to care for their little brother, he felt a sense of failure because he wasn’t needed.

Ace once came across one of his father’s old wanted posters and, to his horror, recognized himself. Thus, he avoids his reflection at all costs. He’s been called attractive, but he doesn’t understand why because all he sees when he looks in the mirror is a monster. Burns his own wanted posters when he encounters them because he can’t stand the sight of himself.

Ace always shrugged it off, but deep down, he felt horribly guilty for sleeping on the floor at Dadan’s place. Bringing food to her doorstep was his way of earning his keep, even as a small child, but the need to pay her back for sheltering a little monster like him didn’t go away when he set sail. He began sending money back to her every month in hopes it would ease the burden he had undoubtedly put on her by existing.

When Whitebeard tried adopting him, he didn’t resort to violence because he was still trying to take down an Emperor. He did so because he was triggered by Whitebeard’s compassion. It was such a foreign feeling to him he could only think to attack, scared of what that compassion stirred in him.

Ace was petrified of sex, even when taking every precaution. He was terrified of getting a girl pregnant and bringing a child into the world that hated him before he was ever born and would surely hate his child for all the same reasons, would perhaps even hate that child more because they would be blamed for his crimes in addition to his father’s. He had vivid nightmares about becoming a father, and then felt guilty for having those nightmares about it because he felt like he was inflicting psychological wounds on his nonexistent unborn child by not wanting them.

Ace died thinking Sabo would be waiting for him on the other side.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

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smileysuh · 2 years ago

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Sunday Sinner

🌙 staring. Mark & Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “Everything is wrong,” Mark sighs. “Doing this with you two is wrong. Wanting you this badly is wrong. Getting hard in Church is wrong. What I want to do to you is wrong. But… as crazy as it sounds, it also feels right.”

tw/cw. threesomes, inexperienced!Mark, fingering, blow jobs, deep throating, pussy eating, spit roasting, voyeurism, lots of masturbation (especially in the shower), Hyuck has a dirty mouth, sin sin sin, unprotected sex, creampies, cum play, kink for being 'full', religious contention, Mark gets hard during Sunday Service, Mark getting outed as low key virgin, proposition, Mark uses a cross necklace in sinful ways, praise, slight degradation, inklings of corruption kink, squirting, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel. (Mark's) church boy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 12.6k

🍭 aus.frat/uni au, soccer player au, church/inexperienced!Mark, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I've wanted to do a fic about Mark being Christain for a while, but I wanted to make one that was still respectful. This idea popped into my head, and I think it turned out really well :) it's only slight blasphemy.

There’s nothing like a frat party after a big win for the university soccer team. Even though Mark doesn’t really drink, and he’s never smoked a joint in his entire life, it’s nice to be surrounded by happy energy.

His team always laughs at him when he notes how celebrations can feel almost church-like, but the indescribable buzz that fills the entire frat is familiar to the man who’s been going to Sunday Services his entire life.

Mark likes seeing familiar faces, and if he hadn’t been raised in a very big family type of system, he’s not so sure he’d be this okay with crowds, or the number of people who reach out to pat him on the shoulder and shake his hand in congratulations for scoring the winning goal.

It had been a great game, and when Mark’s ball had sunk into the top left corner of the net, he’d run to the side lines to fall to his knees and make the sign of the cross, grabbing at the religious pendant around his neck to kiss it. People have always made fun of him for this tradition of his, but nothing will ever stop him from thanking God - his God - for the fortune life has brought him.

Even now, the necklace is securely around his throat, the cross resting just below his shirt. The cool metal brushes by his skin when he moves through the frat house, a constant reminder of his faith.

Something is drawing him outside, and Mark has always been someone who leans into the feelings he can’t put his finger on. It’s something like divine guidance, and Mark exits the frat to step onto the back patio, where his friends are in a circle around a fire.

It smells like weed, something Mark hadn’t liked at first, but it’s now a scent he’s used to, and he heads over to stand next to his roommate.

Lee Donghyuck and Mark have been friends since high school, where a few ‘less woke’ teachers had assumed - because of their shared last name - that two were cousins, or something of the sort. They’d always been put in group projects together. At first, Hyuck had been too much for Mark to handle, but over the years, he’s come to like the chaotic energy of his closest friend, despite all their differences, mainly, their disagreements on religion.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” Hyuck bellows, throwing his arm around Mark to pull him tight to his hoodie covered side, which reeks of marijuana.

“Church boy Mark!” Yuta grins from across the circle, raising his beer in a mock toast to the man who had won them their soccer game.

“Can he even be here?” a bitchy foreign exchange student from Thailand asks, earning a shove from Mark’s frat ‘big’ Johnny.

“Of course he can be here,” the man from Chicago laughs.

“I just mean-” Ten is quick to correct himself, “we’re playing Never Have I Ever. Are we sure this is suitable for him?”

“Mark plays games,” Hyuck insists, but Mark’s not so sure about this one.

“He doesn’t even have a drink,” Ten notes, looking Mark up and down.

“Someone get him something,” Hyuck says, snapping his fingers at one of their pledges. “One of the iced tea mixes, the low percent ones-”

“Hyuck-” Mark sighs.

“Trust me,” Hyuck assures him, “you hardly do anything with your life, it’s not like you’ll have to drink that much.”

Mark still doesn’t feel too enthused about joining the game, but he supposes his heart led him out here for one reason or another, so he accepts the hard iced tea can Jisung hands him. His eyes immediately scan it for the alcohol content, and he sighs. “This is the same as beer.”

“Come on, church boy,” Hyuck groans. “You’ll only have like three sips, max. Watch-” without waiting for Mark to agree, Hyuck is addressing the circle again. “Never have I ever sucked cock.”

The girls in the vicinity all make sounds of annoyance, raising their drinks to their lips. In the periphery, Yuta also sips his beer, and after a moment and a groan, so does Ten.

“See!?” Hyuck squeezes Mark’s shoulder. “You’re already zero for one.”

“That was a low blow, Hyuck,” your voice draws Mark’s attention. You’re standing on the other side of his best friend, which shouldn’t be that big of a surprise, seeing as you’re Hyuck’s fuck buddy.

Mark takes a moment to assess you while Hyuck rolls his eyes and defends himself. The church goer has always thought you were pretty, and you’re smart too, much too smart for the crazy gemini he has as a roommate.

“Two can play that game,” you warn, raising your voice to announce, “Never have I ever eaten pussy.”

Mark’s skin prickles, panic washing over him as every man around the fire - and even a few girls - drink. The church boy can feel his grip on his can shaking slightly, and for a brief moment he considers having a swig of the hard iced tea just to protect himself, but, well… it would be a lie. And if there’s one thing Mark Lee doesn’t do, it’s lie.

Mark can feel eyes on him as he downcasts his gaze to the ground. His skin is heating with embarrassment, and he just prays to God no one makes a big deal out of this-

“You’ve never eaten pussy?” Jeno yells, and Mark just knows the question is directed at him.

He looks up, lips parting at the shock of being put on the spot.

“Wait, you guys haven’t heard the church camp story?” Hyuck asks, and now Mark’s really panicking. But it’s too late to stop his loose lipped roomie, who is already diving into Mark’s past for the whole circle to hear. “This one time, he fucked a girl at church camp, and a Jesus picture fell off the wall, so he hasn’t even touched a girl since then.”

A few people laugh, and while Mark can understand that - objectively - they’re not laughing at him, but at the story, he can’t help but get defensive.

“It fell off the wall, Hyuck,” Mark insists, voice shaking. “How else do you explain that?”

“I’ve always thought you were just banging that girl too hard,” Hyuck suggests, earning a few sounds of agreement from other frat boys.

But Hyuck wasn’t there when it had happened, and Mark knows for a fact there was no true bed rocking going on. He’d been taking things slow, and the only possible explanation for the picture falling - in his mind at least - is that he’d disappointed God.

He’d done a hundred Hail Mary’s as repentance, and now that his secret has been put out where everyone can hear, he thinks maybe he should do fifty more for good measure.

“I’ve gotta go,” Mark mumbles, handing Hyuck his drink.

Mark’s roommate tries to stop him from scurrying away, but the damage has been done, and the man who scored the winning goal at the soccer game rushes back into the frat house with red ears that betray his shame.

“You can’t still be mad at me,” Hyuck whines, chasing after you as you exit the frat bathroom.

“Why do you assume I’m mad at you?”

“Because I followed you to the toilet and you didn’t wanna smash?” Your fuck buddy manages to pin you to the wall, hands on either side of your head while he looks at you with serious eyes, a contrast to the sentence that’s just come out of his mouth.

“Sometimes a girl’s just gotta pee, Hyuck,” you laugh.

“Don’t play games, angel,” he insists. “You’re mad about the Mark thing.”

“So you admit I have something to be mad about.”

Hyuck lets out a sigh. “Fine, yes.” He pulls away from you, throwing up a hand in defeat. “I shouldn’t have told everyone his stupid Jesus picture story. There, I said I’m sorry, are you happy now?”

“You said what?”

He groans, and in one motion, he’s pinning you to the wall again, his lips just millimeters away from yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, and his eyes drill into your own, “I’m sorry.”

After a moment, you say softly, “I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to.”

“You want me to apologize to Mark?!”

“Among other things.”

Hyuck pulls away, looking you up and down. “You better not be suggesting what I think your horny ass is suggesting.”

“I don’t know,” you smirk. “What do you think I’m thinking?”

“It looks like you’re thinking about going upstairs to offer Mark help with getting over his Jesus sex fear.”

“And that would upset you?” You cock your head to the side, assessing your fuck buddy.

“Angel,” he groans, “you’re mine.”

“Am I though?” you counter. “Am I really?”

When you’d started sleeping with Hyuck, he’d made it clear that he’s not the kind of guy who likes to be tied down to one person. While he can be somewhat possessive, part of your arrangement is that you can both do what you want, and right now, you’re seriously considering fucking the sweet church boy you’ve had a slight infatuation with since year one.

“Fuck the fact that you’re not my girlfriend,” Hyuck says finally. “There are bigger reasons you shouldn’t do this.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Well for one,” your fuck buddy leans in, his lips ghosting by your ear as he whispers, “Mark has a massive crush on you.”

For some reason, you find yourself laughing. Leave it to Hyuck to spill two of Mark’s biggest secrets in the span of one hour.

“If Mark has a crush on me, then I have to do this. You can either join us, or go cry about it.”

Hyuck sighs. “For an angel, you can be a bit of a fucking demon sometimes.”

“And you love it.”

You and Hyuck are standing outside his bedroom. The door is locked when you try to open it, and Hyuck watches you let out a deep sigh before knocking. “Mark? You in there?”

“Of course he’s in there,” Hyuck whispers, rolling his eyes.

“Shh! Be nice!” you chastise him, playfully smacking his arm. Your voice is soft when you call out again, knocking gently a few more times. “Mark? Please let me in.”

The music from downstairs is too loud for Hyuck to hear movement in his room, but after a few moments, the door opens and Mark peers out.

“Oh, it’s both of you.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Mark,” Hyuck nearly laughs, placing his palm on the wood so he can force it open before his friend tries to shut the door again. “I live here too, you know.”

“How could I forget,” Mark sighs, heading over to flop onto his bed.

You and Hyuck enter the room, and he clicks the lock back into place behind him. He watches you approach his friend, sitting on the foot of the mattress.

When you reach out, ghosting your hand over Mark’s shin, Hyuck leans back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. He wouldn’t define himself as a jealous type of guy, but watching you be gentle with Mark is definitely bringing up some suppressed emotions, and Hyuck’s not sure what to make of it.

“Mark,” you stroke his leg. “Hyuck has something to say to you.”

“Huh?!” Hyuck’s eyes widen, and he looks between you and his roommate.

You’re going to make him proposition his friend for you?

“Yeah, didn’t you tell me you wanted to apologize?” There’s a warning tone in your voice, and when you look over your shoulder at Hyuck, you give him an expression filled with expectation.

“Right,” Hyuck coughs. “I uh… I’m sorry for what happened at the fire.”

He can tell by your small eye roll that you’re not fully satisfied with his apology, but Mark doesn’t seem to mind. The church boy sighs, running a hand over his face. “It’s okay,” he mumbles.

“It’s not okay,” you insist, turning your gaze back to Mark. “I’m also sorry for saying never have I ever eaten pussy. I was trying to attack Hyuck and make him drink, but you got caught in the crossfire.”

“You didn’t mean to, though,” Mark says. “I shouldn’t have joined the game. This is a lesson for me, I guess.”

“Aw, Mark,” Hyuck can’t see your face, but he knows you’re frowning. “We wanted you to join the game. We like it when you do things with us.”

It’s interesting for Hyuck to hear you saying the royal ‘we,’ as if you’re a couple, a unit.

“I’m sure the incident with the Jesus picture was very traumatizing for you,” you continue, sounding as genuine as ever while your hand continues to smooth up and down Mark’s leg. “I can understand why you’d be… apprehensive about doing anything sexual after that.”

Mark groans, covering his face with his hands. Hyuck can’t help but smile when he sees his friend’s ears flaring red with embarrassment, it’s always so easy to get the church boy riled up.

“I just want you to know…” you shift a little where you’re seated, moving closer to Hyuck’s roommate, “this is a safe space. If you ever wanted to… try something like that again, there aren’t any Jesus pictures here to knock down.”

“What?” Mark’s lips part with shock, and he looks between you and Hyuck. “Are you two…”

“Propositioning you?” Hyuck suggests. “Yeah, she is.”

“I’m not-” Mark swallows thickly. “I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” you assure him.

“She wants to fuck you, Mark,” Hyuck says, trying to be helpful. “It will be good for you.”

“Good for me?” Mark squeaks.

“You’re a frat boy who’s practically a virgin, dude,” Hyuck nearly laughs. “You’ve gotta dip your dick in the sinful water sometime. What’s life without eating a little pussy?”

“Oh my god,” Mark groans, covering his face with his hands.

“It’s not that bad, Jesus won’t mind, you don’t even have to put your dick in her!” Hyuck can’t believe he’s the one backing this now, but he also can’t really believe his roommate is a near-virgin.

“This can’t be happening-” Mark is still hiding his face, his ears as scarlet as ever.

“Listen, “ Hyuck sighs, “we usually fuck while you’re at church on Sundays. But if you wanted, we could wait a little and let you join after your service tomorrow.”

Mark’s eyes widen. “After my service? Are you two crazy?”

“You don’t have to decide right now,” you assure him. “I’m sure this is a lot to take in, especially after the day you had. I don’t think I’ve congratulated you on your goal in the game today yet-”

Hyuck scoffs at how you could be bringing that up right now.

“Just think about it,” you continue, giving Mark’s thigh a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to go home now, but, tomorrow, if you want to try eating pussy, Hyuck and I will be here.”

Hyuck wonders what would happen if it was just you propositioning Mark. If he’d be more willing to agree. It’s definitely an added level of sin to have Hyuck in the room while Mark rips his virgin bandaid off, but it’s not like Hyuck’s going to leave Mark alone with you.

You’re his angel, even if you’re looking to save Mark.

Mark can’t pay attention to the sermon. His palms are sweaty, no matter how many times he rubs them against his pants. He feels like - at any moment - a big Jesus statue could just fall over and everyone in the church would turn to him, knowing he was the cause due to his sinful thoughts.

What makes it worse, is the way he can feel blood rushing to his cock. He’s half hard at the Sunday service, and he’s never felt like a worse Christain.

This experience definitely trumps the losing of his virginity, if that’s even possible, and he hasn’t even done anything with you yet.

But in the dark, back corners of his mind, Mark knows that will change. He knows he won’t be able to resist you, you’re just too tempting. He doesn’t have that kind of control over himself, no matter how much he wishes he did.

When the service is over, Mark stands on shaky legs, grabbing a Bible to hold in front of his crotch while he exits the place of worship to head back to the frat.

The fresh air does little to calm his nerves. If anything, the closer he gets to his home, the more sinful he feels. He knows each step is one step closer to you, one step closer to religious paraphenia being miraculously moved by the hand of God-

Yet, he can’t stop. He can’t even alter his course, and when he reaches the frat, he doesn’t say one word to the boys kicking around in the kitchen, he heads straight up to his room.

When he gets to his door, Mark pauses. His hands are shaky as he reaches for the knob, and for a second, he wonders if he should knock. Taking a deep breath, Mark decides to ignore his manners, pushing into the room.

He’s almost relieved to find you and Hyuck sitting in his bed, fully clothed, watching something on Netflix.

“Hiya, Mark,” Hyuck waves, as if their relationship isn’t about to be completely altered.

“How was Sunday service?” you ask.

“How was it?” Mark shuts the door behind himself, giving his head a little shake as he hurries over to the closet to discard his jacket. “You know, good.”

“Why are you carrying a Bible?” Hyuck asks, looking him up and down. “Did you steal that from your church?”

Panic shoots through Mark. He had most definitely accidentally stolen it from his church, wihtout giving it a second thought. His mind had been so focused on you and covering his boner-

“I can give it back,” Mark insists, palms sweating again as he places the book gently on top of his backpack.

“You look spooked, dude. Did some pastor try to touch you?”

“Hyuck!” you practically scream, slapping your hand over your fuck buddy’s mouth. “You can’t say things like that!”

Hyuck mumbles something against your hand that sounds like ‘historically accurate,’ and Mark wants to strangle him.

“You want to know why I look stressed?” Mark sighs. “Because you two are sinners who propositioned me last night!”

Hyuck moves your hand from his mouth, smirking. “Come on, Mark, be sinners with us!”

“This is not helping,” you whisper to your fuck buddy, gently pushing his shoulder before you stand from the bed, approaching Mark with an empathetic expression. “I’m sorry about last night, we shouldn’t have pushed that on you.”

“It’s okay,” Mark shakes his head, refusing to meet your gaze.

“It’s not, we’re horrible, dirty, sinful people,” you reach out, linking your pinkie with Mark’s. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes. “Forget we ever said anything.”

“I can’t forget,” Mark states, finally looking at you. He licks his lips, thinking of something else to say, but all that comes out is “I can’t forget,” and it’s the truth.

You open your mouth, and Mark hangs on what your next words will be-

Hyuck interrupts the moment. “So are you gonna eat pussy or what?”

“Hyuck!” you yell, turning to flash a warning glare at the man who’s giggling to himself on his bed.

Mark doesn’t even want to focus on his friend right now. Instead, he reaches out, taking your other hand gently. He gazes down at your fingers, too scared to look at your face.

“I think…” Mark swallows the lump in his throat. “I think we should do this.”

“Really?” you ask while Hyuck lets out a loud “What?!”

“You’re both right… maybe it will be good for me.” Mark can’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth. “But- I’m not sure what I’m even ready for.”

“We can go slow,” you assure him, squeezing his hand. “Anything you’re comfortable with.”

Mark looks up at you. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

Hyuck scoffs loudly, but it’s an afterthought in Mark’s mind when you nod, reaching up to cup his face. “You can kiss me,” you tell him softly.

Mark’s free hand reaches out to grab your waist, and he moves closer. He can feel your breath on his face. He’s never been this up close and personal with you, and you’ve never been prettier. There’s a softness in your expression, an acceptance, and it makes Mark feel confident enough to press his lips to yours.

It’s a gentle kiss - a perfect kiss - and Mark can feel the tension releasing in his shoulders.

You step even closer, and your breasts press against his chest, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck. Your tongue smooths over his bottom lip and Mark stifles a groan, opening his mouth just enough for his own tongue to meet yours.

He can count the number of girls he’s kissed during his life on one hand, including you, but none of them have happened like this. Mark had never imagined he’d end up in this situation before, and despite the calming effect you have on him, he still finds himself pulling away and struggling to catch his breath.

“I want to touch you,” he admits, in fact, he’s been thinking about it all day.

“Yeah?” There’s a sparkle in your eye and you smile at him. “Where?”

Mark can’t bring himself to say it.

You gently take his hand, bringing it to your throat. “Here?” you ask, and Mark traces his thumb over your jugular, surprised to find your heart is racing just as fast as his own. “Or…” you move his hand down, his palm cupping at your breast, “Here?”

Mark lets out a low groan at the feeling of you. He’s touched even less boobs than he’s kissed girls in his life, and yours are absolutely perfect in his hand.

“Mark,” you whimper, and he brushes his fingers over your pebbled nipple, peaking through your shirt. He can feel his cock throbbing in his pants, and he shifts uncomfortably.

“Or maybe…” you move his hand lower, dragging it across your stomach until it reaches your pussy through your sweatpants, “were you thinking of touching me here?”

He nods, still unable to speak as you guide him to apply more pressure to your core. You feel so warm, and a sinful voice in the back of his mind tells him you’re probably wet too. Or at least, he hopes you’re wet, hopes he has the same effect on you that you have on him.

You let out a soft moan, and it’s like music to his ears. You grind down slightly on his hand, wiggling your hips in a motion that’s hypnotizing. “Do you want to…” you bite at your lip, toying with the waistband of your sweats. “Do you want to put your hand inside?”

“God, yes,” Mark groans, finally finding his voice.

You pull the waistband away from your skin, giving Mark access to slip his hand below it. Then your lips find his again, your arms wrapping around his shoulders while he teases his fingers along your panty clad core.

You’re as wet as he’d hoped you would be, and Mark moans at the realization.

He’s only watched porn a handful of times in his life, and always felt bad about it after, but he knows where the clit is, and he gently circles his fingers around the spot.

You gasp into his mouth, and Mark eats up the sound, applying more pressure.

“Fuck, Mark, just like that-” you tell him, threading your fingers through his hair as you deepen the kiss.

You rut your hips, grinding down on his hand, and it drives Mark wild. He wants to touch you, really touch you, without any fabric in the way, and when he opens his mouth to ask, “Can I-” you’re agreeing without even hearing the end of the sentence.

He takes a breath, and then he moves your panties to the side.

The first swipe of his fingers through your pussy lips feels like nothing he’s ever felt before, and the wetness he collects against his skin makes his cock throb again.

He teases your opening, earning more gasps from you as your lips move to his neck. When your mouth makes contact on a spot just below his ear, a shiver runs through Mark’s entire body. He’s heard about sweet spots, but no one has ever kissed his, and the feeling has his eyes closing with pleasure.

Without a second though, Mark slides a finger into your pussy, and you mewl in his ear, holding him tighter. “So good,” you whisper as he slowly thrusts the digit in and out of you, building the confidence to add another.

You're grinding down against him still, and his palm works your clit while his two fingers curl inside of you. The sounds you’re making are increasing in pitch and frequency, and you’re gently pulling on his hair, licking at the spot on his neck that has his body tingling.

He’s never made a girl cum before, but he can tell by the way you’re reacting, that he’s going to get you there. He wants to get you there, more than he’s wanted any goal he’s ever scored in a soccer game.

The cool weight of the cross around his neck has Mark wondering if he’s going to go to hell for this. But can he really go to hell for something that feels this good? This right?

“I’m close,” you tell him. “Don’t stop.”

Mark works his fingers into you even faster, eager to have you coming undone on his hand-

A clinking sound in the periphery makes Mark’s eyes open, and when he looks over at Hyuck’s bed, he sees his friend wiggling out of his pants.

“Dude, what the Hell-” Mark freezes, making an attempt to pull his hand from your pants, but you latch onto his wrist, shaking your head.

“No, Mark, please, I’m so close, please-” There’s a look of desperation in your eye, and it has him swallowing thickly, focusing on you while he picks up his motions again.

“I’ll wait,” Hyuck says in the background, and there’s some comfort in that at least.

“Mark, it feels so good, you’re so good at this-” you praise him, whispering in his ear while you work your hips faster against his hand.

“Oh God-” Mark groans, watching your face contort with pleasure.

“There’s no God here, dude,” comes Hyuck’s snarky voice.

Mark’s eyes begin to shift to his friend, but you cup his face, forcing him to look at you. “Focus on me,” you tell him. “Like I’m focused on you.”

He swallows thickly, breathing deeply as he fingers you harder, earning all sorts of sinful moans that drown out anything Hyuck could ever bring to the situation.

“Yes, Mark, yes- I’m gonna-” You’re gasping now, and you can’t even finish your sentence. Your pussy clenches around Mark’s fingers, your lips finding his as you cum.

He continues his motions, wanting to draw out every second of pleasure that he can-

Mark has heard all sorts of ideas about what Heaven could look like, but he’s never heard that Heaven could be standing in your frat house room, hand down your best friend’s fuck buddy’s pants, with her pussy throbbing around your fingers.

You begin to shake, reaching down to grab at his forearm, and Mark knows you’re finished. He doesn’t want to hurt you, and he pulls his hand away, marveling at the slick that’s covering his digits.

“Here,” you say gently, grabbing his wrist to guide his fingers to your mouth, licking them clean. Then you reach for him, bringing your mouth close to his own. “Taste me.”

Mark’s never kissed a girl so fast in his life, and he groans at the flavour of your tongue. If this is what your pussy tastes like, Mark had missed out by passing up the opportunity to eat you out, but at the same time, he’s really not sure if he’s ready for that yet.

“Okay, you two,” Hyuck’s voice makes Mark draw back from you. “This is enough teasing, I’ve gotta fuck something now or I’m gonna explode. Mark, are you staying?”

The church boy swallows thickly and then he shakes his head. If he’s not ready to eat you out, he’s definitely not ready to watch his best friend fuck you. “I’ve gotta…” he stumbles for an excuse. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Right, shower,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “Have fun with that.”

You go in for one last kiss before Hyuck is pulling you away from Mark, and he watches for just a moment while Hyuck presses his own mouth against yours-

Mark tears his eyes away, reaching for a towel in his closet before escaping the room.

The towel covers his boner while he runs down the hallway to the bathroom, and he strips himself naked in record time, stepping into a shower stall.

His hand is around his throbbing cock not two seconds later, and Mark throws his head back, closing his eyes while his brain struggles to process everything that’s just transpired.

It doesn’t take long for him to work himself to the edge. His toes curl against the vinyl floor, and his vision goes practically black as he cums.

There’s no time to aim, and Mark feels sticky warm fluid coat his chest, but his hand doesn’t stop. He jacks himself off until he’s a nearly overstimulated, gasping mess, and he thanks God for the water cleaning his body of the sinful filth.

He’s never cum this hard in his entire life.

You’re at your usual Wednesday lunch with the girls before class when you notice one of your friend’s looking at something over your shoulder. She’s done this a few times now, but when you turn in your seat to assess the room, you don’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Are you looking at someone?” you question.

“It’s just…” Hyuna leans forward. “Did you do something to Mark?”

“What?” you look behind you again, thoroughly confused.

“Every time you turn, he pulls his baseball cap down,” she explains. “He’s over there, by the window. Green cap.”

When you scan the area again, you do notice a pair of cute red ears sticking out from a baseball cap, the guy’s head downcast as if he’s just staring at his french fries.

“How many times has he looked over here?” you ask, grinning.

“Like, a lot.” Hyuna cocks her head. “You did do something to Mark.”

You stand up, leaning forward. “Actually, he did something to me.” With a wink to your girls, you turn to head off toward Mark’s table.

He looks up once during your approach, and you see him scrambling with his bag. It would be very entertaining to watch him run away from you again, but he doesn’t have the chance, as you arrive before he’s done shoving papers into his binder.

“Hey, you.” You take the seat across from him. “How’s it going?”

“Good.” His voice is shaky, and you find it adorable.

“You know…” you reach your foot out under the table, grazing it by his calf. “I can’t get you out of my head either.”

Mark coughs, adjusting the cap on his head. “What?”

“I said, I can’t get you out of my head either.” You’re enjoying the effect you have on him, and you’re very aware of how public the space is. You don’t think Mark’s going to confirm that he’s been thinking about you, so instead, you ask, “Are you planning to go to church on Sunday?”

“Yeah, of course,” he swallows thickly.

“Do you think you’ll be able to pay attention while you’re there?”

“I uh, I-” Mark stutters over his words. “I think so?”

You study the pretty virginal frat boy. As soft as you’ve been with him so far, you feel like teasing him, just to see how he reacts. “Just so you know, if, while you’re at Sunday service, a Jesus picture falls down, it’s because Jesus knows what you did.”

Mark lets out a groan, and you see his neck has turned red now too. “I-” Mark’s gaze dips down to your breasts, which are pushed together in your low neckline shirt as you lean forward. “I have to go-” he grabs his things, fumbling with all of them while he stands abruptly.

The loud sound of his chair scraping across the ground draws a few eyes, and the pool boy nearly knocks the table over in his haste. You notice the way he immediately holds his binder over his crotch, and you lick your lips while looking up at him.

“See you later,” he mumbles, running away.

You watch him enter the men’s bathroom, and you think you can imagine what he’s going in there to do. Last time he’d run away from you, Hyuck had mentioned he was probably going to jack off in the showers.

The frat bathroom is one thing for a quick wank, but a public restroom is another.

You shake your head, walking back to your girls table, Mark’s tray of fries in your hand. They’re all gawking at you.

“Damn,” Hyuna whistles. “I know you just said he did things to you, but girl, you definitely did a number on that church boy.”

There’s nothing Hyuck loves more in the world than making you cum on his cock. He loves the noises you make, gripping at his bed sheets as your orgasm overtakes you. He loves being the source of your high.

What he doesn’t love however, is the way that today, you immediately ask, “How’s Mark doing?” as Hyuck pulls out of you.

He can’t help but laugh slightly, shaking his head at you. “Been acting weird all week.”

“Do you think he’s going to join us tomorrow after church? I’m kind of shocked he wasn’t here today, if I’m being honest.”

“Is that why you came over? Wanted to see your precious little Mark?” Hyuck lands a smack to your inner thigh that has you giggling. “And yeah. He’ll probably join tomorrow. Jeno says he’s walked in on Mark jacking off in the shower like, four times this week. It’s actually starting to be a bit of a problem.”

“Is frat boys jacking off in the shower not a common occurrence around here?”

“It is, but not when it’s Mark,” Hyuck laughs. “That guy needs to get fucked.”

“I’m not sure he’s ready for that yet.”

Hyuck studies you. “What makes you say that?”

“Just a feeling.”

“Well, maybe he just needs to cum properly.”

You sit up, teasing your hands over Hyuck’s thighs. “Tell me, how does a guy ‘cum properly.’”

“Buried inside something nice, and wet, and warm,” Hyuck reaches out to grasp your chin. “Your mouth would work.”

You laugh at the idea, “Maybe if he lets me,” and Hyuck grins, getting off the bed to pull on his pants.

“I’m gonna head to the kitchen for water, need anything?”

“Just you,” you tease. “Hurry back.”

“You got it, angel,” Hyuck winks at you before heading to the door. He pulls on his shirt as he exits the room, but just when he gets his head through the neck hole, he catches a quick glimpse of one mister Mark Lee rushing into the bathroom at the end of the hall.

Had Mark been listening this whole time? Had he been outside of the door, listening to Hyuck fuck you?

The thought makes Hyuck laugh again, and his ego triples in size. There’s something very… intriguing about this whole situation with the frat’s ‘designated’ virginal church boy, even if this experience is making Hyuck rethink his ideas of commitment.

If the last Sunday service had been torture, today might just be Hell for Mark.

He’s sweating, shaking even, his knee bobbing up and down anxiously while he sits in the back row.

He’d returned the Bible he’d stolen last time, but he fears that he might end up taking it again. Every time he thinks about you, thinks about what it felt like to have his hand down your pants while you sucked on his neck-

No, he can’t think about it. He can’t-

But it’s too late, he feels his cock growing in his pants, and shame washes over him. He runs a hand through his hair, fanning himself and taking deep breaths.

It’s not ten minutes into the hour long service, and already, he’s at his breaking point.

Mark battles with himself for another two minutes, and he finally gives up. When everyone stands to sing, he quietly excuses himself from the back row, ducking out of the church without looking back.

“Mark?” you sit up hastily from Hyuck’s embrace, blinking at the boy who’s just entered the room. “You’re back from church early!”

“Yeah, I couldn’t sit through it,” Mark mumbles, throwing his jacket in the closet before collapsing on his bed, running a hand through his hair.

“That’s unlike you,” Hyuck sits up next to you. “Are you sick or something?”

“Definitely sick in the head,” Mark groans.

“Enjoying sex doesn’t make you bad,” you tell him. “Besides, we haven’t even fucked yet.”

Mark sighs. “Yet.”

“So you were thinking about her fucking you while you were in church,” Hyuck grins next to you. “That’s sinful, Mark.”

“I know!” Mark flops onto his stomach, shoving his face against his pillow.

You look at Hyuck, and he makes a face, motioning to his friend. ‘Say something’ he mouths.

‘No, you say something!’ you mouth back.

Instead, Hyuck simply pushes you out of his bed, and you stumble onto your feet.

“Mark…” you approach the sulking churchboy. “I know a few things that could cheer you up.”

Mark groans, but he sits up all the same, looking at you with eyes that tell you he wants you to elaborate.

“I was thinking…” you swallow, choosing your words. “Based on your history, it sounds like maybe you’ve never had someone go down on you before-”

“Fuck, she’s so good with her mouth,” Hyuck quips.

“I know this whole thing started with you not eating pussy, but, seeing as you made me cum last week with your fingers, I thought I could return the favour somehow.”

Mark’s lips part, and he allows you to take his hands, pulling him to be standing in front of you.

“What do you say Mark?” You lean forward, your lips almost touching. “Can I suck you off? Pretty please?”

Instead of answering, he kisses you, cupping the back of your neck.

Your first kiss with Mark had been slow and gentle, but there’s a new fire in him now, and it’s only a moment before his tongue is gliding past your lower lip, begging for entrance. You release a groan, reaching down to loop your fingers in the waistband of his pants, pulling him tighter to your body.

You can feel that he’s already hard, and you love how easy it is to turn him on. You love the way he’s already becoming more explorative in the way he interacts with you, his hand steady on the back of your neck, insistent that you stay lip locked.

For a guy who doesn’t kiss girls much, he’s a phenomenal kisser. There’s emotion in it, and he tastes like spearmint.

You get lost in the feeling of him, but after only a little while, you’re aching to touch him properly. Your hand slips down, cupping him through his pants. The church boy shivers at the contact, and you squeeze him. It’s the first time you’ve really touched his cock, and you bet he’s already aching-

He releases the back of your neck, and you take it as a sign to begin kissing down his body. You start at his throat, licking the sensitive spot that has him grabbing your hips and releasing a moan. He makes such pretty sounds-

You continue rubbing his cock, but when your mouth gets to his collarbone, you grab at his shirt. “Can this come off?”

“Yeah,” Mark mumbles, releasing you so he can unbutton the nice church shirt he’s wearing.

When he discards the fabric, revealing his body to you, you simply enjoy it for a moment.

Mark and Hyuck both have such wonderful bodies. Sure, some of your friends make good arguments about the muscled forms of Jaehyun, Johnny and Jeno, but you prefer Mark’s understated physique.

He’s a soccer player, and his body is perfectly athletic without being too much to handle.

Your kisses begin to descend, and you find yourself pausing at the cross necklace. You lean forward and press your lips to it softly. Mark lets out a shaky breath.

You know he’s watching you, and this is your way of showing him you still respect his religion, despite persuading him to partake in the more ‘sinful’ side of life.

“Wait,” Mark says, and he lets go of you to reach behind his neck, fumbling with the clasp. You watch him with curiosity as he removes the cross, holding it gently and placing it onto his bedside table.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him without the gold chain around his throat, and you wonder what the removal of it could mean, but you try not to think too hard about it.

You sink to your knees on the floor, undoing his belt and looking up at Mark. If he doesn’t want this, he can stop you, and you give him more than enough time to make that decision. But Mark only watches you, breathing heavily as you undo the button, then the zipper-

“You want this?” you ask, hooking your fingers in his pants and briefs.

He nods. “I want you.”

You smile, tugging the fabrics down so they pool at his feet.

“You have such a pretty cock,” you whisper, grabbing the base and swiping your thumb across the leaking tip. You notice the way Mark’s chest and neck flush pink, as if he’s embarrassed by your words, but you know that praise is good for Mark.

You press a kiss to the head of his cock, suckling a little while Mark moans above you.

It looks like he’s not sure where to place his hands, so you reach for one, placing it on your cheek while you take more of him into your mouth.

“God-” Mark whispers.

“She feels good, right?” Hyuck asks.

“Yeah,” Mark nods. “Really good.”

Having them both give you praise has your pussy throbbing, and it encourages you to sink further down onto his cock, sucking harder-

“Shit-” Mark nearly whimpers, and you think this might be the first time you’ve heard him swear.

You know it’s wrong, and bad, and dirty, and sinful- but there’s something about corrupting Mark that has you going insane. You bob up and down on his cock, stroking the base that you can’t reach with your mouth.

“This is too hot,” Hyuck says. “I’ve gotta join.”

“How-” Mark begins to ask, but a second later, hands are pulling you off of Mark’s cock.

“Both of you, on the bed,” Hyuck instructs. “You’ve heard of spit roasting, right, Mark?”

“I-” the church boy’s skin is flushed again, and when you hop up on the bed, he follows, clamoring after you.

“Look, you’ll have her mouth,” Hyuck gets on the mattress behind you, and you hear him undoing his belt, “and I’ll have her perfect pussy. It’s a win, win.”

Mark doesn’t argue, his eyes moving down to meet yours as you take his dick back into your mouth, picking up where you’d left off.

Hyuck, meanwhile, tears your pants down, and a moment later his fingers are gliding through your pussy. “Fuck, angel, you’re soaked. Sucking Mark’s cock really turns you on, huh?”

You groan a sound of affirmation around Mark, and his hand is quick to grab your head again, fingers flexing in your hair.

“You can fuck her face if you want,” Hyuck suggests, working two fingers into you easily. “She loves getter her throat fucked-”

Mark’s hips twitch at the words, but he doesn’t follow through. You think maybe he doesn’t want to hurt you, and it’s an endearing idea.

Hyuck pulls his digits from your core, and they’re replaced with the head of his cock, which he rubs the length of your pussy, teasing your clit before pushing into you.

Your fuck buddy lets out a loud groan, his hands finding your hips as he sinks his length fully into your core.

“Dude,” Hyuck breathes, “her pussy is literally Heaven-”

His first thrust sends you further onto Mark’s cock, and the man above you gasps when he hits the back of your throat.

“Is fucking pussy going against God?” Hyuck asks, in an almost rhetoric manner. “Isn’t there some weird church loophole where anal doesn’t count? Her ass is great too, scout’s honor.”

At this point, you’re pretty sure Mark’s not even listening to Hyuck. He’s much too focused on your lips wrapped around him, and the sounds slipping out of him make you think maybe he’s close to the edge.

All things considered - for a guy who’s never been blown - Mark’s lasting remarkably well, but you don’t want him to last. You want him to cum, like he deserves to cum.

When you suck harder, you feel Mark’s cock twitch, and he lets out a groan. “Shit, I’m gonna-”

“Cum in her mouth,” Hyuck states, pace getting rougher inside of you. “Do it. She’s a good girl. She’ll swallow. Fuck, it’s so hot when she swallows.”

Mark moans, and he pushes his hips forward, sending his cock into the back of your throat. Your gag reflex is the thing that makes him cum, and an “Oh my God!” leaves his lips as he explodes down your throat.

Hyuck’s right, you are a good girl, and you swallow every drop, working Mark through his orgasm until he’s gasping. He pulls out of your mouth, and Hyuck takes the opportunity to fuck you even harder.

Now that you can moan freely, you fill the room with sounds of your own pleasure. When Mark gets off the bed, you fall onto your face, turning to press your cheek to the mattress while you watch Mark find his pants on the floor.

His eyes meet yours, and you can see his pupils are blown. It’s so incredibly sexy to have Hyuck fucking you on Mark’s bed while Mark watches, and your pussy throbs around Hyuck’s cock.

“Fuck, you just got so tight, angel,” Hyuck groans, fingers digging into your waist while his hips buck wildly. “Shit, I’m not going to last like this-”

You reach a shaky hand under your body, finding your clit, and it only makes your pussy clamp down harder on your fuck buddy, who releases another loud moan.

“You close, angel? Sucking off Mark must have really got you going-”

“I’m close,” you confirm, grabbing at the bedsheet with your free hand while your fingers continue on your clit.

“Yeah, you are,” Hyuck growls. “That’s my good girl, my perfect angel. I want you to cum so bad, it’ll tip me over the edge- Fuck! I’m gonna fill you up so good, so fucking good-”

You love it when Hyuck talks dirty like this, and you gasp as you get closer and closer to your high-

“Come on,” Hyuck lands a smack to your ass, and the pained pleasure has you crying out, rubbing your clit harder. “Cum for me,” he commands.

It’s all you need to reach the edge, and you fall over it with a loud moan, forcing your eyes to stay open while you stare at Mark, who watches you with parted lips and a dazed expression.

“That’s it, that’s it-” Hyuck grunts, pace faltering as he cums too, fulfilling his promise of filling you up just the way you like it. He fucks you through your highs, and your hand falls from your clit to the bed, body on the cusp of overstimulation as Hyuck’s motions begin to slow.

As things come to a stop, Hyuck lets out a deep breath. “Mark, come over here, you’ve gotta see this.”

“I don’t want to look at your dick,” comes Mark’s quick retort.

“Then don’t look at my dick, look at her pussy with my cum dripping out of it. Trust me, it’s so fucking hot-” Hyuck pulls out of you, and you whine at the loss.

You watch Mark go around the side of the bed, and you can feel both of their eyes on your hole, which is already beginning to drip Hyuck’s cum-

You place a hand under your core, not wanting to get any of this on Mark’s bed, and Hyuck laughs loudly.

“Aren’t you two worried about pregnancy?” Mark asks.

“That’s what birth control is for,” Hyuck says. “Cumming inside feels like nothing else in the whole world.”

“What about STI’s?”

“Well, I mean…” Hyuck gets off the bed, and you watch him grab a tissue from his desk, “we’re only really fucking each other and we’re both clean so…”

“Wait, you two only sleep with each other?” Mark sounds justifiably confused. “So… why aren’t you two… why aren’t you two dating?”

It’s a very good question, and from the way Hyuck brushes it off with a ‘you know’ and a topic change, it feels as if neither of you really have a good answer. “Anyways, you have to try this sometime,” Hyuck says again. “Next Sunday.”

Mark sighs. “Can’t we do this on any day but Sunday?”

“Where would be the fun in that, church bitch?”

You let out a groan of annoyance, but you think you’re starting to understand this is just the way their relationship is.

Getting through a full week while being on the same campus as you is starting to feel like Mark’s own personal Hell. Every time he so much as catches a glimpse of you running between classes, blood rushes to his cock.

Hell, even at soccer practice with Hyuck, every time Mark looks at his forward position roommate, all he can think about is the visual of Hyuck fucking you from behind on his own bed.

By Friday, he’s too pent up to even attend his last class, and he rushes back to the frat to get some shower time.

He’s becoming much too used to jacking off in the shower, but he really can’t help himself.

Mark feels like an absolute sinner, especially with the cross necklace around his neck. Today, something comes over him, and he takes it off, wrapping the gold chain around his right hand. He looks at it for a moment, and there’s almost something like curiosity-

He wraps his hand around his cock, flinching a little at the cold metal on his heated skin. As he begins to move his fist up and down his aching length, the bite of the necklace feels like repentance, like something he deserves.

Mark takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he thinks about you.

He thinks about the sounds you make, the expression on your face as you cum- how your mouth had felt on his throbbing cock-

He can’t believe how easy it is to get himself to the edge, especially with the added pain of the necklace around his hand. Does this make him even worse? It shouldn’t be this easy to cum- it shouldn’t be, but it is.

When he reaches the edge, it’s not God’s name on Mark’s lips, it’s yours.

He gasps, body tingling as he pumps his way through it, the necklace biting into his skin-

“Jesus Christ Mark! Get a fucking room!” comes Jeno’s voice. “Some of us are just trying to fucking shower!”

The outburst makes shame flood through his body, but it also only adds to the powerful sensation in his cock, his cum shooting across his chest.

Mark’s decides he’s definitely going to Hell for this.

Another Saturday win for the soccer team means another frat party, and Hyuck loves the attention you give him on days when he gets a goal. You’re even touchier than usual, praising him for his skills-

Yet, Hyuck finds it hard to focus on you with Mark blatantly staring from across the room.

Hyuck has enjoyed sharing you with his roommate, more than he ever thought he would, but tonight, he wants you for himself, and when you begin kissing his neck, pushing him against the wall, Hyuck’s had enough of this public bullshit.

“My room, now,” he commands.

With a giggle, you turn, darting off towards the stairs, and Hyuck follows you with a smile. As he climbs the steps in twos, he gets a feeling he’s being followed, and he stops on the first landing to turn and look at Mark.

“What are you doing?”

“Huh?” Mark blinks. “I’m uh… coming with you?”

“It’s Saturday.”

“So?”

“So,” Hyuck sighs, “you only get access to angels on Sundays, all good Christians should know that.”

“But-” Mark opens his mouth to argue but Hyuck’s not in the mood for it tonight.

“No joining,” he says firmly. But as he looks at Mark’s defeated expression, Hyuck feels something like pity. “I guess you can stand outside the door and listen, you perv.”

Mark’s skin flares with embarrassment, but as Hyuck continues up the stairs, he gets the suspicion that Mark’s going to do exactly what he’d just suggested.

When you arrive at the frat house on Sunday afternoon, Hyuck is waiting for you in the living room. He pulls you into a kiss, and his lips linger against your own, his fingers digging into your hips. “Are you ready for today, my little demon?”

You laugh. “I’m always ready. But we have to wait till Mark gets back from church.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “We could always start without him.”

“That wouldn’t be very nice,” you note, grinning at your fuck buddy.

“Making me wait isn’t very nice,” Hyuck counters.

“It’s important to learn how to be patient,” you tell him, pressing another peck to his lips. “Come on, I’m sure we can find an episode of something to watch on Netflix.”

When you get to Hyuck’s room, the last thing you expect is to find Mark waiting for you. He’s sitting on his bed, staring at the floor, and his head snaps up as you enter.

“Mark?” You can’t hide your confusion. “Shouldn’t you be at church?”

“I’m not going today,” he states, standing and placing his cross necklace on the bedside table.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, walking over to grab his hands, assessing him for head injury.

“Everything is wrong,” Mark sighs. “Doing this with you two is wrong. Wanting you this badly is wrong. Getting hard in church is wrong. What I want to do to you is wrong. But… as crazy as it sounds, it also feels right.”

Hyuck lets out a whistle behind you, and you hear him locking the door. “Damn, Mark, I’m actually kind of impressed.”

“So…” you look into Mark’s eyes, “does this mean you’re ready?”

He nods. “Yeah… I’m ready.”

“Are you sure about that, church boy?” your fuck buddy asks. “Do you want us to put up a cross and see if it falls down as a sign that God thinks you’re a sinner?”

Mark takes a deep breath, and his eyes shift to Hyuck over your shoulder. “Fuck God, and fuck the cross.”

Your lips part in shock, and Mark takes that moment to grab your face and kiss you. It’s the hungriest kiss you’ve had from him so far, and you melt into his embrace, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and pressing your chest to his own.

His tongue explores yours, as confident as ever, and his hands move down to your hips, needy and rough. When his palm slips down to grab your ass, your moan loudly, all consumed by this new Mark.

“Shit, dude,” Hyuck whispers from behind you. “Guess I should stop calling you church boy.”

Mark lets out a groan, and then he’s tossing you onto his bed. A squeal of delight escapes you at the roughness of it all.

“I wanna taste you,” Mark states, breathing heavily as he looks down at you with dark eyes.

“Then taste me,” you say simply, already grabbing at your pants to push them down.

Mark helps you tug them off, and then his own fingers are hooking in the waistband of your panties, tearing them down your legs with one rough motion.

“Oh my God, Mark-” you gasp, shocked at his sudden change in attitude.

The man who gets on the bed between your legs isn’t the same man who had whimpered while he fingered you two weeks ago. He’s not a soft church boy worried about boundaries, he’s a confident man who knows what he wants. And what he want is you.

You can’t even take a moment to breathe before Mark’s pressing his tongue against your pussy, hands firmly grabbing at your thighs while he licks a stripe of your most sensitive area.

“Fuck,” you groan, reaching down to thread your fingers through his hair.

His response is a moan that sends shivers through your body, his lips suctioning around your clit like he’s a seasoned pro. There’s no hesitation or worry about correctness, there’s only a pussy deprived man who seems to know exactly what to do to have your toes curling as you drag them across his back.

You’ve had good oral sex before, Hyuck’s particularly skilled in this field, but as wild as your fuck buddy is, he’s never been feral like this.

Mark’s tongue is unpredictable, lapping at you and pushing into your hole, teasing your walls as he rubs his nose against your clit. “Shit, Mark, you’re so good-”

“Better than me?” Hyuck asks.

You hate to admit it, but when a strangled “Yes!” leaves your lips, it only makes Mark go harder on you.

You have no brain space to focus on Hyuck, your eyes closed as Mark’s tongue pleasures you like no one ever has before.

It’s like he knows your body already, as if he’s divinely guided-

The thought has your pussy throbbing, and as if he senses your need, Mark lets go of one of your thighs, adjusting so he can slip a finger into you while his tongue returns to your clit.

“Shit, just like that-” you gasp, legs quivering over his shoulders.

Another digits slips into your wet hole, and more moans leave you as the church boy finger fucks you even better than he did last time.

You’re consumed by Mark, completely, and it feels like Heaven to get lost in the pleasure he’s providing you.

You apply a bit of pressure on his head, wanting him to go harder on you, and he rewards you by sucking your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking the sensitive bud.

“Fuck-” you moan, pushing your hips up toward his face. You’re already so close to cumming that it’s almost insane, and you trust that this time, nothing Hyuck could do in your periphery would prompt Mark to let up on you.

He seems Hellbent on getting you to the edge, and as his fingers crook up to stroke your gspot, you know he’s going to accomplish his task with flying colours.

“Sounds like she’s close, dude,” Hyuck muses, reading your reactions like the back of his hand.

When you turn your head to open your eyes, you find Hyuck has his cock out, and he’s stroking it, gaze fixed on the man between your legs.

There’s something so… fulfilling about being watched like this. To know that Hyuck’s just as turned on as you and Mark, even though he’s taking no part in your pleasure.

Hyuck has a nice cock, and the sight of his fist wrapped tightly around it has even more lust coursing through your body.

To have both men worshipping you in this way- it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

“I’m gonna-” you stutter, licking your lips as the pleasure builds between your legs.

“Cum for me,” Mark groans against your pussy. “Please, angel, I want you to cum.”

The ‘please’ is the cherry on top, as is the petname that usually only Hyuck ever uses on you, and combined, they throw you over the edge.

You cry out, rutting your pussy against Mark’s face while he tongue and finger fucks you through your orgasm.

The church boy lets out sinful sounds, and you can tell he’s enjoying being used like this, enjoying making you come undone on his fingers. Your pussy is throbbing around him, and his unrelenting digits continue stroking the spot that has you tinging with overwhelming pleasure.

“Mark!” you nearly scream, overtaken by the kind of ecstasy you’ve never felt before.

“Fuck, dude,” Hyuck breathes, “you made her squirt-”

You’re almost twitching when Mark finally pulls his tongue from your clit, and his fingers slow before slipping out of you. You open your eyes to watch him lick them clean, and he lets out a deep groan, clearly enjoying the taste of you.

You need him to fuck you, like you’ve never needed anyone - even Hyuck - to fuck you in your entire life.

“Please,” you whimper. “Mark-”

“Let me get a condom,” he states, sitting up-

“No!” you reach out to grab at him, locking eyes with him as you state, “I want you raw.”

It’s the first time today that he looks unsure. “I don’t-”

“I’m clean,” you insist, “and so are you-”

“Bruh, just raw dog it,” Hyuck says. “Trust us-”

With one last look between your thighs, Mark relents, and he gets back on the bed, tugging off his shirt and his pants while you work on getting yourself naked.

As soon as you’re both bare, Mark is laying his body over yours, pressing you into the bed while his lips move feverishly against your own. You tangle your fingers in his hair, enjoying the feeling of his cock trapped between your bodies, rubbing over your clit as he rocks his hips.

“Please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Inside-”

Mark pulls away from your lips, breathing heavily as he looks into your eyes. His gaze shifts down, and he reaches a hand to grab the base of his length, teasing it against your pussy.

You moan loudly as he toys with your clit, and then he’s testing the head of his cock against your aching hole. The tip slips just inside and you whimper, only for him to pull back, then do it again-

“God, Mark-” You dig your nails into his shoulders, throwing your head back against the pillows and closing your eyes.

He pushes his cock deeper inside of you, and you both let out groans of pleasure. His mouth returns to yours while he slowly sinks into your pussy, until his hips are flush against your own.

“Fuck,” Mark whimpers, twitching from the new sensation.

“Told you raw was the way to go,” Hyuck says, as if he’s the most helpful person in the room.

Both you and Mark ignore your fuck buddy, and Mark takes a test thrust that has you both gasping.

“Just like that,” you encourage him. “Fuck, you’re doing so good-”

His lips return to yours, and the kiss takes your breath away as he begins to find a slow pace. Each thrust is deep, intentional, and in some odd way, this doesn’t feel like fucking. Fucking is hard, fast, fevered- but this is different. This is more like making love.

Mark sucks on your bottom lip, and he adjusts one of his hands so it can come up to grab at your breast, his thumb ghosting over your nipple and making you shiver. Your body reacts, pussy throbbing around Mark’s cock, and he groans into your mouth.

“Feels like Heaven,” he whispers, massaging your boob with a loving hand.

Your skin tingles at his words. You can take the church boy out of church, but you can't take the church out of the church boy.

His pace is getting faster, and each thrust has the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach. It’s insane how this is Mark’s first time- it sounds like he hadn’t gotten far with the last girl he’d had under him before the Jesus picture incident-

He’s an absolute natural, and each brush of his lips against yours has you feeling closer to him than ever before. His cock fits perfectly in your pussy, and the sounds continuing to escape him tell you that he feels just as good as you do.

“I’m not-” Mark gasps, kisses moving to your throat. “I’m not going to last long-”

“That’s okay,” you assure him, gently rubbing his back. “I’m proud of you.”

He groans, sucking on your neck. Mark’s hand moves down to your hip, anchoring you to the bed while he ruts into you faster. You know you’re close, but it can be hard to cum without clit stimulation, so you sneak your own palm down your abdomen, fingers seeking out your most sensitive spot.

You both groan when you make contact with your clit, and Mark’s breath is hot against your throat. “You close?” he asks.

“Almost,” you nod, rubbing soft circles around your clit while Mark’s cock slides in and out of your pussy.

“Ya’ll better cum quick or I might bust a nut just watching.” Hyuck’s voice makes you laugh, but the laugh quickly becomes a moan as Mark fucks you harder, fingers digging into your hip.

“I’m so close,” Mark whispers. “Please, this feels too good-”

“Mark,” you whimper, loving how sweetly he talks to you while buried balls deep in your pussy.

“Please, angel, I can’t hold on much longer-”

Your skin tingles at the idea that he’s working hard not to cum, that he won’t allow himself to get there until you can reach your high with him. He’s such a soft boy, the most perfectly wonderful man you’ve ever fucked-

“I’m gonna-” you bite at your lip, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of ecstasy that you’re so close to reaching-

“Cum with me,” Mark begs. “Cum with me, angel, cum-”

The desperation in his voice is what finally sends you over the edge, and you gasp as your core clamps down on him. Mark echoes your sound of pleasure, groaning loudly in your ear as his fingers dig into your hip.

You can feel him filling you up, and it makes you extra sensitive as you ride out your orgasm, clutching his shoulders like a lifeline.

To Mark’s credit, he fucks you through it, hips only faltering slightly before the end.

When you’re both done, you pull your hand away from your clit, and Mark all but collapses on top of you, breathing heavily as he buries his face against your neck.

You can hardly have a moment of peace with Mark before Hyuck’s pulling at his shoulder. “My turn,” your fuck buddy insists. “Come on dude, I’ve been waiting forever-”

A laugh bubbles out of you at Hyuck’s antics, and with a loud groan, Mark gets off of you. There’s a dazed look in his eyes as he rolls onto his back in the small twin bed next to you. You wonder if he’s going to just lay there-

Hyuck’s not having it, and he reaches down to scoop you up in his arms, tossing you onto his own mattress.

“Fuck, angel,” Hyuck looks down at your body. “How do you want it?”

You consider it for a moment, and then roll onto your stomach, lifting your hips as an invitation.

Hyuck groans loudly. “God, you’re perfect.”

He’s straddling your legs not a second later, grabbing your waist to tug you up a little bit more while he glides his cock between your closed thighs, grazing your pussy.

“Shit, this is going to be so good,” Hyuck mutters to himself, using one hand to wrap around the base of his cock and guide it to your entrance.

He moans as he slips inside. “Fuck- I’ve never banged you using another guy’s cum as lube before, but shit, angel, I could get used to this.”

His words make you feel dirty, sinful even, a little like a whore- but something inside of you actually enjoys it.

“Hyuck-” you whimper at how good the position feels. With your legs closed and your ass in the air, things feel more snug, and the angle has Hyuck hitting a sweet spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“I know, angel,” Hyuck assures you. “Feels fucking fantastic.”

His breath is hot against your back as he begins rutting into you, and you grab onto Hyuck’s pillow, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne that has perfumed the material.

“You look so good like this,” your fuck buddy says, and the slapping of his hips against your ass is making you go crazy. “I’m never going to get used to the way you look with my cock buried in your perfect fucking pussy.”

Your grip on his pillow tightens, the praise going straight to your core, which throbs around him.

“Yeah, I know you love it when I praise you. You just love being made out to be an angel while doing dirty shit an angel would never do.”

He knows you so well it almost hurts. And when he talks to you like this, it makes you wonder why he hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. Although, if you had been his girlfriend a few weeks ago, you would have never propositioned Mark, and the idea makes you sad.

You open your eyes, looking over at the church boy you’ve come to enjoy spending time with.

Mark’s watching you, and as Hyuck fucks you harder, you have to break the eye contact in favour of pressing your face into the pillow. Your sounds are just getting too loud, even for a frat house.

Your pussy feels like magic, to have been fucked by Mark and now Hyuck- you know you’ll be cumming again soon, whether you want to or not.

“I can feel you clenching, angel,” Hyuck laughs, as if reading your mind. “So this is as good for you as it is for me.”

“So good,” you confirm, which only prompts him to fuck you faster, gliding in and out of your cum lubed hole easier than ever before.

“Watching Mark have you first was torture,” Hyuck tells you. “I was so close to busting multiple times- but I held out, because we both know you’re going to love being filled with us both. Dirty fucking angel.”

You whine at his words, so close to the edge you can almost taste it.

“Don’t be shy,” the man fucking you announces, “cum on this cock. I know you want to.”

Your skin tingles on the cusp of pleasure-

“Be a good little angel and cum for us.”

There’s something about the word ‘us’ that just does it for you, and you let out a loud gasp as you fall apart. Hyuck echoes your sound, fingers digging into your hips as he reaches his own release. He fucks you even harder, groaning while your pussy clenches around his twitching cock.

“Just like that, just like that-” he pants, encouraging you while he rides you through your highs.

You’re not sure how long you cum, but when Hyuck finally slows to a stop inside of you, you think you might just pass out from all the pleasure you’ve received in such a short time.

Your fuck buddy leans over your back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder that moves up to your neck, and you tilt your head to give him better access.

“That’s our angel,” Hyuck muses softly in your ear.

You find yourself smiling. It’s the happiest you’ve been in months.

Nothing else matters, all there is right now is safety and love and acceptance… and maybe a little bit of filth.

When Hyuck pulls out of your pussy, you feel yourself immediately begin to drip, and you do your due diligence, shifting your hand under your body to collect the fluid so it doesn’t ruin Hyuck’s bed.

Your fuck buddy grabs a few tissues, and then he’s sitting by your thighs, spreading your ass cheeks so he can get a good look at you while he groans at the sight.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says, gently wiping your abused hole, cleaning you of his and Mark’s cum. “I don’t think you even know how hot you are.”

He’s probably right about that, but you’re sure that if you keep doing this with him and Mark, they’ll make you learn.

When Hyuck’s done with his very basic aftercare, he flops onto the bed behind you, back to the wall while he cradles you to his chest. His lips return to your shoulder, and the soft kisses make you whimper from sensitivity.

Then- something is falling on you, and you jolt, eyes snapping open-

“Shit,” Hyuck groans, and you realize the soccer poster has slipped off the wall and onto your bodies.

Your gaze immediately goes to Mark, and you see a look of shock in his expression. “Oh my God-”

“It’s not God,” Hyuck assures you both. “It’s probably just Jeno fucking some chick on the other side of the wall.” As if to prove his point, your fuck buddy bangs the wall three times, and a moment later there are three returned bang noises. “See? Totally just Jeno fucking.”

Mark doesn’t look very convinced, and he rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling while he runs his hands through his hair.

“I hope this fucking poster isn’t going to stop you from joining us again next Sunday,” Hyuck says as he pushes the symbol of Jeno’s sex life to the floor.

“Next Sunday?” Mark turns to look at you both.

“Yeah, next Sunday,” Hyuck repeats. “You do want to cum again, don’t you?”

The church boy lets out a deep sigh, but then he’s nodding. “Yeah.”

“Perfect, then it’s settled,” Hyuck grins against your shoulder.

Your fuck buddy is something of an enigma, and you’re never quite sure if you’ve gotten him figured out. He’d started this whole thing being reluctant to allow Mark to join, but now, it seems as if he relishes the thought of having Sunday dick appointments with his best friend.

Although, as you stare at the pretty church boy in the bed across from yours, you really can’t say that you mind.

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🔮 preview. “I’m bad?” Hyuck gasps in shock. “Says the people fucking in an accesibility washroom?” He has a point there, and even Mark lets out a chuckle while he presses his lips firmly to your neck, his hips beginning to thrust so he can glide his cock in and out of your wet pussy.“I expect this from her, but from you, church boy?” Hyuck shakes his head while leaning back against the locked door, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m still shocked by how sinful you’ve become.”

cw/ tw. Exhibitionism, threesome, hand job, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, mention of fingering and pussy eating, praise, some degradation with affectionate use of ‘whore/slut’, the constant ‘sin’ mentions, slight cumplay/leaving panties on after having 2 men’s cum in you, bathroom sex, etc… I petnames. (hers) angel. (mark’s) church boy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2k I teaser wc. 270

🌙 staring. Haechan & Mark x afab!reader

bonus

It’s been something like four months since you and Hyuck invited Mark into your unconventional relationship, and so much has changed since then. Having battled for a long time with perceived self-worth, it seemed that the inclusion of a friend within the relationship was all Hyuck had needed to realize his deeper feelings for you, and feel comfortable enough to share them.

Now, Hyuck’s having the best sex of his life with his two best friends in the entire world. Despite Hyuck’s growth, however, it’s clear that the person most changed by your relationship is none other than the OG church boy himself.

Hyuck had thought he’d been horny when he entered university, but it feels as if Mark’s pent-up energy has made him significantly hornier.

Sitting in class, knowing you and Mark have a spare right now… well, Hyuck can only imagine what the two of you might be up to. As the lecture gets particularly boring, Hyuck pulls out his phone, opening snapchat maps to see if he can pinpoint you and his roommate.

Hyuck’s not shocked to find you were both active on snapchat ten minutes ago, in a building closeby. He’d never been one for maps, but since you and Mark had started fucking, Hyuck had been forced to learn all feasible sexcipade locations on campus. If he’s not mistaken, you and Mark are in one of the single occupancy accessibility bathrooms on the first floor of the arts building, and the thought makes him swallow thickly.

With one last look at his boring teacher, Hyuck grabs his backpack and he slinks out of the lecture hall.

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literaryvein-reblogs · 25 days ago

Note

Writing an oc who's a prostitute? What's the job like? The measures they'll take? It might be lengthy, but stuff like virtual, brothel and escort work?

Writing Notes: Prostitution

Prostitution - the practice of engaging in relatively indiscriminate sexual activity, in general with someone who is not a spouse or a friend, in exchange for immediate payment in money or other valuables.

From the 1980s, the more neutral term sex worker was increasingly employed to describe those involved in commercial sex activities.

"Prostitute" and "sex worker" are shorthand for what is argued to be the more accurate term: “a provider of sexual services for material gain.”

“Pimp” - males who act as intermediaries between client and worker in the exchange of sexual services; he may or may not be in an additional relationship to the woman.

“Madam” - a female brothel-keeper.

The designations “pimp” and “madam” are charged terms. Their usage was common in some historic places and times.

Prostitution is a very old and universal phenomenon; also universal is condemnation of the prostitute but relative indifference toward the client.

Prostitutes may be female or male or transgender, and prostitution may entail heterosexual or homosexual activity, but historically, most prostitutes have been women and most clients men.

Prostitutes are often set apart in some way:

In ancient Rome they were required to wear distinctive dress;

under Hebrew law only foreign women could be prostitutes; and

in pre-World War II Japan they were required to live in special sections of the city.

In medieval Europe prostitution was licensed and regulated by law, but by the 16th century an epidemic of venereal disease and post-Reformation morality led to the closure of brothels.

International cooperation to end the traffic in women for the purpose of prostitution began in 1899.

In 1921 the League of Nations established the Committee on the Traffic in Women and Children, and in 1949 the UN General Assembly adopted a convention for the suppression of prostitution.

In the U.S. prostitution was first curtailed by the Mann Act (1910), and by 1915 most states had banned brothels (Nevada being a notable exception).

Prostitution is nevertheless tolerated in most U.S. and European cities.

In the Netherlands many prostitutes have become members of a professional service union, and in Scandinavia government regulations emphasize hygienic aspects, requiring frequent medical examination and providing free mandatory hospitalization for anyone found to be infected with venereal disease.

Prostitutes are very often poor and lack other skills to support themselves; in many traditional societies there are few other available money-earning occupations for women without family support.

In developing African and Asian countries, prostitution has been largely responsible for the spread of AIDS and the orphaning of hundreds of thousands of children.

It is difficult to generalize about the background or conditions of prostitutes because so much of what is known about them derives from studies of poorer and less-privileged individuals, people who are more likely to come into contact with courts and official agencies.

Much more is known about streetwalkers, for example, than about the higher-status women who can be more selective about their clients and work conditions.

Based on available studies, though, it is reasonable to assert that female sex workers often are economically disadvantaged and lack skills and training to support themselves.

Many are drawn at an early age into prostitution and associated crime, and drug dependency can be an aggravating factor.

They frequently are managed by a male procurer, or pimp, or by a supervisor, or madam, in a house of prostitution.

Health hazards to prostitutes include sexually transmitted diseases, some of which may be acquired through drug abuse.

Male prostitution has received less public attention in most cultures.

Heterosexual male prostitution—involving males hired by or for females—is rare.

Homosexual male prostitution has probably existed in most societies, though only in the 20th century was it recognized as a major social phenomenon, and its prevalence increased during the late 20th and early 21st century.

Prostitution during the Victorian age gained an unprecedented amount of attention from both British society and their government.

Although issues of prostitution were, and are often still, seen in black and white, there were many cases where prostitution was either a supplementary activity or the only available avenue of employment.

It was an unsavory profession, and, unfortunately, it was often considered a necessary evil.

However, it is important to note that although it was an activity highly frowned upon by upper class women in society, these same women were the first to rally to the cause of those “fallen women” that were being exploited by the government.

The popularity of issues concerning prostitution eventually lessened over time, but the resulting influences sparked by feminist movements involved in prostitute’s rights created a ripple effect that can be seen even today.

Working & Living Conditions. Key factors have shaped the working and living conditions of sex workers across the globe since the beginning of the 17th century.

These include the degree to which women were bound or “free”, or were able to exercise power in relation to employers and clients. Related to this is the location of individual women within the sex industry—where they existed within any particular hierarchy based on the class of clients, ethnicity, and so on.

Market forces have also been major determinants of the pay and working conditions in the sex industry. Shifts in the economy have impacted sex workers as well as other workers, affecting both the demand for sexual services and the supply of women willing to sell sex.

A third major influence on sex workers’ lives has been the responses to prostitution of the community in which they worked. This has included both informal and official responses which often determined where and how women could sell sex and under what circumstances.

The formation, expansion, and disintegration of nations and empires have had a similar impact on the market for sex and have contributed to official responses to prostitution.

Finally, developments in technology and medicine, especially since the early 20th century, have contributed to significant changes in the ways in which sexual services are delivered and also impacted the health of sex workers.

Prostitution is considered to be a profession of high mobility; it is almost tempting to say that probably every prostitute migrates at least once in her lifetime.

Despite this fact, the share of prostitutes in the flows over and across the continents has been widely neglected in migration studies.

Migration is thought to be a “basic condition of human societies” and “central to the human experience [and] the major forces for historical change.”

Nevertheless, many studies focus solely on the movements of European male settlers. In particular, labour migration was long held to be a male domain, keeping up the idea of males as breadwinners and the main actors in history.

Hoerder offers up the critique that migration studies emphasize “the westward flow of agrarian settlers and neglect [the] moves of workers and of women”

Changing places is a lifetime experience of women involved in the sex sector, and in many cases, they travel far more than people in other sectors.

The Social Profiles of Prostitutes. There is no shortage of media portrayals of prostitutes. Yet the images that inform our opinions regarding sex workers tend to be largely negative, depicting them as either criminals or as victims.

Today, the latter perception prevails: sex workers are stereotypically seen as:

young,

migrant girls with

no education and

no alternatives.

The most conspicuous types of prostitutes tend to be overrepresented, while those operating in private have largely been overlooked.

In addition to which, the “facts” about the sex workers represented in the sources may not always be entirely correct, as they might have told their interlocutors what they believed would best serve their needs, rather than what was true.

The social profiles of sex workers have changed considerably over the course of the last 400 years.

Prostitute populations have become more heterogeneous in terms of their origin, race, age, family situation, educational level, and professional background—albeit at different paces.

Example: Migrants did not suddenly appear in the western European sex trade after the fall of the Berlin Wall. Rather, they were always present, and always overrepresented in the prostitute population. What actually changed over time are the distances covered.

Similarly, prostitutes’ ages have altered in tandem with developments in society at large, most notably lengthier childhoods and a later start to working life.

While it is definitely true that certain people have limited options for survival, the high degree of diversity among sex workers clearly shows that prostitution cannot be reduced to a profession of the destitute, or one which people passively end up in.

In fact, people who are not members of so-called “vulnerable” groups might be more numerous in the sector than anticipated because of their invisibility.

The sex industry is highly stratified, and individuals with better prospects take the places at the top of the hierarchy more often than those with limited possibilities.

These women have chosen to use their bodies to create a financial surplus, and they are thought to face fewer dangers than the prostitutes working at the lower end of the market.

It seems easier for people to accept that these women actively chose their profession, and harder to view them as passive victims.

However, their underlying reasons are not necessarily different from the masses employed at the industry’s margins.

Although some women are forced into prostitution against their will one way or another, this is certainly not the case for all sex workers, let alone the majority.

Most prostitutes are driven by opportunity, and the fact that most have fewer opportunities than their contemporaries does not change that.

Simply put, prostitution can be emancipatory.

It can be a positive choice, rather than just a negative one.

Profile characteristics do not explain why people use their bodies to earn an income, but they do explain why certain people end up in the most visible and least rewarding sectors of the profession.

Brothel - a building in which prostitutes are available; bordello

Bordello - (somewhat literary) a building in which prostitutes are available

Public brothels were established in large cities throughout Europe.

At Toulouse, in France, the profits were shared between the city and the university; in England, bordellos were originally licensed by the bishops of Winchester and subsequently by Parliament.

Stricter controls were imposed during the 16th century, in part because of the new sexual morality that accompanied the Protestant Reformation and the Counter-Reformation. Just as significant was the dramatic upsurge of sexually transmitted diseases. Sporadic attempts were made to suppress brothels and even to introduce medical inspections, but such measures were to little avail.

By 1915 nearly all states had passed laws that banned brothels or regulated the profits of prostitution.

After World War II, prostitution remained prohibited in most Western countries, though it was unofficially tolerated in some cities.

Many law-enforcement agencies became more concerned with regulating the crimes associated with the practice, especially acts of theft and robbery committed against clients. Authorities also intervened to prevent girls from being coerced into prostitution (“white slavery”).

Prostitution is illegal in most of the United States, though it is lawful in some counties in Nevada.

In most Asian and Middle Eastern countries, prostitution is illegal but widely tolerated: Among predominantly Muslim countries, Turkey has legalized prostitution and made it subject to a system of health checks for sex workers, and in Bangladesh prostitution is notionally legal but associated behaviours such as soliciting are prohibited. In some Asian countries the involvement of children in prostitution has encouraged the growth of “sex tourism” by men from countries where such practices are illegal.

Many Latin American countries tolerate prostitution but restrict associated activities (e.g., In Brazil, brothels, pimping, and child exploitation are illegal).

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

This was a bit difficult to summarise, but I tried to include a wide range of information from different sources. In general, take into account the setting of your story so you can choose which of these references would be most appropriate to use as inspiration for your writing. Do go through the links above because there are details I wasn't able to include here that might be more suitable for your specific story. Hope this helps!

#writing notes #writing reference #character development #writeblr #literature #writers on tumblr #dark academia #spilled ink #history #writing prompt #creative writing #writing ideas #writing inspiration #light academia #writing resources

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fleetingpetal · 1 month ago

Text

⠀⠀──── . + TO THE NEW AND BEYOND.

͏ જ⁀➴ the third dawn of each year was the same dawn that gifted the purple hues now inhabiting your life. and beneath those dawn-kissed clouds resides the individual who shone as bright as the moon, awaiting the rising sun to greet him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀── ꒰⁠ THE ECCENTRIC SQUAD ꒱⁠˖ truckload of fluff.

creation notes ꣑꣒ 3.1k words , kabukimono's segment is set in his series , kunikuzushi's and wanderer's are separate timelines , a bonus is added for fun because he ( who isn't kuronushi ) deserves a bit of attention too.

content warnings ꣑꣒ while this is largely fluff; there's a bit of hurt with comfort if you squint. all and all; there is nothing serious of note other than spoilers. the styling is a bit all over the place .. i wrote a lot of these on the brinck of passing out ( it's way past my bedtime as we speak ).

additional notes ꣑꣒ happy birthday wanderer, and happy belated birthday @kabumochi ᰔᩚ this is long overdue, but hope you like it nonetheless (^^

星. ( 839 words. )

kuronushi's manner of celebration is to let the day pass. it's not much in the grand scheme of things, honestly. writing, practicing for an upcoming performance, having tea... all in a day's work, and in his perspective; enough of a celebration. he's still here, is he not? that's something to commemorate.

of course, such a perspective changed when you unceremoniously invited yourself into the confines of his heart; as any other cliche love story goes. however, there was something regarding your method that struck a foreign cord within his ribcage — it couldn't be your enthusiasm, and it most certainly couldn't be because you had to.

the fifth kasan wasn't the best with kindred spirits such as yours, straying far beyond the realms of his comprehension to a degree that intrigues him rather than perplexes him. and to say that he woke up in the dead of night to feel nothing within his embrace wasn't a surprise. faint hums, the slow and steady steps; ensuring he's resting. “you never sit, do you...?” he mutters a tad groggily to himself with a slight, amused smile.

the reluctance to guide himself out of bed wasn't enough to overtake his desire in seeking your presence, taking a rather leisure time in making the journey to the kitchen, not letting out a sound as the shoji door slides open. and a softer smile adorns kuronushi's exhausted face in an instant upon spotting your familiar silhouette, too preoccupied with whisking the matcha powder for what one can only presume to be his favorite ‘sweet’ treat. not bothering to pay much mind to whatever you were making, he greets you with a loose embrace from behind, and his lips on the bridge of your neck and shoulder.

“songbird...” the endearment slips in a whisper against your skin, cold breath sending the slightest tingle down your spine. his voice was weighed with sleep just as his figure pressed against your own from behind was. “what's occupying you this late, hm?”

“care to guess?” you counter with a small smile, not as fazed by the sudden greeting. his heart is set aflutter seeing that smile of yours, as ever. “too early for this.” the almost instantaneous response earns him a slight chuckle out of you, a sound that soothes his drowsy soul. you abandon your preparations for the morning for now, directing your full and undivided attention to a loopy kuronushi.

little to no words were exchanged as you accommodate, turning yourself around to face him. that earlier inquiry hung in the air, and a gleam of excitement illustrated your gaze. such a sight only ignited his wonder further, trailing a hand to softly cradle your cheek and the other still securely yet loosely maintaining the proximity. he needn't voice his curiosity, for you already know.

“as you know, i couldn't sleep, so i figured i can make some early preparations. simply put,”

“happy birthday, 'nushi.”

you don't mince words nor give him a moment to prepare for such a simple, heartfelt wish. spoken with a smile. and the expression you fetch isn't a new one; the tinge of surprise adorning his gaze clashing with something you cannot make out. it doesn't take long for a smile to adorn his face, and soon enough; a subtle chuckle. as his fingers slowly trailed a path to the back of your head, gently combing through your locks. “sweetheart,” he utters, drowsy voice carried by that smile of his.

“couldn't you have waited until the morning to tell me this?” “surely you don't believe i can?”

a series of subtle chuckles follow suit this time, unable to resist feathering a lingering kiss to your forehead before adding more of his peace on the matter. “once you return to sleep, perhaps you can.” he muses while drawing himself away just about enough to meet your gaze. “we'll...” a pause. “...we'll take the day together.” you nearly beam at the prospect. “promise?”

kuronushi's manner of celebration is to let the day pass. but maybaps...

“i promise, songbird.” he whispers, pausing on threading through your hair to cradle your cheek once more. fondness painting the blank canvas of exhaustion that presently outlined every part of him. in a moment of weakness, he rests his forehead against yours, midnight locks grazing your skin. he cannot prevent his smile from returning upon feeling the light kiss to his lips, not hesitating to reciprocate before eventually withdrawing after a short moment.

“now,” you hummed, gazing at his tea set perched atop the wooden table from over your shoulder. “what'd you say to tidying this up then returning to bed?”

“not remarking about my ‘loopy’ state this time?” “thanks, but no thanks. it's too early for your own games.”

kuronushi didn't push his luck, merely allowing a breathy chuckle to roll off his lips before relenting to his desires again. after all,

“that aside... i would prefer that.”

he had a whole day ahead of him tomorrow. only you and him against a never ending mundanity.

太陽. ( 731 words. )

kabukimono never really knew the concept of birthdays. they weren't entirely foreign, but his knowledge maintained a fair distance from that very concept all the same. merely familiar with the name rather than the custom.

it didn't sprout in the back of his mind for a while until izumi brought it up to you in the midst of cooking a simple breakfast a month prior at the time, with the eccentric puppet listening in with keen curiosity. “isn't your birthday in a few days, (name)?” the little one asked while taking a sip of water. “mhm. on the third of december. why, are you hoping we spend it collecting melons again?” a soft smile adorned your face as you look over at your little brother, said smile softening upon seeing his silent affirmation while taking yet another sip of water.

a pair of curious eyes, however, never quit observing you. directing your attention back to your cooking buddy; kabukimono. “a birthday?” he inquires with a slightly raised brow, to which you and izumi share a glance before looking back at him in sync. quite frankly, he was starting to grow a little nervous under the surprised looks of yours and the little boy's. though it didn't reside within him for long once that ever familiar understanding smile grazed your features.

“a birthday is the day you were born.” you enlighten his inquiry, plain and simple, but for some reason; the young soul appeared rather solemn. to a certain extent, but not enough to elude you. “kabuki?” the little one chimed in, sewen doll in hand as he stood beside between you and his friend.

“ah... it's nothing.” he reassured with a slight smile, subtly shaking his head to emphasize his point. you were aware of the silence that was about to follow, almost instantly occupying it by resuming cutting the lavender melons. kabukimono followed, feeling a lump in his throat; guilt weighing him down. goodness; why did he have to be so careless? was a recurring thought.

“...you mentioned you were found by a swordmaster from tatarasuna, right?”

your inquiry rendered him to pause and glance to your direction again. you earn yourself a slight nod in response. “if you don't mind me asking,” you begin, hesitant and with gentle reproach. “when were you found?”

truthfully; you and izumi felt a flicker of relief wash over your beings upon seeing kabukimono's eyes light up. he ensured to take a moment before responding, just as you patiently awaited him. “the third of january.”

your head immediately turned to his direction, while izumi tensed with what one presumed to be excitement. something akin to it, at least.

“that's...” “it's today!”

you did not dare ask why he couldn't have told you two sooner, but that didn't matter much in the grand scheme of things now. “izumi,” the little boy looked up to meet your gaze, reciprocating your expectant smile with a bright one. “mind taking kabuki to our usual go-to spot?”

“what? but—” kabukimono attempted to protest, wanting to keep his promise of assisting you with breakfast, but you kindly interject. “it's alright. it's only my portion left anyway, i'll join you two once i'm done. here's your lavender melon soup,” you hand the bowl to your friend then turn to the little one. “and here's yours, little brother. careful now.” you remind the two before encouraging them to set off before you.

a mere wanderer he once was, not much to his name and identity; distant and detached. but right there and then, as he carefully guided izumi to carefully sit beside him, soon greeted with you joining them as per your word... the hot, salty and herbal liquid of the soup residing within the bowl between his palms, his closet friends, no — family, sitting beside him and watching the sunrise under the shades of rosy petals dancing to inazuma's faint melodies, pink and purple hues of dawn gently kissing you three chatting the early morning away, and at that moment;

“happy birthday, kabuki!” izumi beams, beaming whilst offering his portion of lavender melon soup as a gift. the endearing sight rendering a quiet, delighted laugh to flood past your lips.

from kabukimono's perspective, reduced to the same fragile soul he once was ( always had been ) but in the eyes of who saw him as their own,

he was the happiest they've seen him.

月. ( 841 words. )

scaramouche was never present for his birthday. always preoccupied with his duties, confined within the doctor's laboratory, so on and so forth... another boring day as it ever were, nothing more, nothing less.

the thought of doing nothing never stayed it's welcome on his agenda. even with his secretary around; those papers will keep piling, and the soldiers will require ten times the training. there was never room for free time, and on a day traditionally celebrated? absolutely not. besides,

“it's redundant.” the balladeer has long since convinced himself of that notion. for his manner of celebration was but a loop of the same things over, and over, and over —

he paused by the entrance to his office, fingertips hovering over the handle attached to the door. with a slight, exasperated sigh, not looking forward to the pile of papers that was going to greet him; he pushed the door open. however, a different surprise awaited him.

perched on the left side to the table was a that good old pile of papers, but it's settled to the left. far enough to allow room for cake and a whole tea set to accompany the empty space of the desk. “...” perplexed was the most likely the best way to sum it up. didn't help that you asked for a break today, so— “(name)?” shit. he didn't mean to let the slight confusion slip.

seated more than comfortably on scaramouche's chair was none other than the renowned angel of the sixth harbinger's subordinates ( in their eyes ); you. a cup of tea in hand as you do... nothing. hearing your name echo throughout the cozy space of his office; you spun the chair around just enough to meet his gaze. “welcome back.” you smile, assisting yourself back on your own feet.

“the warm welcome is nice, but what are you doing here? did you not want to take a break after your needless insisting yesterday?” the balladeer crossed his arms over his chest, raising a brow by the littlest bit. skeptic and displeased as ever. “i did, but it's over now.” you murmur while situating your teacup down, taking the empty teacup and filling it to nearly the brim with piping hot green tea. situating the little thing atop the small plate then extending the cup out to him. “here.”

his eyes darted down to the teacup in your hand, lips pursed by the slightest bit. you don't fail to notice the way he glanced at the neatly organized pile of papers. ”if you're worried about that; i wrapped them up for you.”

“pardon?” “i'm serious.”

“all of it?” he made the effort to double check, to which you feign offense at. “so much for trusting your secretary.” but the play did linger for long, encouraging him to take the teacup. “but yes, all of it. because today; you're the one on break.”

“i am sorry, what—” “not another word, thank you.”

scaramouche parted his lips to protest, but nothing came out. beneath the indifference was someone who, quite frankly, was tired. with a subtle huff, he walked past you, easing his coat off his shoulders and perching it on the unoccupied chair you often made yourself comfortable on. his muscles relax by the slightest bit as soon as he sat down. and this cake... “and this is for?” he eyed you from his more than comfortable position as you sat on the edge of the desk, taking a sip of his tea. the hot beverage soothing him more than he figured it would. this whole set-up felt a bit... suspect.

“you, silly.” “alright; why are you all chummy today, hm?”

you couldn't suppress the soft chuckle that escaped you, earning you a further hint of confusion in his gaze rather than skepticism. “it's your birthday, no?” in a rare moment of weakness; kunikuzushi's expression falters. pieced with subtle shock via the way his eyes widened by the littlest bit before he snapped himself out of it.

but what could he possibly say to that? not when the first two times you did this; he foresaked you for work. “anywho... the bakery was closed, so i gave my best shot at making your favorite dessert.” you beamed, enough to snap him out of another train of thought. scaramouche directed his gaze to the cake again. dark chocolate, with a stupid looking version of him drawn in the center of the pastry. “how ridiculous...” he muttered to himself, uncaring to whether you caught his words or not.

you watch intently as he sliced a piece at his own pace, though indifferent as ever, he's slightly content. progress. he occupied himself with a small bite, the bitterness delightful enough to send his inner mind to a state of bliss. the one you're watching however, “never bake again.” “hey now; i spent days perfecting this stupid recipe with columbina.”

kunikuzushi chuckled heartily into his second bite at your words, rolling his eyes before reaching for his teacup to take a sip.

so much for celebrating a birthday.

日食. ( 740 words. )

the wanderer had only recently begun ‘celebrating’ his birthday. a small gathering with nahida and you mostly, but nothing beyond it since the akademiya often took up his time. however, you and the little sprout wanted something more special for him. so long as it wasn't grandiose under your suggestion, there should be no problem.

and now? you are in the akademiya. same as your eccentric wanderer in every regard.

break times were a hardship like the abundance of lectures you two take together. and honestly? you can understand why he spends most of his time scribbling random things instead of taking notes, these lectures are nothing short of boring, eventful only on rare cases where the wanderer is competing.

his side of this little mishap on nahida's end, though... he's taking a bit of enjoyment in having a familiar face around, everytime he'd glance to your side; he would smile in amusement at your predicament then resume scribbling whatever came to mind.

then passing the paper to you.

‘drowsy much?’ his little note read the first time you two begun making this a habit. slowly, as time flew, it evolved into both notes and scribbles alike. with now being such an example. almost everyone familiar with him within the akademiya's boarders is seeking to wish him well on his birthday at most, enigmatic as he was with little to no information regarding him aside from you and the little sprout. it didn't elude the wanderer, your giddiness that is. but oddly of all; you've been avoiding him like the plague.

in the midst of another lecture, he passed you a note. ‘mind indulging my curiosity?’ the note read, and you did as stated... by playing pretend. ‘regarding what?’ you wrote beneath his inquiry. his gaze softened slightly.

‘you're not exactly slick, you know.’ he paused and directed his attention to the professor, toying with the pen between his fingers. feigning his attentive attention before returning to the topic at hand. ‘avoiding me.’

peculiarly to wanderer; you smiled softly. giving him the attention he's been lacking since this morning. rather than writing something in response, you resort to scribbling something. a cup of tea...? he eyed you from the side before adding his own. a cat glaring at you. you do your utmost to prevent even the slightest chuckle from escaping you, holding your unoccupied hand up to your lightly pursed lips curved up into a smile. he found the sight quite cute, with the sunlight emitting from the large windows illuminating your features.

once having took a moment to recollect yourself, you pick up your pen and began drawing something atop the cat's head. a birthday hat.

the small smile of amusement faded from wanderer's face, replaced with an expression of acknowledgement with a hint of feigned bemusement. ‘be serious, (name).’ he wrote for you then added on. ‘i was a little serious, i'll admit.’ you respond on your shared piece of paper then finally take the chance to allow your request to seep through, now that the jig was up. ‘meet me at our usual spot?’ he doesn't respond verbally, giving a subtle nod. how could he say no to you, really.

‘i'll see you then.’ his expression spoke.

once the akademiya side of things would be over; you two would spend some alone time before stopping by the sanctuary. and it was then that vulnerabilities slowly open, though subtle. his past but a frozen dream, lost to all time, erased and set free. but when the wanderer saw your gift; it was akin to reopening a gash. but in the gentlest manner possible.

“ever since you made me that doll; i thought to reciprocate the gesture.” you murmur as you two settle under the shades, a doll you sew resting softly on the palms of your hand. resembling you to an extent. “just as you are with me, i am now with you. even in the closet distance.” your beaming smile as you uttered those words was incredibly unnecessary, he wanted to convince himself.

“...you never settle, do you?” wanderer mused to himself mostly. a kindness such as this never recoils, carrying the taste of a forgiveness that if it were for the him in a past long gone would deem undeserving. but you won't take that to heart.

“happy birthday again.”

you murmur once again, to which he responded by loosely entwining his fingers with yours.

BONUS !!

the wanderer who prior to obtaining his memories and vision :: greatly prioritizes your happiness on his own day. to an uncanny extent; he somewhat believes he isn't enough for you, doesn't truly deserve you because unlike you; he's incomplete. but he doesn't take that to heart all that much.

a lot of letters. he thoroughly enjoys writing his feelings about the day he spent with you down in his journal and unapologetically sends a copy over, knowing that you'll adore it to bits. just as he loves you unapologetically in silence and earnest.

#✦ㅤ⎯ㅤ ꒰͡⠀ ׅ the eccentrics' love letters. 𝆬⠀⠀͡꒱ ׂㅤ #— stellaronhvnters.#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kuronushi #kuronushi x reader #kabukimono #kabukimono x reader #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader

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aanoia · 3 months ago

Text

Orphic (pt.2)

pairing; Ao'nung x Sully!reader Orphic; (adj.) mysterious and entrancing; beyond ordinary understanding words; 4,727 warnings; injury, mentions of death Pt. 1; Pt. 3 I'd like to quickly explain why the Metkayina kids call Lo'ak and Kiri "four-fingered" freaks instead of "five-fingered" freaks, because I was confused about it for a while. The gist of it is that the Na'vi don't consider the thumb a finger, so techincally the pure Na'vi have three fingers and a thumb, and those with human blood have four fingers and a thumb :) (maybe I'm just stupid but yeah in case anyone shared the same confusion) Personally, I think this chapter is better quality. Eventually, I'll go back and heavily revise chapter one :) If you have any contstructive criticism PLEASE dm me, I'd love love love to hear from others on how I can improve my writing. It's always been a silly little dream of mine to publish my own novel, and I'll accept any help I can get.

The sea clans are a world unto themselves.

The salty, warm air tickles her nose as she breathes deeply. The sea and the magnificent creatures it houses are truly beautiful. Her father had once explained the concept of a vacation to the girl, a getaway to escape life for a short amount of time. For the time being, the girl has decided to push aside the grief of leaving behind her home, and she'll simply view their absence as a vacation.

Thousands of islands. An known territory into which we could just vanish without a trace.

“Are we there yet?” Tuk breaks the silence, her voice laced with sleep.

Y/n's lips curve upwards, “Look.” She points to the approaching island, thick with foliage and beaches around the edges. Tuk’s face lights up, and upon passing the reef, the water below lightens significantly. The Metkayina people holler and whoop at the sight of newcomers, both out of fear and wonder. The differences between these people and the ones in air are stark and noticeable. A Na'vi blows air through a large conch shell, which emits a horn sound to alert the village of the family approaching.

The beauty of the village and its intricately woven maruis entrance Y/n, and she gazes at it in wonder. Her father yips, and the Sully family finally lands on a patch of sand. The ikrans squawk loudly, their wings finally finding rest. the family dismounts, and the foreign feeling of sand beneath Y/n's toes makes her smile. Her leg has healed enough to no longer need crutches, much to her father's dismay, she's able to limp forward without any assistance.

“Hey, leave it.” Her father gently instructs his mate. “On me.” She glares at Jake for a second, before reluctantly leaving her father's bow on her ikran.

“Who are they?” Tuk asks her mother softly.

Neytiri's eyes scan the crowd with a scrutinizing gaze, “Be nice.” She responds.

As a sign of peace, Jake holds his hands up in an attempt to prove he means no harm. He's the head of the family, and Y/n stands next in front of Kiri and her brothers, almost in a protective way. The crowd parts, and a large boy walks through, his held high. A smaller boy with kind eyes follows him dutifully. The first boy intrigues Y/n, and she keeps eyes on him. Her brothers quietly sign ‘I See You’ to the two, but neither reciprocate.

“Easy, just be cool.” Jake leads his family. The tall boy stalks behind Y/n and her siblings, and studies their tails with a weird look.

“What is that?” The smaller boy asks, pointing at Neteyam’s tail.

“Is that supposed to be a tail?” This time it was the taller boy that spoke. The crowd murmurs, a few laughing, and Y/n hisses softly at him, which earned her a stern look from her father. She sighs and instead looks at the sand. A beautiful girl emerges girl emerges from the sea, and Y/n can hear Lo'ak’s breath catch. She exchanges a knowing look with Neteyam, a small grin on their faces.

“It’s too small. How are they supposed to swim?” The small one questions.

The girl slaps the boy's hand, “Enough, Rotxo, Ao’nung.” She scolds quietly and turns to the foreign family with a gentle face.

“Hey.” Lo’ak says smoothly, and Y/n glances at him weirdly as the girl laughs shyly. Y/n’s attention shifts to yelping, and a man mounted on a large flying fish lands in the water. He dismounts gracefully, and his status as Olo’eyktan is apparent by his dressings.

Tonowari was the chief of the Metkayina, the Reef People.

“Olo’eyktan. I See you, Tonowari.” Jake touches his hand to his forehead and extends it to the man.

Tonowari does the same, “Jakesully.” His voice is rough, but has a kind undertone to it.

I knew he was a tough leader. But it wasn’t Tonowari I was worried about.

An intimidating woman, makes her way through the crowd, staring at the family with caution in her large eyes. Y/n knows she is Ronal, the Tsahik of the Metkayina.

“I See you, Ronal. Tsahik of the Metkayina.” Her mother and father extend the same greeting.

“Why do you come to us, Jakesully?” Tonowari asks, glancing at the faces in his group.

“We seek uturu.”

“Uturu?” Ronal asks incredulously.

Jake nods, “Yes, a sanctuary for my family.” Ronal steps forward as Tonowari speaks.

“We are Reef People. You are Forest People. Your skills will mean nothing here.” Y/n bows her head as Ronal passes her. She silently greets her with her fingers to her forehead. Ronal narrows her eyes at her leg, but moves past her without a word.

“But we will learn your ways. Am I right?” He asks his mate, who gives a curt nod.

“Yes.” Ronal grabs Neytiri’s tail, inspecting it. She drops it and takes Tuk’s arm.

“Their arms are thin. Their tails are weak.” Kiri yelps as Ronal takes hold of her tail. “You will be slow in the water.” She grabs Kiri’s wrist, and looks at her hands. Y/n has to refrain from showing any irritation. “These children are not even true Na’vi!”

The crowd gasps as Kiri tugs her hands away, “Yes, we are!”

Ronal moves to Lo’ak’s hand instead, “They have demon blood!” The crowd exclaims, and a few people take defensive stances, growling and hissing at the group as Lo’ak stares at the sand.

“Look.” Jake holds his hand up to show five fingers. “Look. Look, I was born of the Sky People and now I am Na’vi. All right? You can adapt. We will adapt.”

“My husband was Toruk Makto.” Neytiri adds, her eyes narrowed at Ronal. She steps forward. “He led the clans to victory against the Sky People.”

“This you call victory? Hiding among strangers?” She glances at Jake. “It seems Eywa has turned her back on you, Chosen One.” Neytiri snarles and hisses at Ronal angrily, and the pregnant woman returns the favor, her eyes widened.

Jake steps between the two slightly, “I apologize for my mate. She’s…”

“Do not dare apologize for me-”

“Flown a long way and she’s exhausted.”

“Jake.”

Tonowari jumps in, “Toruk Makto is a great war leader. All Na’vi people know his story. But we Metkayina people are not at war. We cannot let you bring your war here.” Jake carefully picks Tuk up upon her request.

“I’m done with war. Okay? I just want to keep my family safe.” Tonowari and Ronal share a look.

“Uturu has been asked.” Neytiri finalizes, and Y/n holds her breath. The leaders of the Metkayina people share a silent conversation with their eyes.

Tonowari takes a deep breath before turning to face his people, “Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us. Treat them as our brothers and sisters. They do not know the sea, so they will be like babies. Taking their first breath. Teach them our ways so they do not suffer the shame of being useless.

Jake nods, looking down at Tuk, “Okay, what do we say?”

“Thank you.” Tuk smiles widely at Tonowari. The rest of the family thank the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik as well. Y/n can feel eyes on her, but she ignores it, assuming it's the judgemental eyes of the crowd.

“My son, Ao’nung, and our daughter, Tsireya, will show your children what to do.”

The boy steps forward defiantly, “Father, why do-”

“It is decided.”

The girl, Tsireya, steps forward with an easy smile, “Come, I will show you our village.”

Y/n smiles softly at Tuk as the small girl giggles at all the new things. She takes a special liking to a creature the Metkayina ride. Kiri urges her forward, and she bounces to her side. Tsireya leads the family into a large marui, and Y/n looks around the beautifully crafted homes.

“This is for you.” Tsireya says softly. “You’re new home.”

Jake smiles, “Yeah, this will work.” He takes a few steps inside, looking around. “This is great. It’s nice, right?” He asks his wife, who simply drops her mat distastefully.

A few hours later, Y/n is sitting at the edge of their morai, her dangling feet just barely touching the water as she watches some clan members fish. Her brothers pass by her, but Neteyam lingers by her side, wanting to join his twin.

“Sully’s, fall in.” Their father commands.

Neteyam sighs and offers his hand, “Come on, sis.”

She tears her eyes away from the Fishman, and nods simply, allowing him to help her. The two go inside the morai and kneel down with their family.

“Come on. Take a knee. Let’s go.” Jake urges, looking around at his family.

“Kiri!” Neytiri quietly scolds, shooting the girl a pointed look.

“What?” Kiri mutters as she reluctantly kneels.

“Okay. I need you kids on your best behavior. I mean it. Learn fast. Pull your weight.” He looks directly at Lo’ak. “Don’t cause trouble, all right?”

Lo’ak nods, “Yes, sir.”

“I want to go home.” Tuk cries, shoulders slumped in defeat. She wipes her eyes with a small sob.

“Oh, Tuk.” Neytiri coos softly, her face scrunching with the pain of seeing her youngest child cry.

“Tuk, this is our home now. Now, we’re gonna get through this. We’re gonna get through this if we have each other’s backs. All right?”

“What does your father always say?” Neytiri asks her children.

“Sully's stick together.” The eldest three mumble together.

“Yeah, that’s right. Sully's stick together.” He pats Kiri's knee gently. “Now this time with some feeling.”

“Sully’s stick together.” They all repeat, louder and more proudly.

Tsireya, Ao’nung, and Rotxo dive gracefully into the water as the Sully kids watch. Y/n steps forward, looking at the water curiously.

“Come on.” Neteyam nudges Y/n as him and Lo’ak run past her. A laugh escapes her lips as she runs after them, pushing through the dull ache in her leg as she jumps. The water feels nice around her skin, cooling it down significantly. Kiri and Tuk jump in after the three, and together the five of them awe at the completely different world that hides beneath the surface.

Y/n smiles at the fish swimming around, and she carefully swims forward, going in the direction of the other three. She’s rather slow in the water, but she doesn’t mind. It gives her time to marvel at the creatures swimming around her head. They slowly follow their guides, but eventually the Sully kids have to swim up for air. Their heads pop out of the water and they gasp to fill their lungs.

Y/n laughs softly. “It’s beautiful down there.” She says with a grin, and Lo’ak raises a brow. “You saying that about the fish or fish lips?” He teases and Y/n rolls her eyes, splashing him with water.

“You’re a hypocrite, you know?”

“Both of you are very annoying.” Neteyam sighs. The group stick their heads back into the water, and Tsireya uses her hands to speak to them, but they just stare blankly. She smiles in amusement and instead decides to motion them along. The siblings take another deep breath and swim after them. It doesn’t take long for the kids to need air again and the Metkayina kids swim up to the surface after them.

“Are you all right?” Tsireya asks kindly, her face showing worry.

“You’re too fast!” Tuk whines. “Wait for us!”

“Just breathe.” Tsireya instructs calmly as her brother pops his head out of the water, a look of disdain on his features.

“You are not good divers.” He says matter of factly, and Y/n rolls her eyes. “Maybe good at swinging through trees, but…” Rotxo laughs as Tsireya hits his head.

“Come on, bro. We don’t speak this finger talk.” Neteyam complains, irritated at Ao'nung's comments.

“Yeah, we don’t know what you’re saying.” Lo’ak agrees with a subtle nod, looking at Tsireya.

“I will teach you.” She promises gently.

“Where is Kiri?” Rotxo asks, looking around.

“Who?” Ao’nung asks.

“Kiri. Where is Kiri?”

“She’s alright.” Y/n finally speaks and Ao’nung looks at her. “She swam off at the beginning. Let her be.”

Y/n watches curiously as Ao’nung calls to the creatures, clicking and whooping. He’s rude, for sure, and finds joy in making fun of her siblings. But a small part of her can’t deny the fact that he is beautiful.

“These are ilu.” He informs the children. “If you want to live here, you have to ride.”

“Hi,” Y/n smiles softly at an ilu and gently pets the top of it’s head.

“Your leg.” A voice startles her, and she turns to see Ao’nung. “What happened to it?”

She responds cautiously, “It was hurt.”

He deadpans, “Obviously. But how?”

“A gun.”

“A what?”

She sighs softly, “Like a bow and arrow, just worse. Far worse.”

He nods, stepping towards the ilu. He gently pets its neck, “Will you be able to ride an ilu?”

Y/n looks at the creature with a small smile, “I rode all the way here on my ikran. It’s not much different in that sense.”

He hums, “All right.” He glances behind him, at Tsireya and Lo’ak. Lo’ak is taking off on his ilu, holding on tightly. The two watch as Lo’ak is flown off of his ilu, and Ao’nung bursts into laughter. Y/n can’t help but laugh as well.

“Breathe in, skxawng.” Ao’nung instructs, gently hitting Y/n’s stomach.

She glares at him, her abs tensing, “I am breathing in, dipshit.”

“Calm your heartbeat.” He answers, his hand gently resting on her chest. It's soft and cool. “It’s too fast.”

Y/n takes a slow, deep breath, shutting her eyes, “I can’t help it.”

“Are you scared of me?” He grins.

She scoffs, peaking an eye open, “You don’t scare me.”

“Then why is your heart beating so fast?” If he had eyebrows, he’d be raising them at that moment.

She huffs and shrugs, “Because you’re kind of cute.” She stands, stalking over to the rest of the group. She takes a seat next to Kiri, glancing at Lo’ak and Tsireya with a small grin.

“Try to focus.” She encourages.

Lo’ak nods, “Okay.”

“Breathe in…” Neteyam and Rotxo grin at each other, snickering quietly.

Throughout the next few weeks, the Sully family quickly learn the way of the water, and how to adapt to their new surroundings. With the need of breathing every minute gone, the Sully kids are able to race on their ilu. It reminded them of home, racing on their ikrans. Their interactions with the sea have become deeper and resonate more. They sign the language with slight difficulty, but it’s understandable.

Y/n’s love for the ocean has grown, and her disdain for the future Olo’eyktan follows suit. He bullies her siblings whenever he’s around, and despite his face, and his body, and his voice- he’s a terrible person. His mere presence makes her shiver in annoyance. His sister, however, is becoming one of her favorite people. She’s kind and welcoming, allowing Y/n’s family to make mistakes and then fix them. Y/n doesn’t think she has a single bad bone in her body. The current Olo’eyktan, Tonowari, has taught Y/n how to fish. She wasn’t very good, but she was getting better as time went on. Tonowari and Tsireya are very alike, in Y/n’s opinion, like father like daughter. And finally, Ronal. It took a few days for the woman to even look her family's way, but one evening, while Y/n was searching for small shells to add to her father’s necklace, the woman showed her where to find the perfect ones. She’ll forever be grateful for it.

The waves crash softly against the shore as Y/n leans against a palm tree, doing the finishing touches on her father’s necklace. Kiri lay face down in the shallow water ahead of her, simply gazing at the sand and the small creatures within it. Y/n doesn’t notice the posse of boys walking up to her sister until she hears that voice.

“What is she doing?” Ao’nung sneers, and the boys laugh. Y/n looks up from her project, and frowns deeply. “She’s looking at sand.”

“Huh? What’d you say?” Kiri asks, lifting her head out of the water. Y/n stands, dusting the sand off her legs.

“Are you some kind of… freak?” Ao’nung asks bitterly, and Kiri sighs, averting her eyes and walking past him.

“No.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you’re not even real Na’vi. Look at these hands.” He takes her hand, and she rips it away. He grabs onto it again. “I mean, look at them!”

“Hey!” Lo’ak calls, walking over. “Back off, fishlips.”

“Oh, another four-fingered freak.”

“Oh, baby tail!” Another boy teases, grabbing onto Lo’ak’s tail.

“Leave us alone!” Kiri tries, but to no avail.

Y/n finally rushes over, pushing Ao’nung to the side. She points her finger at him. “You heard what she said. Leave them alone.”

“Awww, big sister com-” A boy tries, but Ao’nung pushes him back, silencing him.

“Back off.” Y/n pushes him back with her finger. “Now.” There’s a tense moment of silence, before Ao’nung lifts his hands in surrender. “Smart choice. And from now on, I need you to respect my sister.” A boy hisses, but once again Ao’nung stops him. She turns to her siblings. “Let’s go.”

The three begin to walk off as Ao’nung speaks up again, “Bah bye!” He teases, before loudly “whispering” to his friends. “Look at them, they’re all freaks. The whole family.” Lo’ak sighs deeply, before turning around.

“Lo’ak.” Y/n warns.

He holds his hand up, “I got this sis.” He walks up to Ao’nung, displaying his hand. “I know this hand is funny. Look, I’m a freak. An alien.” Ao’nung smirks. “But it can do something really cool. Watch. First, I ball it up real tight, like this. Okay? Then-” He cuts himself off by delivering a hard punch to Ao’nung’s cheek, followed by two more, until the taller boy falls onto the sand. “It’s called a punch, bitch. Don’t ever touch my sister again.”

Y/n sighs as the boys hiss at Lo’ak. Ao’nung pounces on him, and Lo’ak lands another punch before being pulled off by his tail. Y/n scrunches her face as a boy hits Lo’ak with his tail. The boys continue to wrestle, and eventually end up just pulling each other’s tails and ears. Kiri and Y/n laugh quietly to themselves as they yelp and moan.

“What was the one thing I asked? The one thing!” Jake scolds, Lo’ak stares at the ground in shame, and Y/n sighs.

“Stay out of trouble.” Lo’ak repeats quietly.

“Stay out of trouble- right!” “Look, it was my fault.” Y/n tries to intervene. She understands how difficult her father is on Lo’ak, and she’ll do anything she can to help ease the anger on the boy.

“I don’t think so. You gotta stop takin’ the heat for this knucklehead. I’ll speak to you later.”

“Look, dad, Ao’nung was picking on Kiri. He called her a freak.”

Jake sighs, “Go apologize to Ao’nung.”

“What?”

“He’s the chief's son, do you understand? I don’t care how you do it. Just go make peace. Just go.” Lo’ak leaves the tent, shaking his head. Jake looks back at Y/n. “You should’ve stopped him.”

Y/n sighs, “I didn’t know he was going to punch Ao’nung.”

“Have you met your brother?” Jake runs a hand over his face. “You’re the eldest. It’s your job to take care of your siblings. You need to start acting like it.”

“Dad- I can’t control them. They don’t listen to me-”

“Then try harder. This is a family, we all have roles. You need to start fulfilling yours.”

Y/n shakes her head, “Yeah, fine.” She walks past her father to leave.

“Y/n?” She turns to look at her father in question. “What’d the other guys look like?”

“Worse.”

Jake nods, “Good. You’re dismissed.”

She nods, leaving silently.

Y/n sits quietly with Neteyam, they quietly share memories from the forest and their clan. Y/n knew how much her brother missed their home. A presence interrupts them, and Y/n glares.

“What do you want, Ao’nung?” She stands, crossing her arms.

He looks down, not able to make eye contact. “It’s Lo’ak.”

“What did he do?” Neteyam asks.

“We led him out to hunt… beyond the reef. And we left him. It was supposed to be a joke- but he hasn’t come back.”

Y/n takes a moment to take in what he just confessed, before anger crosses her face. “Are you fucking serious? What is wrong with you?”

“I’m… sorry.” He whispers.

Neteyam gently pushes past Y/n and roughly grabs onto Ao’nung’s arm, dragging him towards their father and Kiri. Jake looks back questioningly, his brow raised.

“What is it?”

Neteyam glares at Ao’nung, “Go on. Tell him what you just told us.”

Y/n stands next to Tsireya as a villager brings Lo’ak onto a small dock. The moment Lo’ak sees Ao’nung, he’s ready to pounce on him, but Jake intervenes quickly, stepping in front of his son.

“Hey, hey. Let’s have a look at you, okay?” He quickly looks over Lo’ak. “He’s fine. He’s fine. Just a few scratches.”

“Lo’ak.” Neytiri gasps softly, jumping down onto the dock. Once she realizes he is not injured, she sneers. “I pray for the strength that I will not pluck the eyeballs out of my youngest son!” She snarls, hissing.

“No.” Tonowari announces. “My son knows better than to take him outside the reef.” He forces Ao’nung to kneel. “The blame is his.”

“Okay, let’s go.” Jake says, motioning for his son to follow.

“No.” Lo’ak speaks up, and Y/n looks at him weirdly. “This is not Ao’nung’s fault. This was my idea. Ao’nung tried to talk me out of it. Really. I’m sorry.”

“Come on.” Jake urges and Y/n joins the group.

As they walk away, Lo’ak tries to defend himself. “Dad, you told me to make friends with these kids. I was only trying to-”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Dad-”

“You brought shame to this family.”

“Dad.” Y/n intervenes, but her dad just gives her a warning look.

Lo’ak looks defeated, “Can I go now?”

“You cause more trouble, I jerk a knot in your tail.” Jake threatens, and the boy nods. “You read me?”

“Yes, sir. Lima Charlie.”

Jake studies him for a moment, “Go on.”

Neytiri looks at Y/n and Neteyam, “Where were you?”

Jake glances at them, “Yeah, what happened to “keeping an eye on your brother”?” He looks at Y/n. “Taking care of your siblings, pulling your weight. Sound familiar?”

“Sorry, sir.” Neteyam responds, but Y/n scoffs softly.

“Seriously? I was too busy being scolded for not parenting my siblings to stop him.” Y/n regrets the words the second they leave her mouth.

“What did you say, girl?” Jake bears his teeth, angrily looking at her.

“Doesn’t matter.” She turns to walk away.

“Don’t you walk away from me. I am tired of your disrespect, Y/n.” Jake grabs her shoulder, turning her back to face him. “Everyday it’s something new with you. You are the oldest, you need to star-”

“Start acting like it, yeah, I know.” She scoffs, her eyes filling with frustrated tears. She’s not good at confrontation. “I’m the eldest sibling- but I’m not even your daughter! And you aren’t my father.” Jake’s eyes flash with hurt, and he bites his tongue. “I’m tired of you suffocating me.” Her eyes glisten in the dim lighting.. “I only try to be perfect for you, but what’s even the point? All I do is disappoint you.”

“Y/n…” Neytiri tries, but Y/n shakes her head.

“Sometimes I wish it was you that was dead, instead of my real father.” She knows she didn't mean that. But she turns and walks off like she did anyway. She said what she knew would hurt him, because she wanted him to see the way he hurts her.

She wipes her eyes as she leaves, her throat closing up as she tries to hold in her sobs. The closer she gets to breaking, the faster she moves away from her family, her father. It’s only when she makes it to a secluded spot on the beach does she finally allow herself to quietly cry. She buries her head in her knees, shaking as the gentle waves kissed her feet.

She doesn’t hear the quiet footsteps behind her, hesitating to comfort her. Ao’nung decides to sit next to her either way, looking out over the horizon. He puts his hand on her knee, and she looks up at him, immediately wiping her eyes.

“What do you want?” She asks quietly, her voice cracking quietly. She doesn’t have the energy to hate him.

He swallows thickly, thinking carefully on what to say. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to speak to but… I’m here.” He murmurs softly, his eyes soft. “You can talk to me, or not, but… I am here.”

Y/n stares at him for a moment, dumbfounded, before nodding. “Thank you.” She whispers, allowing herself tonight to accept his comfort. She’ll go back to hating him tomorrow. Or so she hopes.

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