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bananayuyu · 14 days ago

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Tell Me No {1}

Pairing: professor!Yunho x f reader

Genre: smut, dark academia vibes

Word count: 6.3k

Summary: You'd always been a picture perfect college student. So when Professor Jeong gives you a grade that threatens your flawless track-record, you'll do just about anything to raise it.

Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap not specified but it's obviously there, reader wants him bad but is kinda in denial, dry humping, heavy petting, lots of praise

A/n: Professor Yunho always hits, I've seen so many fics on here that I've loved but I just had to make my own. I hope y'all enjoy <3 (I'm working on a part 2 and part 3 for this now, lmk if you want to be tagged!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist | Read it on ao3

Professor Jeong was remarkably smart, remarkably tall, and remarkably well-liked. There wasn't a thing he could do, it seemed, to upset anyone. His third year as faculty, he was already surpassing all expectations the Dean and Vice President had set. It was a revelation: all his students absolutely adored him, every single one. All, except for you.

It was late fall, and the weather was starting to turn. Leaves were falling in clouds of red and yellow, and the air was crisp in the mornings. The entire week the sky was overcast, not a ray of sunshine to remind you of the warm season just past. It felt gloomy, calm, and focused on campus, and it should have been the perfect start to your favorite time of year.

It should have been. But as you sat in your Contemporary Literature class and read over the marks on your most recent paper, you felt nothing but rage.

63%. That's what he'd given you. That, and a slew of notes in red ink along every margin, telling you just how poorly you'd screwed this whole thing up. You didn't much care for contemporary books, that was the worst part; this was a class you were required to take as a part of your literature degree, and one you'd dreaded taking, no matter how many raving reviews you'd heard about the professor. It was an added slap in the face that he was so damn harsh with grading, when you really couldn't give a fuck about the books you'd been assigned to read.

It only took a week of class before you understood. His good looks, his sense of humor, his easy and flirtatious nature, those were the things that made every student love him. Class itself was a slog, but you'd been expecting that at least, and made it through your first two papers with decent grades. Only three papers and a final exam were graded in his class, and you panicked every time you handed one in, not knowing if you'd be able to pass with at least a 70% and get your much needed credits. But so far it had been fine; you'd never needed to ask him much, never seen a reason to visit office hours. You had no desire to talk to this good-looking professor, even if your mind wandered in his class. It was all too easy to picture him in all his naked glory, but a part of you knew your dreams must be too good to be true, and you'd hate to have the illusion shattered.

It wasn't out of character for you to crush on a teacher. And it wasn't that you hated him. But what good was a hot professor if he was going to fuck up all of your plans?

"Hey, did he screw you too?" a voice behind you asks. You didn't bother turning around, knowing the aggravating man it had come from and exactly the conversation he was hoping for.

"Yes, obviously," you answer. Professor Jeong's a fucking asshole, you add to yourself. Dad's gonna fucking kill me.

Here on Daddy's money, you were that girl. And though it was an obvious perk, it came with one severe expectation. You would be done in four years, and never get below a C. There would be no making up credits, no re-dos. Summer was meant to be spent interning, not making up for stupid mistakes during the year. Your dad's words ring clearly through your mind as you sigh into your desk.

"Wanna go get coffee and bitch about prof for an hour?"

"No, Marcus, I have shit to do," you respond.

"One day you won't be such a bitch to me," he replies, before slinging his backpack over one shoulder and shoving his long hair out of his face. "I'm gonna go to his office hours tomorrow and give him a piece of my mind," he says as he walks past you.

"Good luck with that," you joke, staring down at the floor.

You'd been able to wear your favorite boots today, and your legs covered in black tights were a sight for sore eyes. But none of it could be enjoyed, these little beauties of life that usually brought you peace. The potential of failing this stupid class was looming, and now more than ever you were thankful for the weather, for sunny days always made your bad moods even worse, making you feel almost guilty for your negativity.

"Come to my office hours tomorrow, I have to head home now," you hear Professor Jeong tell a clearly panicked classmate, who sighs with defeat and slumps away. You look up, taking in the small room, a class with only thirty desks, dark and windowless, with bookshelves lining the back wall behind a large mahogany table. The few lamps at the front illuminated the tired and frustrated bodies of your peers as they exit to the front corner, and there is no part of you that wants to join that sad parade. There had to be a way out of this, a way to avoid your worst nightmare. There was no way you'd let your hard work of the last two years go to waste, all to be replaced with beratement from your Dad and a forced position in his company.

You'd never been overcome like this, or so determined. Something in the red ink on your perfectly printed paper had switched a flip. Paper in hand, you sling your book bag over your shoulder and storm to the front of the classroom. The last student had just slipped out, and your professor was turning off the lamp high on the right-most bookshelf, his back to you.

"I need to talk to you," you say. The force in your voice shocks you, and you take a deep breath to recover.

"My office hours are tomorrow, you can co-"

"No, I need to talk to you now."

He turns to you, peering over his shoulder before his chest has time to face you too. Instantly his gaze is piercing, a deepness in his brown eyes that you'd never noticed before. His suit is perfect and sharp and intimidating, and your knees feel wobbly as your guts roll. Who were you to be demanding such a thing from him? You had no idea where it had come from, other than the primal fear of a life lived under your Dad's severe control. Your degree was your chance to escape, and you'd stop at nothing to secure your freedom.

"I have to head home now, I can't talk to you." His voice is stern but soft, and feels like a warm breeze blowing past your cheeks and neck. A shudder runs through you, one you try your best to hide.

"Just five minutes, I'll walk with you out of the building," you reply. He lets out a frustrated sigh through his nose, crossing his arms and staring at you deeply. With a subtle shake of his head he straightens up again, grabbing his own bag off his chair and zipping it closed, before slipping it over his head. He pushes in the chair, and moves to the other lamp, looking back to you once more before clicking it off. For a brief moment the room is blanketed in complete darkness, and all you can hear is the soft rustle of trees outside blowing in the wind.

He opens the door, holding it until you exit, and locks it swiftly behind you.

"I was wondering when you'd finally come talk to me," he says, walking the opposite direction you expect, towards the back of the building. His long strides are hard to keep up with, and you balk at what to say now. There was something eery about his words, but something too that told you to keep going. This may just work, if you were willing to push through your nerves.

"My grades on my last two papers were reasonable, I didn't see any reason to come and argue with you about thos-"

"No, what I mean is, you obviously hate my class," he cuts you off.

"I- I don't, sir, I promise-"

"You don't need to lie to save my ego, I can easily tell when a student doesn't like the work I assign for them," he sighs softly.

"I just don't care much for contemporary books, I'm much more interested in historical literature. And literature written by women tends to interest me more, too," you reply. You'd reached the end of the hallway, the back double doors much shabbier than the front, but still adorned with wood carvings and leaf-shaped handles. Professor Jeong pushes the left door open with ease, holding it in silence until you exit again, rejoining you in your decent of the steps.

"Yes, I have heard this complaint a time or two, and I saw this coming from you, I know your type," he replies cooly, walking fast and still making no eye contact.

"I'm not any type of person, I don't know what the hell you're talking about," you snap, covering your mouth seconds later in regret.

"No, please, lay it all out, I am all ears. It's only about two minutes to the train station, so you'd better make use of it."

"You're seriously going to accuse me of being some "type" of student who complains about how all the books we read are by men, when your main critique of my last paper was that the perspective I took was predictable and the same as so many students before, and that I really should look outside of the box and be more creative with my thinking? When you assign the most boring, predictable, inside the box books known to man? What the hell do you expect, me to invent some deeper meaning to this whiny basic crap I'm reading?"

The words tumble out of you with force, another student you passed looking bewildered, ducking their head down and walking into the grass to avoid you. Adrenaline wracks through you, your heart pounding hard enough you could feel it in your head. You weren't sure what you were thinking, launching into such a personal attack of the books he'd assigned. But once he said to lay it all out, your mind couldn't think to do anything else. You try to walk in a straight line beside him, try to keep up with his strides without completely losing your breath. A distant strike of lightning is followed many seconds later by the low rumble of thunder, and your head snaps up in your anxious state, your whole body on high alert. Seconds stretch by, as the air feels suddenly colder and your sweater far too thin. You were waiting for his professional, academic response, knowing almost surely humiliation was about to greet you. But when you finally look up, his lips are turned up in a smirk. Your eyes go wide, wondering if he was laughing, if he found your statement so pathetic and stupid that all it did was make him chuckle.

"You're funny," he deadpans, looking up to the cloudy sky. "And no, I'm not smiling, not at all." His smirk grows wider, almost to a full smile, before he turns from you and steels his face, his expression back to his typical stoicism as his eyes meet yours.

"You think your paper deserves a second look?" he asks, as you cross the bike path and walk through the strip of pine trees, before starting down the stairs to the train station.

"Absolutely, sir, I just want a second chance, maybe I can explain to you further what I meant in certain sections, help you understand- I- I'll rewrite sections if you'd like, anything for a better grade-"

You are cut off by the man in the ticket booth.

"Heading home, Mr. Jeong?" the man calls jovially, waving a large hand in his direction, a pale yellow ticket between his fingers.

"I'll take two today Mr. Choi, thank you," he replies, smoothly walking up to the booth and slipping the man two one-dollar bills.

"Have a nice ride, enjoy your evening!" the man calls as you both walk towards the platform, your boots scuffing on a crack in the stone tiles, eyes too focused on the tall broad back in front of you to notice the ground.

Already a train was approaching, and by the look of your professor, it was obvious this was his. You aren't sure why you're still following; you pull up for a second, eyes wide as you take in the scene around you. The station ss teeming with people, many students and several faces you think you vaguely recognize, but amidst it all his head of black hair ss visible, so much taller than anyone else around. He walks forward a few steps before looking behind him, noticing your absence and squinting hard, trying to find you. The train was now pulling up, and his eyes were flicking between it and the direction he'd lost you, looking the least bit frantic, if that was even possible for him. As soon as the train stops people launch towards the doors, handing the ticket-man their yellow slips and hurriedly finding the seats they want.

When the crowd thins enough and he can see you again, Professor Jeong makes his way to you quickly.

"Whatever you do, don't you dare get on this train car with me," he utters, slipping one of the tickets into your hand and closing it in his. "Don't get off at Fortsmith station, and don't wait for me by the red phone booth outside."

As he walks towards the door his head turns to meet your gaze one last time, and something deep and mischievous glints in his eyes. As he enters the car, ducking low to fit through the small door, you run up behind him, handing the man your ticket too and slipping inside. A moment later the ticket-man jumps in too, sliding closed the door and locking it, sitting in his designated chair.

"How many stops to Fortsmith station?" you ask him, peering over your shoulder at the nearly packed car, only one empty seat next to a man that looked leeringly at you, in a way that made your skin crawl.

"12 stops, ma'am," the man answers, his accent thick.

"How- how many minutes is that, approximately?"

"About 40 minutes, ma'am."

You sigh, stepping out of his way. "Thank you," you add, nodding to him slightly, before turning back around to find a place to stand. When you turn, though, a different seat is empty, one you could swear had been filled by your professor just moments ago.

When you look to the right, you find him sitting by the leering old man and watching you intently. And quickly you slip yourself into that now empty seat, breathing a sigh of relief for your poor heels.

The ride was smoother than you had expected, but the stops were arduous, and each time as people filed on and off, you felt your nerves growing and shaking you. This seemed so strange, that your professor was letting you follow him, giving you the ticket and directions so you wouldn't get lost. Had your little outburst really piqued his interest? Was he only winding you up to shit on you later, in the privacy of his own home, when it was only you two? Suddenly, you realize you know nothing about this man. You aren't even sure if he lives alone, if he has a family, if anything about this little excursion iss a good idea, or if you're walking right into the den of a lion. A deep shudder runs through you when the announcement for 'Fortsmith' comes through the speakers. Only another minute, and you'll be wobbling your way out of here. You'll be in a completely foreign part of the city, not one person knowing where you were.

The station is much smaller, not underground like the University stop, the train only at a full stop for maybe thirty seconds before whisking itself off again. Only one other person steps off with you two; the woman makes quickly for the north exit of the station and disappears into the pouring rain, the cool outside air hitting you and making your body go rigid.

With a quick glance around, you spot the phone booth. It was just to the left of the south exit, visible through the glass panels of the door. As Professor Jeong exits he opens his umbrella, standing patiently by the red booth as you made your way in his direction, your body shaking. Once you exit he begins walking beside you, holding you close under the small radius of his umbrella, his large hand on your back feeling like it was searing right into your skin.

Its a short and quiet walk to the quaint street he lives on, large trees covering the sides of the small boulevard and ivy covering the stone walls of most of the houses. Each was small, only a few with a second floor, including his; it was exactly the type of place you'd expect him to live, the heavy front door creaking as he pulls it open and walks in ahead of you, quickly closing his umbrella and setting it down, and closing the door with a gentle thud once you enter.

A draft hits your wet legs and causes you to shiver again, and you wrap your arms tightly around yourself. Inside it is dim and hazy, and soon he was pulling out a set of matches and lighting a candle on his mantle, the living room coming into view once the warm light started flickering.

"This is my office, wait in here," he says, opening a door just down the hall. When you walk in there is only the soft light of the early evening to guide you, the floor so hard to see that you reach out your hands and shuffle slowly. Once his desk comes into view you spot the ornate lamp just behind it, and carefully reach around to click it on, the room suddenly awash in a gentle pinkness.

Not unlike his classroom, the walls are covered with stacked bookshelves, but in here it was every inch, not a single bit of free space available. You walk slowly to the closest shelf, your eyes scanning over the spines. Shock rips through you as you see the authors: Dickinson, Austen, Bronte, so many of the historical women you adore. Above that shelf is a collection of more contemporary works: Cline, Hooks, Mock, your eyes just about bug out at seeing the names, breath hitching. Here was a stunning collection of so many of your favorite authors, an entire giant bookcase dedicated to the work of women, and women alone.

"You found my favorite shelf, I see." His voice is low and buttery and doesn't shock you, only makes you feel like melting into the floor. But you can't help turning suddenly and clinging to yourself, the room still feeling chilly. "You aren't in trouble, why are you looking at me like that?"

"Why did you bring me here?" you shoot back, taking in a quick breath.

"Why did you come when I told you not to?" he replies, walking close and handing you a cup of steaming tea, the notes of lavender and honey hitting your nose.

"You- you obviously wanted me to come, you told me exactly where to get off-"

You cut yourself off at the sight of him smirking again, and shake your head, the shock of the situation finally hitting you.

"I shouldn't be here, should I?" you suddenly panic, shoving the tea back in his direction, making for your bag on the floor. But as you crouch and grab it your hands feel like stone, not willing to move an inch. You don't want to leave, not at all, as much as some part of you is telling you to stop this and head back to campus, now. You stand back up quickly, feeling awkward as you smooth down the bottom of your oversized sweater, turning to him again.

"Is this wrong?" he asks, gesturing between you with the mug of tea.

"I- I don't know," you sigh.

"I made you tea because you looked cold, are you sure you don't want it?"

You stare longingly at it, his hand easily wrapping around the entire thing. With a hard swallow you push yourself to take a step, grabbing the tea from him and finally taking a sip, your chest instantly feeling warmer.

"Why did you let me follow you?" you ask, turning around and sitting yourself on the smooth top of his desk , crossing your legs. His legs cross too as he leans back against the shelf behind him, a longer piece of his black hair falling in front of his eyes.

"I've been hoping to get a chance to chat with you, ever since I read your first paper."

"So even though you could tell I hated your readings, even though I'm that type of student you seem to have such great distaste for, you still wanted to talk with me?" you ask.

"I kept hoping you'd come to office hours, but you never did," he sighs. "You might hate my class, but you're obviously passionate about literature. You'd be surprised how rare that is, amongst all my English students."

"You've only had a few like me, then?" you ask.

"I've never had any student like you."

Silence hangs in the air, and you sip at your tea to fill it, savoring the way your body is relaxing. You stare at him, trying to read it all. Why the hell would he say something like that to you? Alone in his house, no indication of another soul residing here, you feel oddly comfortable. It had never crossed your mind that you could possibly end up in a situation like this.

"You're determined to get at least a C, aren't you?" he asks.

"I have to," you reply. "I can't- I just have to."

"For your scholarship?"

"No- well, sort of, in a way," you sigh, thinking of your Dad. "It's a long story, but I have to."

"Let me give you some advice then. Just because you don't much care for an assignment, don't throw in the towel and do the bare minimum. Your other work is too good, it makes it obvious when you've barely spent any time on something."

You stop short, tea clasped tightly in your hands, your eyes wide.

"Do you write, any fiction or poetry?" he asks.

"Yes."

"Good, you have an immense talent for writing, you must nurture it."

It was the last thing you were expecting, and the words send shivers of warmth through your limbs, your mouth hanging slightly agape.

"God, do you have any idea how remarkable you are?" he asks, his head suddenly shaking, his arms crossing.

"What do you mean?" You try to keep your composure, but his last words feel like a metaphorical breaking of a boundary, and suddenly your cunt aches and your feet feel tingly. Were you really that easy to break? Liking praise this much was something you'd always felt shame about; your cheeks redden as your heart rate slowly picks up, and you are sure your flush is obvious, even in the faintly pink light of the room.

"You're just- you're remarkable, there's no other way to put it. Like I said, I've never had a student like you," he says.

"Then why torture me with such a bad grade?" you ask, taking another sip.

"I'm not torturing you, it was deserved," he replies. "You wrote that whole paper the night before it was due, didn't you?"

You turn your eyes away in lieu of responding, not wanting to admit that he was absolutely right.

"I know everyone says I'm a harsh grader, but what about next year? You'll have two semesters with either Haas or Park, and both of them are stricter than I am, both expect near perfection. I'm preparing you as best as I can for next year, so your whole degree doesn't blow up in your face at the final hurdle."

"You really care that much?" you fake pout, chuckling a bit and biting your lip.

"Yes, yes I do. You're too smart to not make it out of that University with a degree." His voice is genuine, not an ounce of sarcasm present. Something about how sure and even it is adds to the heat in your low guts, and you squirm slightly, trying to relieve the pressure building between your legs.

"Come here," you say, setting down your mug and holding out your hands in front of you.

"What?" he asks as he pushes off the bookshelf, uncrossing his arms as he starts walking. In only three steps he's just inches away, towering over you as you spread your legs slightly. You're hit with his smell, something musky and rich that you can't name, and all it does is add to the heat inside you, sweat beginning to form underneath your sweater.

"Will you read my stories and poems, if I show them to you?" you ask, tugging on the lapels of his suit jacket, your eyes locked together.

"I won't hold back in my reactions," he says, sighing deeply to try and keep the growing firmness in his pants at bay. Being this close to you was not something he'd planned for, and his head spins as your soft eyes look up so longingly, his own guts doing somersaults at the precious sight.

"I wouldn't want you to," you say, smiling, unbuttoning his jacket and exposing his white button down, making work of the buttons there too, from top to bottom.

"Hey, hey, wait a minute," he chides from above, but he doesn't move an inch, doesn't do a thing to prevent your movements. You notice quickly he isn't wearing an under shirt, met with the creaminess of his skin as you expose his chest, working slowly down to the lowest buttons. You pull his shirt free from where it was tucked in his pants, loosening his belt to help you, before pulling the sides of the shirt wide and finally revealing his naked torso.

Now you understood. He was a nightmare, but in all the ways you least expected. He was better than your dreams, hotter than you could imagine; the flat plane of his chest was broad, and his tummy was the perfect mixture of muscle and softness, a small dark line of hair snaking down from his belly button and into his pants. And his pants, when you finally look down, you see it; his bulge is straining against the fabric, long and hard and thick, and immediately you start salivating, running your tongue along your bottom lip to collect yourself.

"Good god," he groans from above, his pupils blown, losing the fight to not be affected by you. Your small, soft hands running over his torso feel heaven-sent, and in seconds he's rock hard, shamelessly staring down the low cut of your sweater, letting himself look at you the way he's been wanting to for months.

"This- this is what you want?" he asks, breathless, running a thumb down the side of your cheek, turning your head up further to meet his gaze head-on.

"You- you just kept saying such nice things, and it made me feel all weird right here." You grab his hand and pull it towards your crotch, the warmth and wetness immediately evident even with your tights in the way.

"Fuck," he groans, tipping his head back and sighing. Though he knew it was already risky bringing you here, lines were now being crossed that were objectively wrong. He tries to pull his hand away from your core, but he can't, and when he looks down at you again, your eyes are wide with want and need, conflict screwing all of his thoughts into a tight knot.

But before he can stop himself, his open lips meet yours. The kiss is immediately deep, all the tension and heat you'd just created washing through you both. He starts applying some pressure with his hand, rubbing his fingers up and down against the warmth of your cunt, and you moan into his mouth, suddenly breaking the kiss when he hits your sensitive spot, your mouth falling open. With no support behind you, you grab onto his arms, pulling him closer as you move to kiss him again, his right hand wrapping around your back to hold you up.

His lips are soft and sweet in yours, and you can't help biting at the plumpness of his lower lip, making a quick breath escape his mouth before he dives in harder, the hand on your back moving up to your nape as he pulls your face impossibly closer. You reach your hands out to feel over the bareness of his torso again; his skin feels hot and smooth, his abdominal muscles clenching as he leans into you more and takes all the effort of steadying you both. Balanced on the edge of his desk you feel shaky, so you reach around his hips and pull them closer, forcing him to remove his hand as your cores meet in sudden ecstasy, the hardness of him feeling all too delicious against your soaked cunt.

Immediately you're grinding against him, savoring every bit of pleasure you can get, while his wide torso cages you in and his soft lips move to your cheek, then your neck, trailing down until he's biting at the soft skin above your collar bone. The choked moan that leaves you sounds almost like a cry of pain, but it was really just the shock, the unexpected pleasure you were getting from every little movement of his.

He pulls his mouth away, suddenly nervous he's taken a wrong step, gone too far. His hair falls in his face as he watches you shamelessly grind against him, your eyes still screwed shut in ecstasy, stopping at nothing to get all of the pleasure you can from it. It takes you a few moments to register the absence of his lips, and when you do you look up at him through hooded eyes, wondering why he pulled back.

"What do you want?" he asks, working hard to rip his eyes away from the sight of you grinding on him.

"Just wanna be good for you," you say breathlessly, swallowing a moan. "Wanna- wanna make you feel good."

"You are making me feel good, angel, I'm so fucking hard," he sighs, looking down again and starting to rock his hips slightly, in time with yours. The added pressure and friction send jolts of pleasure through you, and suddenly your head feels a bit fuzzy, your hands and feet tingling with delight. "You gotta tell me to stop, I can't- this, fuck, we shouldn't be..."

"Please don't stop," you cry, holding onto him for dear life, focused entirely on the feeling of him against you, his strong arms in your hands, his hot breath on your face, his hardness giving you more pleasure than you could ever dream of. "I'll rewrite my entire paper, I'll do anything, just please, don't stop."

"You don't have to promise me that right now," he says, holding you tight against him. "You're too good, let yourself have this."

With his permission, you let go completely, all thoughts leaving you as the pleasure becomes overwhelming, your spasming cunt sending shockwaves of pleasure up through your entire core. His lips are on yours again, and he kisses you deeply, savoring every taste he can find, all but devouring you as he keeps up with your pace, rocking his straining cock against you just how you need it. You feel fully enveloped by him, by his smell and his words, by the feelings of complete safety and desire that he's lighted within you. You never expected this conversation with him to go so well, to head in this direction. For the first time in your life a teacher saw what you hoped they would in your writing, and his admission of his admiration for you left you wanting every bit of praise and pleasure he could give.

Finally, you feel it building deep, a volcano about to explode, your core tightening and threatening to snap. The feeling is searingly hot and delicious, your legs starting to shake, his hands moving to hold onto your thighs as you desperately shake and hump against him, chasing your orgasm to completion. You rip your mouth from his to scream, all the glee and nerves of your evening coming to a head, your body going rigid as it rips through you, your climax so intense and long lasting that you can't quite believe it's real.

"Good girl, let yourself cum," he whispers in your ear, helping you through it. His cock is achingly hard in his pants, but the feeling of you coming in his arms takes all his attention, the most beautiful sight he's ever seen. It's hard to tell when it ends, your legs still so shaky, but eventually your rubbing ceases, and he stops his thrusting too, just holding you in place as you pant and center yourself, adrenaline and happiness coursing through you.

"You okay?" he asks.

"More than okay," you sigh, slumping into him, making you both laugh. It's light, airy, the sound an absolute joy to your ears. You look up, face flushed and cheeks high in a smile, and he leans down to kiss you, a soft and patient kiss that makes butterflies dance in your stomach.

"I didn't mean for that to escalate like that," he says, sighing.

"I did," you say, and it makes him laugh harder, his high cheeks and beautiful smile greeting you. You've never seen him look so sweet, so happy; your stomach suddenly clenches with a feeling of utter admiration, and it's so deep that tears spring in the corners of your eyes. You blink them away, not wanting to cry in front of him, but you can't help the look on your face. His smile is gorgeous, and internally you're melting at just how perfect he is.

You stay locked together for a long time, the minutes passing by as you both breath deeply, more kisses planted on your forehead and cheeks that make you giggle and squirm. Eventually you come down, your legs finally not shaking, your body coming back to the temperature of the room. The cool air is making you sleepy, and you yawn as you pull away from him, gently moving him back so you can stand and stretch your legs, gathering yourself.

It's silent, slightly awkward, but nothing in you feels scared. Though your legs are back to freezing, you feel a warmth in your chest and stomach that won't leave, and when you look up to him, his face is soft and still and utterly lovely.

"I really didn't mean for that to happen," he says, clearing his throat and finally breaking the silence.

"It's okay, seriously, I- I wanted it to," you sigh, holding his gaze.

"I really think you're amazing, it's not just that you're beautiful, I- I want you to go places, I want all of your dreams to come true. With writing, and everything else too," he says, running a hand through his hair.

"I know," you respond, nodding and smiling. "I know."

It's all you can think to say, when so much is running through your head. Now that your heart rate is more normal you can actually think straight, and though you don't feel scared, there is some level of uncertainty dancing in the back of your mind. Where would this lead? And what could possibly come of it? Your own hormones and emotions had led the way earlier, and now you weren't so sure it had been the best choice. But you also couldn't fault yourself for doing it, because you knew that if given the chance, you'd absolutely do it again, as many times as he'd be willing to. Class now might be a nightmare, your active imagination supported by this memory. But that didn't sound all bad, either, frankly. It might be fun to make eyes at him and watch him stutter, to see just how much you could affect him in front of all your peers.

"Are you wanting to head home now?" he asked.

"I probably should, I have a lot of homework to do. And I need to get some dinner."

Twenty minutes later, the delivery arrives, and you sit in his living room sipping at your favorite soup, a casual conversation about your other classes filling the air. It had always bugged you when people asked about school, but for some reason with him, you felt giddy to brag, excited to share every grade and project you could. You felt seen, felt actually supported. It struck you over and over how strange it was to be feeling this way with him, of all people.

"Rewrite that paper, you have a week," he says as you stand in his open door, the streets and lawn drenched from the rain, but the sky now clear.

"Rewrite the whole thing?"

"I expect it to be up to the standard of your other two papers."

With all of the other work you had, it should have been frustratingly hard to finish it. But there was something about thinking of his face as you worked, of his hands, of his chest and his abs and his cock....

You finished the paper in record time, turning it in only four days later. And the next day in class it was lying on your desk when you entered, bright red marks along the front again.

91%.

You looked up at him, and though it was subtle, there was no question there was a glint in his eye as he winked.

next part ->

#ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #yunho smut #yunho x reader #ateez yunho #ateez #jeong yunho #Jeong Yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho x y/n #yunho x y/n #yunho fanfic #yunho fic

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lovelettersfromluna · 11 days ago

Text

Love Me Not

summary: “Oh, it’s hard to leave you when I get you everywhere”

an: Hi 😳. I know okay…I KNOW!!! It’s here, and it’s done, and Jesus Christ I seriously hope you like it. This series was soooo much fun but boy am I glad it’s finished. I have been sitting on this one for way too long, it’s about time it’s given to you all. You waited so patiently, and for that i am forever grateful. Enjoy darlings 🤍🤍🤍

warnings: MDNI!! 18+ fic!!, smut!, angst!, sub!Ellie bc she’s a fucking mess for this girl poor thing. Mentions of alcohol, tribbing, oral (Ellie!receiving), edging, Ellie is super duper soft in this one. Pls lmk if I missed anything!!!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Ellie could count on her hands the amount of times she’d been hung up over a girl.

There was that one time when she was really young. There was a girl in her class with the most mesmerizing hair, curls that bounced like coils every time she moved. Ellie was like 6 and had no idea how to navigate the puppy love crush she had on her classmate, so never truly said anything. That one always really sticks, since it was her first real crush and not some cartoon character.

Then there was another girl in her seventh grade science class. Ellie sat right behind her, and always got a whiff of her fruity smelling body spray. Ellie’s sure if she smelled it today she’d be transported to a time of puberty and skinny jeans. One day the girl turned around and asked Ellie for a pencil and she completely froze. Body spray girl stared at Ellie like she had three heads, confused as to why she’d suddenly turned into a statue with not even a shake of the head to her pencil request.

These awkward, unrequited crushes fizzled out once Ellie got the high school. She’d found herself in a way, straightened it her posture so she didn’t walk with a slouch, ditch her god awful permanent pony tail for a choppy bob, revamped her wardrobe, did all the things she had to do to feel comfortable in her own skin rather than trying to wear one she didn’t fit in.

In the process of all this, the girls at school found her too.

She was almost overwhelmed with the attention she started getting during her freshman year. Imagine her, poor thing practically shaking in her boots while the girls flocked her like moths to a flame in the girls bathroom while they changed for gym class, practically shoving their phones into Ellie’s chest to exchange phone numbers and social media tags.

The moment Ellie accepted it and actually decided to speak to these girls, she learned that she was in fact a natural born flirt. It had always been there, she’d just been too chicken shit to apply herself.

Your brother was there during all of this too, following along as they both left you in the dust, welcoming the attention they bother gained from their transformations over the summertime. It was like overnight, the dynamic duo suddenly ruled the school and had all the girls at their feet.

So yeah, it was all of two times and when it did happen, it was because she was still terrified of the way girls made her feel.

But god….none of that came close to what you were doing to her now.

She was an adult now, an adult who wasn’t interested in a relationship right now. It wasn’t like she was a slut or anything, she simply liked her freedom. She liked hanging out with her friends, she liked being able to go where she wanted without feeling obligated to tell a girl where she was or what she was doing. She didn’t want anyone breathing down her back every waking minute of her life.

So if that was true? Why the hell were you the only thing on her mind.

Sure…you’ve always been cute. You were always around, trailing behind Ellie and your brother, trying your best to keep up while simultaneously annoying the hell out of them to include you in whatever they were getting into that day. You were the textbook little sister, a brother and his best friends worst nightmare.

It got even worse when you started to get older.

You stopped trying to tag along, finding your own friends to occupy your time during weekends and summer break. You no longer trailed behind them all day, opting to ditch them for your own friends instead. In this time, you were getting over your own awkward phase. Finding yourself and what made you feel the most comfortable in your skin.

It was hard to ignore you. Ellie was only human after all, and a pretty girl was a pretty girl, which you were (very pretty might Ellie add). Ellie wasn’t the strongest soldier, so seeing you prance around your house in your cute little overalls and dresses was one of her hardest battles. And it wasn’t like Derek ever explicitly told her to back off of his little sister. Sure, Derek was protective, but you were your own person. If you and Ellie hit it off, then who was he to get in the way of that?

But that wasn’t even it. Derek didn’t have the slightest inkling that there were any feelings between you and Ellie, he had no room to think about that because of how much Ellie disliked you, or at least how much she seemed to dislike you.

That was all Ellie. She’d always brushed you off, even when you were little. That was mainly because no one ever really wants the annoying kid sister to bother them, however it went beyond that once you all got older. Ellie wasn’t annoyed, or uninterested in whatever it was that you had to say, she was downright cruel. Bitter and mean was an understatement, and she could see the way each and every mean word she shot your way only further cemented the perception that there would never be a world where you and her could survive.

Because she saw it. She saw it in the way your eyes would linger on her, or the way you’d smile brightly whenever you walked in with a fresh baked batch of cookies or whatever the hell it was you were baking. Just because you’d found a life of your own, it didn’t mean you stopped trying to wiggle your way into Ellie and your brothers festivities from time to time.

Ellie knew that you were trouble, and she wasn’t going to let you drag her down a path she knew she’d regret.

You were too sweet, too fucking kind. Ellie knew that if she indulge in you for even a second, you’d want something more than what she could give. She could see it in your eyes, even though you did little to give it away. Ellie could see through it all, and risking your feelings and the relationship with her best friend was something she didn’t want to even begin thinking of doing. Being a total bitch to you was the only answer that made sense to Ellie.

Never did a million years did Ellie think that during a routine summer trip back home, you’d come in and fuck all of that up for her.

Because now you’re on her mind all the time. Ellie dreams about you, she falls asleep thinking about you, she wakes up thinking about you, there really isn’t a time during the day that she isn’t thinking of you. It’s suffocating, and it drives her fucking crazy because all she can think about is when she can have you again, what plan she could orchestrate that will grant her the blessing that is you. She’d fly to the moon and back without a spacesuit on if it meant she could have you without the complications that came with it all.

You linger in the back of her mind, the smell of your skin wafting into her nostrils during random points in the day, times where you aren’t even near her. The feeling of your lips on hers is cemented into her brain, making her weak in the knees every time her eyes flutter shut and she’s able to make out the feeling of your sweet mouth pressed against hers. The shape of your body feels like a puzzle piece, slotted perfectly into hers and molding against her, making her feel like there really isn’t anywhere in the world she belongs more than she belongs with you.

Ellies never felt like this about anyone, and it’s fucking scare her.

It’s how she ended up here, sitting on the couch in your living room and waiting for you to come downstairs and explain yourself.

She saw red when she heard you through the door, your sweet moans contained by the thick walls of your bedroom. Ellie thinks back to when those moans were for her, when you she had you a whining mess beneath her, begging to cum. She remembers how pretty your eyes were when you tugged her down for a kiss, they were practically sparkling with a need that drove Ellie fucking insane.

Knowing that someone else was seeing you that way made her blood run cold.

She didn’t sleep a wink that night, storming down the stairs of your house and settling on your couch. She was like a statue, unmoving as she waited for the inevitable moment that you’d finally come downstairs. A small part of her hoped you’d kick Abby out the same way you kicked her out the last time you were together, seemingly chalking it up to you wanting to sleep in your bed alone.

But time continued to pass, and the sun began to seep into the big windows of your home, and that never happened.

No, you stayed up there with Abby all night. You couldn’t really bring yourself to turn her away after your night together. Her strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back into her chest as her hand came up to gently stroke your hair as you fell asleep. It was blissful, the first night since your time with Ellie you were able to sleep with your mind free of the green eyed monster that had taken over your life.

Abby wakes you up with kisses to your neck, her hand slipping under the hem of your t shirt and stroking your bare skin gently as she pulls you out of your dreams. It’s almost too much, the warmth she brings overwhelming as she wakes you up. You dread the moment you’ll have to get up and walk her downstairs.

Little did you know, Abby leaving was the least of your worries.

The sound of your giggles breaks Ellie out of her various daydreams about how she’ll give you and Abby a piece of her mind. She ignores the way it makes her heart flutter, instead keeping her head straight as the sounds of your footsteps grow closer and closer.

“I should be free next Friday…I just need to make sure Derek doesn’t have any plans-“ your flirty words are abruptly stopped once you reach the bottom of the stairs and catch Ellie sitting on the couch.

“Ellie?” You call out softly, your lips tugging down into a gentle frown as you watch the girl staring blankly at the black tv screen.

She inhales deeply before finally standing up from the couch and turning around to watch you. Her appearance nearly makes you gasp, her eyes are low and dull, staring straight into your soul as her tattooed arms cross over her chest. Her tongue darts out slowly to wet her chapped lips before she exhales through her nose.

With the way she’s staring at you, you’re sure that whatever she’ll say next will be directed at you. Her stare is intense and it makes your stomach coil as you stare into her eyes, feeling like she’s judging you as she bores holes into your skull.

But to your surprise, she doesn’t.

Her state shifts behind to to Abby, who’s been silently standing behind you as she watches the awkward stare down between you and Ellie.

“The fuck are you doing here” Ellie spits out as she nods her chin towards the blonde, her words laced with a bitter tone that sends electricity down your spine.

Abby raises her eyebrows at the brunettes question, scoffing softly before she steps forward a bit so that she’s closer behind you. “Was just catching up with an old friend….I didn’t know I needed to call and update you on my every move, Williams” Abby teases, her tone far lighter and more playful than Ellie’s.

Ellie doesn’t seem to get the memo.

“Cool. All caught up then?” She bites back, eyes still laced with something that scares even you.

Abby’s tongue darts out to lick her lips, eyes still trained on Ellie. She then looks down at you, seeing how intently you’re staring at Ellie, anticipating her next move, silent as a mouse.

It doesn’t take much for Abby to now exactly what’s going on here.

She inhales deeply before she nods, her eyes dropping down to the ground before she speaks. “You’re right…I’m sure you’re very tired” Abby drawls out as she looks down at you, the smirk on her face matching the teasing tone in her voice.

Ellie feels like she’ll fucking break something right then and there.

Abby’s words make you stumble over your own. You blink quickly, practically bringing yourself back to life as you turn around to look up at her, giving her a quick nod paired with a small smile. “Yeah…yeah! I’ll uh….ill walk you out” you tell her, your hand going down to interlock your fingers with hers as you lead her to the door.

You open the door for her, inhaling deeply as she finally turns around and gives you a small smile. “Text me….ill come and pick you up on Friday” she promises, her words making your eyes go wide.

If her bold words weren’t enough to shock you, what she does next practically takes your breath away.

She leans down a bit, strong arm going around your waist and pulling you close as she presses a kiss to your mouth. It makes you gasp softly, eyes fluttering shut as you let out a small yelp which Abby swallows up happily, her hand toying with the silky fabric of your top.

When she finally breaks the kiss, she smiles down at you, her hand coming up and brushing a few strands of hair from your face. “I’ll see you later angel” she promises, blue eyes staring deeply into yours before they flicker up to Ellie, a taunting smirk on her lips as she stands up straight.

“I’ll see you around Williams” she promises, giving your waist a gentle squeeze before she finally leaves.

You’re too stunned to speak after all of that, the tension between the two women almost making you dizzy. The air was thick, and it made it hard to breathe especially when Abby kisses you like that in front of Ellie, taking the air right out of your lungs and into her own.

You don’t even want to look at Ellie right now.

She’s angry. Nostrils flared, eyes low, fists balled, she looks like she’s ready to fucking kill someone and you’re directly in her line of sight.

You can practically feel her eyes boring holes into the back of your head, and it makes your breath shaky as you struggle to figure out what to do, wondering whether or not you should turn around and face the girl behind you.

You decide that right now, you can’t.

You keep your head down as you turn around, trying your best to swiftly pass the girl to go up the stairs. You hope that this is just her being dumb and trying to cock block for the sake of it and nothing more, mainly because you aren’t entirely sure you could handle it if it were something more.

Right when you think you’re in the clear, you feel a familiar hand grab your arm tightly.

It makes you gasp softly, feeling as she pulls you to look at her instead of letting you go upstairs. You’re met with those same green eyes that were cemented into your memory, the ones that stared into yours as Ellie begged you to cum for her.

“What the fuck was that” Ellie’s voice is low as she stares into your eyes, grip tightening around your arm as she licks her dry lips.

You stumble over your words, her intense stare turning you into a stuttering mess as you shake your head quickly. “I…what was what Ellie? I don’t-“ she’s quick to cut you off.

“Don’t be stupid. Why the fuck did you choose her” the word falls from her lips like venom, the green eyed girl practically seething it out as she interrogates you.

“You did it on purpose didn’t you…you know how much I fucking hate her, so you wanted to get back at me” she accuses as she gets closer, backing you up into a wall, her body nearly pressed against yours.

Your brain practically short circuits.

Because Abby is your friend, a good friend of yours that you’d had for a large portion of your life so far. She was kind and funny and if you had to admit, you were a little shocked that you two had ended up sleeping together.

But never in a million years did you think that Abby and Ellie had some sort of infamous feud.

Your eyebrows furrow softly as you stare up at her in confusion. “On purpose? Ellie what the fuck are you talking about?” You bark back, suddenly feeling hurt over the girls accusations of you.

She chuckles softly as she nods slowly. “We both knew what you were doing…needed some attention huh? You know you didn’t need to do all of this to get it…” she hums out softly, her bottom lip tugging underneath her teeth as her hand lets go of your arms, and falls down to your waist.

Usually, this would’ve had your head spinning. And while it does make you dizzy, it isn’t at all for the reasons it would have before.

Ellie is fucking with your head at this point.

“Get the fuck off of me Ellie” you sigh out as you roughly push her off of you, allowing you to quickly slip past her body and run up the stairs before she can stop you.

You miss the shocked expression on Ellie’s face when you slip passed her, your feet padding along the wooden steps as you make your way up to your bedroom. She wasn’t entirely sure how you’d react to the quick shift in the conversation, having her going from accusing you to fucking Abby just to get to her, to trying to get it in with you right after.

You’ve had enough at this point. Ellie makes your head spin in the worst fucking way and you know that if you let her in again, you’ll never be able to put an end to whatever fucked up mind tricks she kept playing on you.

Things between you and Ellie had to stop, and you were going to be the one to put an end to it.

Ellie has fucked up in her life….a lot.

And who doesn’t, right? Humans make mistakes, not everyone’s perfect, that much is true. Ellie wasn’t perfect, which she was entirely okay with of course. She didn’t strive to be perfect, she didn’t put those expectations on herself or allowed anyone in her life to expect that of her either. She was a good friend, a great daughter, well rounded student, hard worker, all of the things that really mattered she had checked off.

But man….had she fucked things up royally with you.

Here she was, thinking she could keep you both in a never ending loop of sex and awkward interactions, top it off with some uncomfortable conversations here and there that would most likely turn into screaming matches, and that was enough.

Even though she knew it wasn’t.

You were too good for that. You were too good for the fucked up cycle that she’d created for the two of you. You deserved so much more. You deserved the fucking world served on a silver platter, any and every good thing should’ve been handed to you the moment you asked for it. Ellie had made your life a living hell since you were a kid and yet you still went out of your way to be cordial with her, never letting that sweet persona of yours drop even for an asshole like her.

Ellie fucked up a lot, but she wasn’t an idiot.

She knew why she did what she did, she wasn’t unaware of her own actions. She didn’t need a therapist to read her to absolute filth to get the answers behind why you were so cruel, it was simple.

Ellie hated the way you made her feel.

She hated the thoughts she had of you. She hated the way you lingered in her mind, your voice playing over and over again in her head, giving her no room to escape the absolute lullaby that was you. She hated how much she felt for you, realizing just how much you’d been lingering in her mind before now, even if she didn’t even realize it.

She hated that she’d never thought about a girl the way she thought about you. She hated the way she yearned for your skin against hers. She hated the way you could walk into her bedroom right now, and she’d get on her knees and beg for forgiveness.

What she hated the most though? Was the look in your eyes the last time she was staring into them.

You looked….disgusted. Utterly appalled with Ellie’s behavior, shocked that she’d even think you’d let her touch you again.

Yeah. That one was one for the books.

Ellie didn’t even know you were capable of looking so put off by someone. You were always so kind, so understanding, and you’d welcomed her happily every time she tried going to you this summer.

It seemed she’d crossed a line that she couldn’t get back over.

She didn’t even think it was going to be that bad. Sure, maybe you’d be pissed off with her for a few days, but you never held a grudge. After a day or two, you were back to your normal, bubbly self. That’s how things normally was, that’s how they’d been over the course of the summer so far for the most part.

Not this time.

Ellie almost wondered if you’d give yourself some time away from her like you’d done in the past, locking yourself away in your bedroom until you were ready to come out again. She figured this was your way of decompressing, not for a second giving anymore thought to the fact that you were in fact decompressing from her.

She was shocked when she saw you roaming around the house the next morning, bright and early before either herself or your brother were awake.

In true Ellie fashion, she pretends like she doesn’t see you.

Mainly because she doesn’t really know what to make of the situation yet. She doesn’t know where you stand, how you’ll react towards her, and clearly you’re calling the shots in this situation now because how you’re handling this plays a big part in how Ellie will handle it.

That morning, she watches you from the corner of her eyes. You go on as if you’re the only one there, your headphones covering your ears as you hum softly to the music playing through them, a song Ellie can barely make out over the gentle sound of bacon and eggs sizzling in the pan you’re working on.

The sound of your sugary voice jumping back and forth between humming the melody of the song you’re listening to, and softly mumbling the lyrics makes Ellie’s heart jump. There’s something so domestic about seeing you this way, and Ellie can’t stop the way her mind drifts off to a place in the nearby future. A place where you’re wearing your cute pajamas, sock clad feet padding along the wooden floor as music plays softly throughout the kitchen, aiding you in your morning routine of making breakfast for both you and her. She imagines wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you into her chest as she presses loving kisses to your neck, the smell of your flowery shampoo filling her nose and making her head spin, hands toying with the soft material of your sleep shirt. She imagines resting her chin on your shoulder as she eyes whatever is it you’re making for the two of you, asking if she can help in any way. She imagines the way you sway against her, the feeling of your body alone making her feel complete, making her feel like the only place that could ever be called home is you-

The sound of your back door slamming loudly snaps her out of her homey day dreams of the two of you.

The sound makes her flinch, and she can see from her spot on the couch that in the time she was having silly little fantasies about you, you’d finished cooking, plated up your food, and retreated out to the back without saying a single word.

Not so much as a look was sent Ellie’s way from you that morning, which was a side of you that she’d never seen.

You tended to hide away from the world whenever you were angry or upset, keeping that side of yourself private rather than being open with the person that made you feel that way. Ellie was an expert in that, you’d ran away from her too many times to count within the time that she’d known you. She never truly saw you angry at her, or at anyone. You gave yourself time to burn off that anger and simmer down before returning back to the you that everyone was the most familiar with.

The week after the whole Abby situation was filled with moments like that. You lived your life as if Ellie didn’t exist. Gone were the annoyed little huffs you’d give her, or the bratty eye rolls that you’d make sure she’d see whenever she got on your nerves. Those were all things of the past. It was like Ellie was a ghost, living in a reality where she didn’t exist to you. Ellie could be on fire in the middle of your living room and you wouldn’t bat an eye, instead busying yourself with talking on the phone with your friends from college or texting Abby.

Yeah, that was the nail in the coffin with all of this.

Ellie would lay in her bed night after night, straining to listening to the sound of your soft giggles paired with Abby’s voice coming in through the speaker of your phone. Ellie quickly realized that she doesn’t think she’s ever heard you laugh that way with her.

Ever.

Ellie wasn’t an idiot. She was emotionally mature….for the most part. She knew that regardless of how she felt, she wronged you. Before the Abby thing, this entire summer had been filled with different occasions of her being a total dick to you, and you didn’t deserve any of that.

Ellie knew that if she was going to get anywhere with you, she needed to apologize first.

She does it about a week later. At that point it’s been the longest since she’s spoken to you the whole summer and she’s going slightly insane. It’s raining, so you all decided to stay in. She waited in her room, legs dangling off the edge of the bed as she stared up at the ceiling, waiting for you to get out of the shower and go back to your room.

The sound of the water turning off lets her know you’re finished. She gives you a moment, wanting you to be dressed by the time she goes over. After some time passes, she takes a deep inhale before she pushes herself up onto her feet so she can make your way to your bedroom.

It’s pathetic because she can’t remember the last time she was this nervous. She sure as hell wasn’t this nervous when she was sneaking into your room to get you off a few weeks ago. All she was doing was going to talk to you and she could hear her fucking heartbeat in her ear.

Soon she’s in front of your door, taking a deep inhale before her tattooed hand comes up to rap it.

You perk up at the sound, your eyes drifting over to your door. You furrow your brows in confusion, opening your messages to see if you’d missed any texts from your brother to prompt him to visit you in your room instead. You see you have no messages, for a moment wondering if you should get up and open it. On any other given day you probably would have, but the extra guest in your house made the likeliness of it being your brother go down to about half.

You sit up in your bed, facing your door before calling out. “Who is it?” You question wearily.

Your voice makes Ellie tense up, and she inhales deeply before she speaks. “I…it’s me…can we talk?” She breaths out, her nerves forcing her voice to go shaky, making her clear her throat once she’s spoken.

There’s silence on the other end, and Ellie isn’t entirely sure how to take it. She inhales deeply before speaking again. “I know I’ve been a dick but just…I can’t apologize through a door…come on” she pleads with you once more, only for her words to be in vain once she’s met with even more deafening silence.

It makes her stomach churn, and she knows she has limited options here. She blinks a few times before her hand wraps around the doorknob, checking to see if she’s able to twist it open. Once she feels the familiar feeling of the knob turning, she’s filled with a temporary sense of relief. “Fuck it…I’m coming it” she announces, turning the knob fully before pushing the door open.

She finds you on your bed, completely unbothered as you scroll through your phone mindlessly. Ellie licks her lips as she takes you in, acting almost as if she wasn’t even in your bedroom, going about your business as you were prior to her being there.

“Can you just look at me when I’m talking to you? That’s all I’m asking for here” she begs, arms crossing over her chest as she stares down at your form in your bed.

Ellie thinks she’s dreaming when she finally hears a gentle huff leave your lips. You toss your phone to the side before pushing your blanket off your legs and move to sit up. You sit criss crossed as you give her an unamused look, a gentle frown on your lips as your eyes practically beg her to get on with what she has to say.

She blinked a few times in shock, her heart nearly beating out of her chest when she sees you’re finally looking at her. She inhales deeply before speaking again. “Look…I’m sorry, okay? For all of it. I’m sorry for being so shitty to you when we were kids and…and I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting this summer, you don’t deserve any of that shit. And I’m sorry for the Abby thing…she’s a fucking bitch but I shouldn’t have did what I did. And….and” she stutters, struggling to pinpoint where else she’s failed so she can apologize, the words she’s looking for hanging on the tip of her tongue as she runs her hand through her hair.

“And I’m sorry being so fucking mean to you all the time” she breaths out, her face flushed as she stares into your eyes, chest rising and falling as she comes down from her rant.

All you do is give her that same unamused look, let out a gentle sigh before moving to lay back down into your bed, taking your phone into your hand and going back to whatever you were doing prior.

“Cool. You can leave now” you hum out casually before turning on your side, tugging your blanket further over your shoulder, practically shielding you from her gaze.

Ellie is dumbfounded, like hanging agape as she stares at you in disbelief. She’d just poured her entire heart out to you, letting you in on the mental turmoil she’d been experiencing this past summer that was putting her quite literally out of her mind…

And you didn’t even care.

“Are you…are you fucking kidding me right now?” She scoffed out in utter shock, her hand going up to run through her auburn locks as she looked around your bedroom, almost as if she were looking for the hidden cameras that would prove this is all a sick joke.

“I just gave you the apology of my fucking life and all you have to say is…is cool??” She breaths out in disbelief, staring down at you laid comfortably on your bed, cuddled up beneath your plush blankets as if she weren’t even there.

Ellie watches as your eyes drift over to hers for only a minute before they’re settled back onto the soft glow emitting from your phone screen, a gentle sigh leaving your lips before you sigh.

“Thanks for apologizing. You can leave now” you dismiss her once again, yet another confirmation from your end that you certainly were not interested in what Ellie had to say.

Her brows furrow, green eyes staring angrily down at you, nostrils flared as she feels herself growing angrier and angrier. She doesn’t really think when she moves next, her anger is doing all the work for her.

You go from feeling the warmth of your blankets on your skin, to your bare legs being exposed to the cold air in your dim bedroom. It makes you gasp, your eyes immediately going up to Ellie who’s just yanked your blanket off of your body, staring down at you expectantly.

You were going to acknowledge her, whether you liked it or not.

You scoff, tossing your phone to the side before you swing your legs off of your bed, and stand up so you’re now face to face with the green eyed demon that had bene ruining your life since you were a young girl.

This needed to end now.

“You think that just because you barge in here and give me some half ass apology, that you’re suddenly entitled to my attention? To my forgiveness?” You question, words rolling off your tongue like venom. You don’t give her time to respond, your chest slowly rising and falling at a quicker pace as you feel yourself getting angrier and angrier by the second.

“Do you think I’m a fucking idiot, Ellie? Do you seriously think I can’t see right through this little game you have? The second you realize I can give my time to someone else who’s actually worthy of it, you feel like you’re suddenly in the position to force me to acknowledge you. What about Hazel? Hm? Was I allowed to question you for the girl you were with? Or how about when she humiliated me in front of everyone multiple times, was I in the position to demand an apology?” You question her once more before you let out an unamused laugh, your hand coming up to tuck a stand of hair behind your ear before you inhale deeply.

“If you think that all the shit you’ve put me through will ever be undone by one sorry ass apology and the excuse of you being bad with your feelings, you’re gonna have a rude awakening Ellie” you finally sigh out gently, slipping past her and making your way to your bedroom door and opening it.

“Get out and don’t speak to me for the rest of the summer” you finalize, standing at the door as you wait for her to leave your bedroom.

Ellie doesn’t really know what to say, mainly because she’s never seen this side of you. You’re always so sweet, and quiet. Even after everything that she’d said and done to you, before this summer and after, you’d never said anything like this to her, or anyone for that matter.

The look in your eyes is what does it for her, it’s what proves to her you’re not just all bark and no bite, because you’re looking at Ellie like….

Like you’re disgusted by her.

You see a side of Ellie you’d never seen that night either, because Ellie is hot headed and has a horrible temper. You expected her to not go down without a fight, going back and forth with you until you were both blue in the face. In all honesty you had a list of things ready to throw back at her when you knew she’d refuse to leave at your first request.

But she doesn’t. She stares at you for a moment, green eyes studying your face and body intently as if she was going to say something. She doesn’t, all she does is storm out of your room, footsteps angry against your floorboards as she slips past you.

When she’s gone, you feel like you can finally breathe. Your hands are shaking from the adrenaline, shoulders that were once strong and confident slumping over when you let out a deep breath, one you’d seemingly held in the moment Ellie walked into your room. You tried to keep your composure around her, you’d rather die than show her how much control she had over you, how deeply she’d settled into your bones, made it nearly impossible to do anything or be anywhere without thinking of her.

Ellie was losing her mind, to say the least

You’d made yourself almost completely sparse throughout the spacious home ever since then. You’d leave the house before anyone woke up, and you’d come home after everyone went to sleep.

There was one night in particular however, where Ellie had decided to stay home from a party everyone was going out to. It was a sorry attempt at trying to talk to you again, but she could only hope that whatever you were out doing tired you out enough to at least give her a moment to hear her out. She remembers how dark the house was that night, how quiet it was. There was a blue-ish glow emitting from the large tv in your living room, the sound of the game controller clicking gently as she tapped away at the buttons. It was late, and she was slowly losing hope that you’d come home. She didn’t want to think about that much, because you not coming home only meant one thing, and Ellie’s confused little heart truly could not handle that mental image right now.

Sometime within the night she ends up drifting off to sleep, eyes growing heavy as the pause screen stares back at her, gentle music from the video game only aiding in lulling her to sleep.

The noise of the front door paired with the melodic sound of your soft giggles is what brings her from it, green eyes slowly blinking open as she hears you clumsily kick your boots off, the heavy material thudding against the wooden floorboards as you let out a gentle groan.

“Shit…fuck…” you giggle out softly as you brace against the closet door, lazily kicking your shoes into the closet before tugging your jacket off and shoving it onto a random hanger. Ellie can tell from the way you’re giggling and talking to yourself that you’re drunk, it makes her sit up, the girl rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she adjusts the hoodie hugging her body.

Her breath gets caught in her throat when she sees you stop in front of the living room, head tilting the side in confusion as you watch the girl sitting there in your living room. It doesn’t help that you look stunning either, there’s something about how messy your hair is, a few strands falling over your shoulder, others framing your face beautifully. The dress you’re wearing hugs your body perfectly, the color complimenting your skin tone so well it was almost like it was made for you.

She’s staring so hard she doesn’t realize that you’re taking to her.

“What?” She practically chokes out, the girl completely taken aback over the fact that you’re actually…speaking to her?

You have to hold back a giggle at her reaction. Maybe it was the fact that you were drunk, or that you’d had a great time with at the party you were at, but you were able to put your annoyance for Ellie to the side for just a moment so your curiosity could take over instead. You knew your brother was going to a party tonight, and Ellie skipping out on a night out and staying home was like a fish saying he preferred his fish tank over the big blue ocean.

Or…maybe you missed Ellie.

“I said…what are you doing here? You didn’t wanna go with Derek?” You breath out, slowly making your way over to the girl. Soon you’re standing over her as she sits on the couch, big green eyes staring up at you in childlike wonder. It’s almost endearing how dumbfounded she is over you doing something as simple as speaking to her.

If anyone told you Ellie would be acting like this with you a few months ago, you’d tell them to kick rocks.

Ellie’s head is spinning when you’re this close, because she can smell your perfume lingering from your skin…god your skin, you look so soft, so inviting and warm. Her memories grew fuzzier and fuzzier with each growing day, and she was almost forgetting that she had you the way she wanted you at one point, moaning underneath her, begging for her while her hands were given your skin to squeeze and hold however she pleased.

“I…I um…” she stuttered, unable to find the words to say. Even if she could, what was she supposed to tell you. Was she supposed to tell you the truth? That she’d stayed home to wait up for you? To get this exact moment that she so desperately wanted? However now that she had it she was acting like she’d never talked to a girl in her entire life.

You hum softly, giving her a nod as if you understood the nonsense she was speaking completely. “You should go to bed…it’s late” you mumble out as you lift your head and turn to look at the clock on the wall, seeing that it was well past five in the morning. You both needed to sleep.

That’s when Ellie sees it, the standing lamp in the living room is dull, but the warm glow allows her to make out the deep purple marks littering your pretty neck, a hungry mouth latching onto your skin and marking you for the world to see.

God, it makes Ellie feel fucking sick to see that shit.

She licks her lips, ready to speak, ready to ask about who those are from even though deep down she already knows, and she knows that even if you do tell her, it won’t make anything better.

But she can’t because you’re looking down at her again with those pretty eyes of yours, the remaining lip liner fading away from your lips, leaving a pretty red tint to your soft lips. It’s been kissed away and that drives Ellie even closer to the brink of insanity.

“Goodnight Ellie…” you hum out, voice soft and gentle as you give her a half smile before you stumble off to bed, sure to peel your dress off and tuck yourself into bed only to sleep off the remaining lust and liquor that lingered in your system, unable to remember anything that was said to her when you wake up.

That little glimpse of you, of how she remembers you is what forces Ellie to hang onto you even more, even after you demanded she stop speaking to you for the rest of the summer. A moment of softness between the two of you had her groaning, shoving her face into her pillow as she yearned for more of it, more of you.

It was psychological warfare, and you didn’t even know what you were doing to her.

She doesn’t expect for that to be a peace offering from your end. She knows it was a one off, it was simply a time and place sort of thing. You were too drunk and sleepy to remember the anger you had for Ellie, and you being the kind person you are, was worried about her going to bed at a reasonable time.

Ellie hangs onto that night though, because as delusional as it makes her sound, it gives her hope.

She thinks about it particularly when your brother is sat on the edge of her bed, a loud groan emitting from his lips as he falls back into the soft mattress.

“Dude what is going on with you? You’ve flaked on like…the last three parties” your brother complains, his head tilting back to look at his best friend.

He finds her deep in thought, the brunette sighing softly as she shrugs while staring up at the ceiling above her. “I dunno…I just…haven’t really been in the mood to go out.” She lies with a gentle sigh. Well…it wasn’t entirely a lie. She really didn’t feel like going out, however it was why she didn’t feel like going out that she was leaving out of her responses to her best friend.

Telling your brother that you’re the reason she didn’t want to go out wasn’t exactly the smartest idea.

Derek groaned softly before he propped himself up onto his palms, letting out a low groan before he shook his head.

“I really need you tonight man…If you don’t go then that means it’s just me again and Hazels being a bitch about you not coming, on top of that I’m pretty sure my little sister is coming and I’m seriously going to need some help keeping those two from killing each other-“ Ellie is quick to cut your brother off the second he mentions you. She perks up immediately, the girl sitting up from her bed and eyeing your brother intently.

“Your sister is going tonight?” She’s quick to ask, so quick in fact that it catches your brother off guard. He stares at her for a moment, silently blinking as he watches the girl before he nods slowly.

“I…yeah? Why wouldn’t she go?” He questions genuinely.

It was almost incredible how oblivious your brother was to the tension between you and Ellie.

Her pink tongue darts out to lick her lips before she speaks once more. “You know what…you’re right. I haven’t gone out in a while…” she nods slowly before she swings her feet over the bed, quickly going over to her closet and rummaging through her clothes to pick out an outfit. “Get out. I need to shower and start getting ready.” She says as she begins zooming throughout her room to get dressed.

Derek watches his best friend almost in a trance. He was ready to beg her to come out at least five more times before he got shut down and inevitably kicked out of her bedroom, but he was not at all expecting her to jump up at the mere mention of going out.

Huh…maybe she was just…feeling tired?

Ellie let’s put another sigh as she turns around, hands placed on her hips as she gives your brother an annoyed look as she shrugs her shoulders. “I said get out man” she says once more. Your words seemingly finally register in your brothers head as he gives a quick nod, quickly jumping up from her bed. “Right! Yes…yeah I’m going….we leave in an hour alright?” He reminds her with an excited grin before finally leaving the girls bedroom.

Ellie usually tries to put in her best effort when going out, wanting to look good for any one she’d happen to run into, that wasn’t out of the ordinary for her. But tonight? Knowing you’d be there? She found herself struggling to wear something good, something that would make her feel confident, something that….

Something you’d like.

She saw the way you looked at her whenever she showed some skin, the way your eyes lingered whenever her tattoos were on full display for the old to see. Your eyes would linger on her inked skin whenever she had them out, so she knew for a fact she needed to show those off tonight. She settles on a pair of baggy jeans that rest low on her hips, and a fitted t shirt that allowed a sliver of her hips to peak out from beneath it. She lets out a soft huff as she runs her fingers through her hair, making sure she was happy with her appearance in the mirror before she started making her way downstairs.

Tonight’s different, because instead of everyone meeting at your house, it’s just Derek standing in the kitchen as he works on some drinks to pregame with.

3 drinks to be exact.

Ellie hums out softly as she makes her way to the island he’s set up at, palms resting against the cool marble as she eyes the concoction your brother works on.

“Just the three of us tonight?” Ellie hums out as she grabs a bottle of tequila, eyeing the label before she sets it back down. Derek hums softly as he nods, pouring what he’s working on into three red solo cups.

“Yeah, everyone else is just gonna meet at the club…it’s easier that way” he explains before he passes Ellie one of the cups, bringing one to his own lips as well as he eyes his friend. “Hazels coming though…she’s been asking about you for weeks man” he smirks out as he takes a sip of the drink.

Ellie practically winces at the mention of the girls name, but plays it off as the drink getting to her instead. She lets out a low groan before she shrugs. “Yeah man I…I don’t think I’m feeling her anymore” she explains, taking another sip of her drink.

Derek raises his brows at the girls words before he chuckles softly. “Oh? That’s new. You were talking about her the entire drive down here…” he quips before he takes another sip. “Got your eye on someone else?” He questions, giving the girl time to respond.

That makes a chill run down Ellie’s spine, because it’s comical how aware yet oblivious your brother is to the entire situation. She opens her mouth to respond, on the brink of actually telling him and admitting to herself that it’s you she has her eyes on, it’s you that has her so absolutely torn up she can barely get out of bed and be productive during the day because of how much she’s fucked up. It’s all you and she can barely fucking function without-

The familiar patter of your feet against the stairs has her thoughts cut in half.

You’re humming gently to yourself, hair styled perfectly when you come into view, denim shorts hugging your frame, wrapping around your hips and thighs as if your body was the only one in mind when they were made. Your pink top is such a pretty, shimmer material, the light catches different patterns on it and it looks like you’re practically glowing. Your lips are glossy, shimmery and pretty, it makes Ellie’s head fucking spin.

God, she’s so obsessed with you.

You give Derek a small smile as you slip past Ellie as if she wasn’t even there, standing beside him as you reach out to point towards the remaining solo cup. “This one for me?” You question, Derek nods as he slides the cup towards you. “Yes ma’am. Made sure to use tequila instead of vodka tonight, didn’t want to upset the princess” he mocks, patting your head gently which makes you roll your eyes as you nudge him gently. “Vodkas fucking gross. You guys are insane for guzzling that shit” you sigh out softly before you take a sip of your drink, a gentle hum leaving your lips as you give a nod of approval. “It’s good, thanks” you give your brother a soft smile as you thank him before you take another sip.

A blanket of silence falls over the three of you, Ellie’s eyes are practically glued to you as she eyes you closely, taking in your every move as her eyes linger on yours. You’re trying your best not to give into it, because you’d be able to feel those green eyes boring holes into your face even if the room were pitch black.

You let out a soft sigh before you quickly throw back the rest of your drink, not wanting to prolong things anymore or give Ellie any openings to ask you any questions in front of your brother.

“I’ll get the uber tonight, you guys can buy me drinks at the club” you hum out casually as you tug your phone out of your back pocket, mindlessly tucking your bottom lip beneath your teeth as you tap along your screen to call for the uber. Ellie’s eyes never leave your lips after this, zeroing in on the gloss painting your bottom lip while you focus on your screen.

God, tonight was going to be long.

It all happens in the blink of an eye. One moment Ellie is sat in the back of the uber with your brother, listening to you and him chatting back and forth with the uber driver. You were both always so friendly in that sense, sharing a sort of charm that she’d only ever really seen in the two of you. You were almost like twins in that sense, sharing that same charismatic, friendly, almost annoyingly likable personality. The moment either of you walked into a room, all eyes were always on either of you.

Then the next, you’re trailing behind her and your brother as they lead you both to the rest of their friends at the club. Ellie is so locked in on the idea of you, thinking of how she’d be able to get a moment with you, that she hardly realizes Hazel is squealing and practically jumping out of her spot in the booth and into her arms.

“Ellie! Where have you been!” She whines softly, pulling back and practically smashing her lips against Ellie’s before she’s given a chance to respond.

Ellie’s eyes go wide at the gesture, completely caught off guard by her forwardness. She places her hands on her hips, gently tugging her off of her body as she breaks the kiss, which is only met with an annoyed whine from Hazel. Ellie catches onto it, making out the image of the girls expression through the dim lighting of the club. She licks her lips, staring into the girls eyes for a moment before she turns her head to find you, suddenly only concerned with whether or not you just saw that.

When she does spot you, your eyes are already on the pair from your spot in the booth, snuggled between two of Ellie’s friends that are far too concerned with taking shots and laughing about whatever the hell they were talking about to notice the pouting girl in between them.

The moment you realize Ellie catches your gaze, you’re gently tapping the shoulder of your brothers friend, giving him a gentle smile as you ask him to scoot out of the booth so you could get out, wanting to head to the bar for a drink.

Ellie’s eyes linger on yours as she watches you leave, slowly losing you as you slip in between the crowded club to make your way to the bar. Hazel notices too, whining softly as her manicured fingers cup Ellie’s face, pulling her back to look at her instead of you. “What are you looking at? Didn’t you miss me?” She questions once more, the girl clearly getting more annoyed with the lack of response from Ellie’s end.

Ellie furrows her eyebrows as she lets out a sigh, looking away from the girl for a moment before she opens her mouth to speak. “Look Hazel…I’ve been thinking a lot and I just feel like-“ Hazel cuts her off with a soft huff as she shakes her head, wrapping her arms around Ellie’s neck as she leans in to press another kiss to her lips. “You just need another drink. I’ll ask Derek to grab us something, then we can dance, okay baby?” She promises with a reassuring smile before leaning in and pressing another kiss to her lips, giving her arm a gentle squeeze before she set off to find your brother.

Ellie let’s put an annoyed groan, tattooed hands running down her face as she watches Hazel completely disregard what she was saying, more so interested in following whatever narrative she had instead.

Why the fuck did Ellie ever like that girl to begin with.

Ellie tries her hardest to find you all night, but for some reason looking for you in that club was like trying to find a needle in the biggest haystack ever. Between Hazel clinging to her like a fly on a trap, to her friend group trying their best to catch her up on what she’d missed the last few outings they’d been on, Ellie felt like she was being pulled in ten different directions when all she wanted was a moment alone with you.

Ellie sees a fleeting moment when Hazel excuses herself to go to the bathroom and most of her friends have either found their way on the dance floor, or to the bar. Unfortunately for her, she’s already pretty tipsy at that point. Between her friends and Hazel, everyone wanted to show how much they’d missed her by showering her in alcohol.

Who knows, maybe the liquor is what she needed to finally face you.

She stumbles out of the booth you’d all been sat at, sighing softly as she made her way through the sea of people in search of you. She starts by looking for at the bar, then near the bathroom line. When she finds you’re neither there nor here, she inhales deeply as she makes her way to the dance floor.

Ellie wonder how it had been so hard to find you earlier, chalking it up to you most likely hiding from her, because as soon as she makes her way onto the dance floor, it’s almost like there’s a spotlight on you.

Your shirt dances in the multi-colored nights of the club, making you look almost magical. Your body moves like water to the music, hair swaying against your back as you put your hands up into the air and sway your hips without a single care in the world.

Ellie’s mouth goes dry at the sight of you, her drunk brain wishing for nothing more than to be able to call someone as beautiful as you, hers.

She licks her lips, walking into your direction. Her arms reach out for you, her hand coming down to rest against your waist as she leans in to talk into your ear over the loud music.

“Hey…can we um…can talk?” She shouts, giving your waist a gentle squeeze as if to give you a silent attempt at getting you to come with her.

You furrow your brows when you feel someone approach you, already exhausted from fighting off countless idiots that tried to dance with you. You just wanted to be alone and enjoy the music as if no one was watching. The drinks were good, the music was even better, and after how this summer had been going? Some alone time would do you good.

But Ellie clearly had other plans.

You want to ignore her, you want to put her in her place like you did in your bedroom that night. She deserves it, you know she deserves it, she knows she deserves it, and it’s about time you stand up for yourself within this fucked up situation you’d found yourself in with Ellie.

But that look in her pretty green eyes is so damn pitiful, you aren’t sure you can deny her anymore. After all, there’s still that little piece of you that’s so damn weak for Ellie.

You let out a gentle sigh, turning to look into the girls eyes before you give her a nod, knowing that denying her will only make her fight harder. You nod your head towards one of the stairs of the club, leading her up them.

Soon you two reach the rooftop patio of the club. The vibe is a bit less stuffy, and you spot an empty sofa near a corner where you think is a good spot for you two to speak.

You let out a gentle sigh as you sit down, patting the spot next to you for the girl to sit down.

The rooftop faces the beach, the cool sea breeze wafting against your warm skin. It’s a nice contrast from the hot, sticky club. If it wasn’t for the awkward circumstances, you think it would be a sweet place to bring Ellie up to.

You’re the first to speak despite Ellie asking to talk to you, a soft hum leaving your lips before the words leave your mouth. “Didn’t know you were still with Hazel….s’bit hypocritical of you, don’t you think?” You mumble out softly, your leg crossing over your knee as you wrap your arms around your own arms, staring out at the crashing waves before you.

Ellie blinks a few times at your words, the girl still a bit dumbfounded that she somehow got you out here to even speak to her in the first place. She doesn’t at all expect you to speak first, but your words make her frown gently.

“We aren’t together…we never were” she mumbles out softly, ignoring your other words as she lets out a gentle sigh.

“I don’t know how many times you want me to say sorry…I know I was wrong, okay? If I could take it back, I would” she sighs out, her back slumping into the couch as she spreads her jean clad legs, hands running down her face as she lets out an irritated sigh.

You scoff gently before you finally look over at her. “Even if I do forgive you Ellie, what do you want from me? Am I supposed to believe that after years of making my life hell, you suddenly give a fuck about me? Can’t you see how this is a little hard to believe?” You explain gently, your anger clearly having subsided since the last time you both spoke about this.

You sigh softly before you turn away from her, speaking once more. “You just want me because you can’t have me. You’ll get over this the second the summers over” you say to her, sounding almost as if you were trying to convince yourself more than you were her.

Ellie perks up at this, staring at the side of your face as you refuse to look at her. “You can’t be serious” she deadpans, the girl sitting up and resting her elbows on her knees as she cranes her neck down to look at you.

“I don’t get it either, okay? You’ve always been this…thing in my life that was so out of touch. I never even thought to think of you that way no matter how fucking irresistible you are. I knew crossing that line wouldn’t get me anywhere good but…fuck I didn’t think it would be this bad” she explains, her own eyes scanning out onto the rolling seas out on the horizon, giving herself a moment to think over her words.

She licks her lips for a moment before she sighs, finally looking back at you.

“What I do know, is that…I can’t get enough of you. And I’m willing to do whatever I can to prove that to you” She practically begs, her words filled with a sense of something you aren’t sure you’ve ever heard from Ellie before. It’s something mixed with desperation, pleading, honesty….

Longing

It makes your stomach turn and your chest burn with something for her you’d been ignoring the entire summer, your entire life even. You inhale deeply as you finally state into her green eyes that are staring desperately into yours, your tongue darting out to lick your lips before you finally speak. “Anything?” You question, your voice above a whisper as the word leave your mouth carefully.

It all happens in a blur, one moment Ellie is nodding eagerly at your question, the next, your dragging her out of the club, slipping past the mountain of sweaty people and quickly catching a cab, and the next thing Ellie knows…

She’s being dragged up to your bedroom.

Ellie feels like her head is spinning when you press your body against hers, soft mouth molding against hers as your hands wrap loosely around her neck. You taste of cherry lipgloss and mint, your soft tongue rubbing against Ellie’s makes her heart swell because she wasn’t sure she’d ever get the privilege of feeling you this way again.

Her hands roam your body, fingers sliding into the belt loops of your shorts as she pulls you flush against her body, needing desperately to feel you against her in every way possible.

You sigh against her, turning the both of you around as you begin leading her back towards your bed. She feels your palms press against her chest, forcing her back so she’s now sitting on your bed.

The sight of you above her makes her head swing, it makes Ellie tug her bottom lip between her teeth as her hands slide around the backs of your knees, pulling you closer as she spreads her legs for you to stand between them. “Missed you so much baby….more than you know…” she sighs out, eyes never leaving yours as one of her hands slides against your top, pushing it up as she presses her lips against your hips, leaving the lightest kisses.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch her. Her stare is intense, the look in her eyes telling you everything that you ever needed to know without a single word.

She was yours for the taking.

You inhale deeply as your hand comes down to Ellie’s hair, running your fingers through the silky strands for a moment before you tuck a strand behind her ear gently, tilting your head to the side as you watch her nip and suck at your skin.

“Such a pretty girl….” You hum out softly, your words making Ellie’s eyes flutter shut as they earn a gentle squeeze to your hips, her tongue swirling against your skin as her teeth come down to tug at the waistband of your jean shorts.

“But you need to be taught a lesson, Ellie….” You finish, words trailing off as they hang in the air. They excite Ellie, despite not knowing the extent of them. The fact that you have her here alone is enough for her, and she’ll do whatever the hell you want her to, to keep this going.

“Do whatever you want to me…I told you…I’ll do anything for you” she sighs out almost obediently, needy hands gripping your hips tighter just to keep you close.

Your hand goes from gently stroking her hair to taking a fistful of it, tugging it back to pull her away from your skin, forcing her to look up at you. It earns a needy whine from the girl, pink tongue darting out to lick her lips as she stares up at you almost in awe, watching as you handled her with a sense of wonder in her eyes.

“Good….because I don’t plan on being nice…” you sigh out softly, letting go of her hair roughly before you leave her for a moment, walking off to your drawer to grab something. “Lord knows you weren’t….” You mumble out softly, more so to yourself than to the girl.

Ellie hears it though, and it makes her wince with how badly she’d been treating you.

You come back soon enough, not giving Ellie enough time to dwell on things, on you. She doesn’t see anything in your hands at first, only that you’d slipped something into your back pocket. She can’t focus on that much, not when you’re straddling her lip and settling down on her. It makes her sigh with content, the girl eagerly pressing her lips back to yours now that you’re back with her.

She lets her tongue play with yours, the kiss is messy and needy and Ellie’s hands roam your body like it’s the last time she’ll ever have you, the girl desperately wanting to imprint this very feeling in her brain so she’d never have to go without it. She feels herself growing wetter and wetter by the second, panties clinging to her core as she feels too grinding against her lap, kissing her so sweetly, playing with her so nicely, she felt she could cum from it all alone.

Soon you’re pushing her back into your bed, forcing her to lay down against your pillows. The smell of your floral shampoo makes her head spin, it feels like she’s died and gone to heaven at this point. You’re on top of her, and she’s in your bed in your room and she isn’t sure she’s ever been happier to be in a girls bed.

Your hands come down, tugging at her t shirt before you pull her up a bit, pulling it off her body and tossing it somewhere in your bedroom, leaving her top half completely bare. She doesn’t care, she’d have you undress her any day. Your hands come down again, grabbing either one of hers that are rested firmly on your hips. You remove them, taking them both and holding them above her head, your hand keeping them bonded by her wrist. She doesn’t pay much mind to it, simply enjoying the feeling of your lips against hers.

Soon she’s getting antsy, and she groans as she fights against your grip. “Lemme touch you baby…need to feel you…” she groans against your mouth before she’s pushing her tongue back against yours. She feels you smirk against her lips before you sigh, one of your hands leaving her wrist for a moment, going to your back pocket and pulling something out. It’s dim in your room, the only lighting coming from the small lamp on your bedside table, so she can’t see much. All she does know, is soon she feels a soft, silky material running along her wrist that makes her shiver. She feels you tying something around her wrist, firmly creating a knot so she’s unable to move them even more so than when your hands were holding them.

She watches as you finally pull away from her, staring up at you as you straddle her waist. The look of confusion on her face makes you giggle, your hand coming down to gently trace the frown in her brows with a soft hum. “I told you, you needed to learn your lesson, Ellie….girls who treat other girls like you, don’t get things so easily…” you explain, your lips coming down to latch onto Ellie’s nipple, tongue swirling around the little bud and making the girl moan loudly as she arches her back, forcing more of her into your mouth.

You bite down onto it gently, making her whine softly before you let go of it with a pop, humming softly as your thumb comes down to flick her wet nipple from side to side for a moment before you move onto the other, giving it the same attention as the first.

“You think you can just come and go as you please…playing with me when it’s convenient for you…but that’s not how this works” you hum softly, every other word interrupted by a kiss as you make your way down Ellie’s body. She’s a moaning mess, wiggling and bucking her hips into you as she shakes her head eagerly. “That’s…that’s not it at all! I promise…fuck…I like you…I like you so much baby, you’re not like those other girls. I fucked up so bad with you, and I’m sorry” she pleads with you.

She’s only met with a soft hum as you undo her jeans, tugging them off and tossing them somewhere else in your room, sighing softly when you spot the damn spot on her panties. You’re settled between her legs now, thumb drawing small circles into her inner thighs as your other hand gently tugs her panties to the side.

“I know baby…I can’t give into you easily regardless though…you understand, don’t you?” You asked gently, watching her for a moment before you turn your attention back to her sopping wet cunt.

“Jesus Ellie…you’re so wet baby…this all for me?” You ask her gently, your finger coming down to gently rub her angry clit. This makes her moan loudly, the girls head tossing back as her hips grind into your touch, eager for more of what you’re giving her.

“Fuck…yeah…s’all for you baby…no one else” she breaths out, staring down at you with needy eyes as her hands tug at the restraints you have her tied up by.

You hum softly, nodding slowly as your fingers rub slow circles into her clit before you bring your face closer to where you knew she needed you most. “Poor thing…why don’t I help you out a bit, hm?” You question, spreading her legs further as you stare at her for a moment before you latch your lips onto her clit, sucking harshly.

The moan that rips through her chest is pornographic, the girls back arching almost painfully as she melts into the feeling for your tongue working on her clit.

“Fuck…that’s it…fuck don’t stop baby…doing so well for me” it’s almost comical how her dominating words make your stomach coil despite the clear power dynamic that you’ve set up between the two of you. You moan softly into her sopping wet cunt, tongue lapping up her juices as your hands squeeze her thighs, keeping them apart for you.

“Look so fuckin’ pretty down there baby…you don’t know how often I…fuck…think about you like this” she admitted with a whine, staring down at you as her hips rolled against you, the girl practically riding your face as you took whatever she gave you.

But that wouldn’t do, would it?

Ellie’s moans grew louder, her rhythm getting sloppy as she tugged at her restraints. She was babbling incoherently and you knew for a fact she was getting close.

“Come on baby…take it…fuckin’ take it” she whined, brows furrowing as she stared down at you, eyes never leaving the sight in front of her as she bit down on her bottom lip so hard she was sure to draw blood.

It was almost painful for you to break away from her, wanting desperately to make her cum on your tongue, but you knew you couldn’t give in so easily, not yet at least.

Ellie let’s put a pathetic whine when you pull away when she’s right at the cusp of falling over into the pool of her orgasm, hips bucking into nothing as she hides her face in her arm. “Fuck…why’d you stop I was…mm…I was so close” she whined as her hips rolled with need against the air, the poor thing searching for anything to give her the release she so desperately needed.

You hummed softly as you crawled up her body, finally giving Ellie the chance to see that you were still fully clothed and she was completely bare before you. She moaned softly when your legs came down to straddle her naked body, the girl staring up at you with needy eyes as you gave her a smirk, hair framing your face as you ran your fingers along her nipples before giving them a gentle pinch, earning a needy whine from the girl.

“You didn’t seriously think I’d give it to you that easily, did you?” You giggle softly before you hum, leaning down and catching Ellie’s lips in a messy kiss. She moans loudly against you as she tastes herself, her pussy fluttering around nothing as she welcomes your lips willingly.

She whines when you break the kiss, chasing your mouth which she fails miserably at due to the restraints.

“You’re a smart girl Ellie…use that big brain of yours” you hum out softly, your words only earning a whine from the girl beneath you.

You hum softly, leaning down and giving her one more kiss before you crawl off of her body. Ellie’s eyes never leave yours, watching as you slowly tug your tank top up and over your head, leaving your top half bare. You then work on your denim shorts, tugging them off with your panties and licking them to the side, leaving you bare just like Ellie.

She’s staring at you like a woman starved, eyes eating up every inch of your body as she licks and bites at her lips.

God she wish she could touch you.

“Untie me baby, lemme touch you…I’ll make you feel so good” she begs, tugging at the ribbon wrapped around her wrists as she watches you return to the bed, straddling her body. She has to bite back a moan at the feeling of your soft, naked body settling on top of hers. The feeling of your skin against hers alone is enough to make her cum.

“You hum softly as you shake your head, scooting back for a moment before you take Ellie’s right leg, tugging it up for a moment. You take the opportunity to settle your pussy right on top of here, letting her leg rest against your shoulder. You smirk softly as you reach down to rub her clit, hissing softly at how wet she still was.

“Stayed so wet for me baby…I know you’ll enjoy this” you tease the girl, disregarding her pleas of being cut from her restraints as you spread her lips, giving you the opportunity to press your clit right up against hers.

The feeling has Ellie’s words getting caught in her throat, because she’s no longer focused on g being cut loose. Now all she can think about is the feeling of your cunt sliding against hers.

“Fuck….feels so good baby…so fucking good” she whines out, eyes rolling back into her head as she watches the way your hips skillfully work against hers.

You moan with her, plump lips pressing along her calf as your own eyes flutter shut. You’re able to stop the act for a moment, simply enjoying the pleasure you got from riding Ellie’s pussy. One of your hands came down to pinch her nipple, which earns a loud, pathetic moan from Ellie.

“You’re so pretty when you’re not a bitch…prettiest girl ever” you moan softly, hips rolling against hers as you drive both of you closer to your orgasm.

Ellie nods eagerly at your words, accepting the compliment and the insult all in one. “M’so sorry baby…I’ll never do it again…I’ll treat you so good if you’ll let me..I fucking promise” she moans loudly, her own hips rolling to match your rhythm.

Her words make you moan loudly, because she’s practically begging for it, begging for you to give her a chance.

You weren’t sure you’d ever hear such words from Ellie.

“You get so stupid when you wanna cum…don’t you baby? Promising things you don’t mean” you whine out as you grip her thigh firmly, picking up the pace as you chase your orgasms.

Ellie shakes her head wildly, shaking her head as her green eyes go wide. “I’m not lying! I…fuck….baby I…I think I…” her words get chopped up by her moans. The pleasure is too much, and she feels tears prickling at her eyes as the feeling grows closer and closer. It’s overwhelming and Ellie is sure she’s never cried while getting fucked but she…she can’t handle this…it’s all…you’re too.

“I…fuck I love you!” She practically screams out as she cums hard against your pussy, her body shaking beneath you as she lets go completely.

You gasp loudly at her words, your own eyes going wide for a moment before it all slips away from you, your orgasm taking over as it forces your eyes to roll back in your head, your neck falling back as you ride your orgasm out against her, practically using the girl beneath you as you slowly grind against her to finish things out for the both of you.

You’re both breathing hard, the girl beneath you an absolute wreck. Ellie’s cheeks are flushed, her body covered in a thin layer of sweat as she stares up at you with hazy eyes, chest rising and falling as you both sit there in silence.

You struggle to catch your breath for a moment before you reach forward, a gentle whine leaving Ellie’s lips as your clit brushes against her sensitive one. You undo the knot on her wrists, finally giving her the opportunity to be free before you crawl off of her body, moving to lay down next to her.

The magnitude of what was said, what was done, fills the air of your room. It’s thick, and it almost makes it hard to breath as you both lay there for a moment. Ellie lays there with you, staring into your eyes as she cuddles into your pillow. You expected her to leave as she always does, this was your get back, and you were slowly accepting this being the end of it all once it was over.

But she never left.

“I meant it, you know” she finally breaks the silence, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. She licks her pink lips before she sighs softly.

“I know it’s fucking weird…and out of nowhere…but I think it’s sort of…always been there” she explains further, hating the lack of a response that comes from you as she pours her heart out once again.

Good things in life never came easy, and you were as good as they fucking came. Ellie should’ve known things couldn’t be handed to her so easily when it came to you

“I get it…if you don’t want to take things further with me. It’s weird how I’ve gone about things, and I don’t blame you for not wanting me-“ she doesn’t expect to be cut off by the feeling of your soft lips. If she was being completely honest, she didn’t think she’d ever feel your lips against after tonight.

Yet here you were, kissing her.

She doesn’t take long to return it, her tattooed hand coming down and tugging your waist closer so your body is pressed against hers. Her hand comes down to tug at your thigh, pulling it over your body to keep you even closer.

“It’ll be weird…but not being with you is gonna be even weirder” you explain with a soft sigh before you finally pull away, staring at her with your brows furrows gently.

“You’re gonna do everything you can to make it up to me though…for being so mean” you tease her, and Ellie is nodding eagerly at that. “Whatever you want. Seriously” she urges. Her eagerness makes you giggle.

You sigh out softly as you tug your plush blankets over your bodies, pulling the girl down and pressing her face against your chest. She lets out a sigh of relief at the gesture, her entire body relaxing more than it has probably the entire summer.

All of this just felt so…right.

Ellie feels herself drifting off to sleep, eyes growing heavier and heavier with each passing second.

“Ellie?” Your voice is soft and quiet, tugging the girl between sleep and wake as she gives a small hum of response.

“I love you too…” you whisper softly, barely loud enough for hear, but she does regardless.

It’s when she hears that, that Ellie knows despite all the bullshit she’d caused….

It was all worth it

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x you #ellie williams x reader #tlou part 2

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hor3nee · 1 year ago

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• Fatherhood •

What kind of dads are the JJK men ?

CW/TW: GN! Reader, Mentions of crappy parenting, BREIF mention of pregnancy in Geto's, (Lmk if I should add anything else!)

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji x Reader

AN: Almost cried writing this the baby fever is going HARD rn dude. Headcanons !

• Gojo •

Menace of a father, but in the good way! Gojo spends his years raising his kids as if he's their best friend, truly and genuinely treats his kids as equals and in a sweet way, allows his children to have complete trust in him. Because Gojo is quite childish himself, he loves playing with his kids, making a fool of himself, and indulging with them.

Has a bit of a bad side to this though, his lack of traditional discipline or making himself the 'adult' in the situation leads the kids to both be very spoiled and not really ever listen to him.

"Sweetheart, darling, my perfect angel, can you please go to bed?? pretty please! Help your old man here, please??"

"Nuh uh!" And with that bout of defiance, he's back to running up to you, like HE'S the child, begging for your help. Because it seems you're the only one who can get the kids in line, and you do.

Plays pranks and teases the hell out of his kids as they get older, always in a loving way of course, but nonetheless loves getting them flustered over his stupidity. Type of dad to do dumbass dances in the middle of a Walmart to embarrass his kids.

• Geto •

Geto is optimum of what it means to be a gentle parent. Cannot, for the life of him, bring it in himself to yell at his kids. He's so soft-spoken, never so much as raising his voice against his children. Geto has children who respond to his voice alone, because it's so lulling, he's familiarized them with it and made them feel safe with it.

Doesn't mean he can't discipline them, of course he can, and he does so extremely gracefully. Whenever you're on your last straw with the kids, fighting the urge to start scolding them and yell, he steps in, smoothly taking over and the kids instantly listen to him.

"We're your parents, honey, c'mon that's not very nice to say, is it? They carried you for 9 months you know. Say sorry." Like magic the kids shut up and come over to you apologizing while Geto stands back, calmly having fixed the situation with ease.

With everything Geto does, has done, experienced etc, he can sometimes feel conflicted. Geto knows what he is capable of, and what he has done, he's extremely self-aware even if he justifies it, and he can struggle to balance the weight of all of it while also remaining a dutiful father.

Despite it, he does wonders keeping it separate from what his children have to see or experience, teaches them respect and kindness and hopes they hold true to it.

• Nanami •

Not a single man on this list fathers as hard as Nanami fathers. He's built for it like no other. Nanami treats fatherhood with his all, he puts his all into it and makes damn certain he does right by it. Stern when necessary, sweet when needed, provides for his kids and refuses to miss any important milestone of theirs.

Nanami is a calm man but the second work starts piling potentially making him miss his kids school play or something he's arguing with his supervisors and ready to throw hands.

He keeps the drawings his kids make on his desk, alongside a photo of you and your kids. Literally just stares at it while working smiling, unable to wait till he's home with the kids. They are his pride and joy genuinely.

No matter how over-worked Nanami may be though, when he comes home you are basically on vacation. Insists you rest and he takes over literally everything involving the kids.

"Darling, darling no, I got this covered. You take rest. You know I love spending time with my kids." He says with an earnest smile, both kids in his beefy arms just dangling around and playing with their father. He's definitely exhausted from work, but that never stops him.

• Sukuna •

The King of the Curses, as cruel and terrifying as he is, taking pleasure in all sorts of sickness and treating love as pointless, legitimately likes his kid.

He doesn't care about fatherhood, or the responsibilities that being a parent entails, but it's nice having a mini version of himself around. That he likes. An extension of himself and you, it's nice to have around he doesn't mind it. He may act aloof about it, not outwardly showing affection like hugs or kisses, but he clearly enjoys it.

He gets a massive ego trip when his kids cause chaos and disturbances. Points at them laughing with his belly "See that? That's mine."

Sukuna never minces his words though, and his kids have to get used to his bluntness. Again, he doesn't care for the concept of 'parenting', and will in their face call the kid some extreme insults and weak and they have to learn to take it.

On the flip side, Sukuna also never minces his praise, and Sukuna has an abundance to give his kids. Every accomplishment or show of strength that they show he'll let them know he's proud. A good ol' fashioned fatherly slap to their shoulder while he praises them.

He treasures his children, and even if he doesn't put much effort into parenting them, you taking over most of it, he's definitely a present figure in their lives.

• Toji •

Went to get milk, hasn't been seen since.

#sukuna x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #satoru gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #gojo saturo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x you #gojo x you #geto x you #dad!sukuna

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imsilay · 2 years ago

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LETHAL

NSFW! mdni, cw: possessive behavior, somnophilia, drugging, stalker!König, obsessive König (idk lmk if i forget anything)

word count: 1.5k

summary: he was picky and he picked you.

next chapter here

art cr: Tava_tavatic on twt

You were doing the dishes as he was watching you from the apartment building next door which had a wonderful view of your bedroom and kitchen. He had seen enough to know many things about you and your life. You left your house at 10 AM every day and returned at 8 PM. You were a homebody, never wanting to leave your home aside from work and you only had your cat for company. You lived alone in a nice house and didn't often have friends over. He couldn't see any guys when your friends came by, meaning you were single, perfect.

He could even hear the music you were playing while doing the dishes. Your delicious-looking lips moved in time with the song, mumbling the lyrics. He couldn't tear his eyes off your lips. Focusing on them and imagining how they would taste. Perhaps blackberry? He had seen the lip balm you bought a few days before when you complained about how dry your lips were in the winter. Would you let him taste it and find out? Would you even look at him after discovering what he did?

His thoughts were cut off when you finished cleaning the dishes and embraced your cat, it was bed time. His gaze was glued on your back as you left the kitchen and disappeared into your living room, and then reappeared in your bedroom. He knew every part of your house. His heart raced when you put the cat down on your bed and then began removing your shirt revealing the curves of your body and the black bra he was stupidly fond of. He moved closer to the window without realizing it. Crossing his arms to stop the aching feeling to touch your smooth skin, his fingers dug into his arms when you finally tossed the shirt somewhere in your room, probably onto the chair, and then threw yourself onto your mattress.

Yawning and getting comfortable with your cat, it purred and get its place next to you. He wishes it was him… Curling next to you falling asleep with the warmth of your body. But it was impossible, cause he was just your sweet neighbor that you only had small chats, cause he was fucking massive and probably would take the majority of the space of your bed. You eventually fell asleep, he checked his watch. Just in time.

Well maybe it wasn’t that impossible…

He continued his observation for a few more minutes but he was unable to contain himself anymore. He had to be with you. He had to feel you, your body, your hair, the curve of your waist and hips. He wanted to touch your lips, but he was afraid that if he kissed you he would just get lost into them and fuck you there.

He shook his head and pulled himself out of his thoughts before they got dirtier. He grabbed the keys of his and your house and made his way to your apartment. After entering your home and closing the door behind himself, he took his sweet time to breathe in the smell. It was full of you, it made his head spin and heart race. This was his first time coming into your house when you’re there. You were so introverted and had barely any friends. You were living happily in your small world, that was until he came.

The man was over two meters and had on a strange looking mask. He immediately drew your attention because he just looked like some game characters you played. At first he was distant, cold. His icy-blue eyes were intimidating but somehow inviting. You were the first to start the conversation with him, asking about his work. You two became closer with time but it was never too friendly. He was just some neighbor you knew. But he wanted more. Much more.

So after many months of observation and gaining a lot of information about you, he managed to copy your keys. He would come into your house and feed your cat with treats making his presence known and loved. Unfortunately just with your cat. But now his dreams were coming true. He had given you some homemade cookies. And poor you accepted them without any suspicion and now you were on your bed, in a deep sleep, as he walked into your room. Your cat immediately noticed him.

But he was too mesmerized by your sleeping form on the bed that he was frozen in his place. The cat meowed loudly, drawing his attention to it, he gave it some treats he brought with him. Everything was planned. When the cat was out of the room and the door of your bedroom was locked, he walked to your bed. He was finally here. Right next to you as you slept beautifully. He swallowed thickly and sat on the bed. The bed made a squeaking noise with his weight.

You looked even more pretty this close. His gaze lingered on your face; his breath hitched when his gaze stopped on your lips. He reached out a hand and brushed the strands of hair off your face. He was so nervous that his hands were shaking when he touched your hair. It was as soft as he imagined it would be. He tucked your hair behind your ear; his fingers lingered on your jaw before stopping on your chin and tilting your head up just a little, just so he could see your face better. Your lips parted and a soft sigh escaped from your lips when he did; his heart skipped a beat.

You continued to sleep, without noticing the man's touch on your face, thanks to the cookies. His thumb caressed your lips. He closed his eyes for a moment and bit his lower lip. He was holding the urge to give into his feelings, to give in to his desires and take you just then, in that moment. But he had to be patient. He wanted your first time together to be special, like you deserved. But it was turning him on so much to see you in that vulnerable state. He just wanted to tore of your bra and see what’s underneath. Then move to your sleeping shorts and take them off along with your panties so he could eat you out until you cum or wake up. He wondered what your expression would look like.

But still… it was just his fantasies. It caused him pain physically. “Scheiße, Maus.” he mumbled with a sigh. He took of his mask with his still trembling hands and put it on your nightstand, then took of his boots placing them on the floor next to your bed. He was ready to curl up with you. He climbed next to you, close. So close that you felt his breath on your face. His heart was beating like crazy now. His hands found your waist. “Gott.” he hissed when he felt how soft your skin was. His arms snaked around your waist and drew you close until your body fit perfectly with his, lips only centimeters apart. “Mine.” he growled. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack because the proximity of your body. Your body was almost disappeared inside his arms. It only made him want to protect and posses you.

His fingers caressed your skin as he watched your face closely. To memorize everything about you. He even tried to count your eyelashes. It was stupid but he was just too lost in your beauty. One of his hands found yours and put it on his face. Like you was caressing his cheek. It was pathetic but he was too desperate for your affection. He left your hand on his cheek and his hand found your back. His fingers tracing up and down on your spine then eventually stopped on the clasp of your bra. “Nein, not now.” he scolded himself with his eyes frowned. His gaze found your lips again and softened. He wanted- no he craved to kiss you. Your lips looked delicious.

He swallowed and closed his eyes promising himself that he would stop after a taste. When he opened his eyes, he was determined to contain himself; to show restraint. So, his hand was on your chin again, tilting your head up to meet his lips. When his lips brushed against yours, he took in a sharp breath; like someone just hit him with a bat, kissing you felt like it. His hand on your waist pulled you closer, as close as he could. His kiss started slowly, with all of his love and affection; with all of his feelings. But the craving... the craving only grew. His whole body shook as he stole your breath. The determination of containing himself was no where to be found with his morals. He moaned into your mouth and his cock throbbed. His hands traveled down and big palms covered your hips. The kiss was sloppy and hungrier now. He was too lost into heaven. You were his heaven.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc<3

Stalker König has a special place in my heart. this is definitely my favorite work. also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)

i’m so sleepless so i’m just gonna post this and post the rest tomorrow.

#konig x you #könig smut #könig fanfiction #könig x reader #könig x y/n #konig cod #konig smut #konig x reader #konig x y/n #könig #i know it’s könig #konig #konig mw2 #konig imagine #stalker #tw stalking #obsessive könig #stalker könig #silay

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heegyukeluv · 9 months ago

Text

... and a bit more (sjy)

EXTRA FOR "A HUNDRED SUNSETS" (read it here)

pairing: jake x afab!reader

synopsis: It's been years since you and Jake started dating, now dealing with adult life, which became an easy thing as you both shared it together, full of love and support. Yet, years in a relationship can make you wonder if your loved one still sees you with the same intensity. So you decided to reassure Jake that no matter how many years you stay with him, your love and desire will remain as passionate as ever.

my's note: i’m so obsessed with these characters AND SO ARE YALL WTFFF!! I’M THRILLED WITH ALL THE SUPPORT I’VE RECEIVED FOR THIS WORK i did NOT expect this to get this many likes and reblogs and comments and stuff 😭😭😭😭 sooooo here’s a lil gift as a THANK YOU!!! thank y’all for every word of appreciation towards my writing and my work. i really meant it!!! hope you enjoy this one as much as “a hundred sunsets” 💖

warnings: established relationship, jake is a bit insecure in this one, teacher jake (as a job! he’s not y/n’s teacher), pet names, reader blushing/turning red! smut w plot! (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) - oral sex (f. receiving), slight choking (j does to y/n CONSENSUAL. SHE ASKED. and please for god’s sake don’t do it if you don’t know how to do it properly), reader kinda suffocates jake (but he likes that lol), j. cums inside, unprotected sex (don’t do it !!), car sex (oral only!! f. receiving). lmk if i missed something!!

wc: 7.5k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire

Jake’s head was aching with the amount of highschoolers he was dealing with everyday.

Choosing that career path was a childhood dream come true; to be able to teach other people about what he loves the most – after you, of course – brought so much joy to his life, he was constantly on cloud nine. Having you by his side to celebrate every little achievement with him played a big part in that as well.

However, as with every other job, there were some days he wished to erase from his memory in order to forget not only how stressful it was, but how annoying some teenagers can be.

Jake knew he didn’t had to worry about your feelings for him in any way.

You showered him with love and affection in every single action of yours and that was pretty much enough. You would pack him lunch with cute little love notes, you would stay with him until late while he read his articles and prepared his classes, you would pick him up every now and then to get him to a date – even after years, you both still loved watching the sunset together, whispering love promises until nightfall, only to continuing saying them under the moonlight.

Your big smile and shining eyes greeting him whenever he got home acted like words unspoken, but just in case you made sure to say them constantly.

But sometimes there are things that some teenagers say that can really hurt your ego and hit you directly in your insecurities if you let them in. And the words he heard that day echoed through his mind the whole afternoon.

You were working on some work papers in the living room when you heard the front door unlocking. Quickly you stood up to greet Jake with a hug.

You never understood how you always managed to miss Jake even now, after you both started to live together, but at some point you just gave up trying to figure it out, accepting your fate of never getting enough of your amazing boyfriend.

“Oh, hey there, professor,” you welcomed him with a sweet smile, already cupping his face with your hands and placing a tender kiss on your favorite lips, the same plump, red and soft ones you always loved to feel on yours.

“Hey, babe.”

You tilted your head, confused. Although Jake reciprocated your kiss, the mood wasn’t right.

You never expected Jake to be bright and cheerful all the time, never, especially when coming home from such stressful work. Alongside that, his intense studying sessions in order to get better at his job and eventually become a university teacher helped him to get overwhelmed from time to time, so you respected the moments he vented out about his burdens, listening with all your heart and asking him if he wanted some advice or just to be heart.

Most times he just asked for a warm hug and a kiss, and of course, you under no circumstances would deny such a heartwarming request.

You knew it was the minimum, but you appreciated how Jake never discounted his stress on you. Actually he would be always saying you were his stress reliever, so you really weirded out with his actions today.

Not only was his demeanor quite off, kindly pulling you away without deepening the kiss to leave his bag and coat beside the door, but his face expressed something you read as concern and sadness.

You watched Jake walking quietly to your room without explaining a thing, so you followed him right away, heart hurting in worry.

“What’s with the frown, my love?” You asked softly when you both arrived at the room almost at the same time, you behind Jake, who was now starting to get undressed.

He said nothing as he took off his glasses to put on the nightstand and unbelted his dark blue trousers, sitting on the bed to unbutton the first buttons of his white dress shirt, not fully finishing any of his actions like he was in some internal dilemma preventing him from working properly.

Your concerned gaze followed his every move until you finally heard his voice. “Do you love me?”

Now was your time to frown as you approached him. “What’s this question, Jakey? Of course I love you,” you sat beside him and your hand almost instantly grabbed his to gently squeeze it, playing with his fingers.

He was glancing at a random spot on the floor while you tried to read his face.

“No, but like, do you still think I’m attractive? Do you really feel desire for me or do you fake it?”

You could see he was a bit embarrassed for asking that so you, again, reassured him with your words and actions. “I’m really confused right now, my love. Of course I do feel desire for you, you’re the hottest man I’ve ever met. And yeah, you are attractive as fuck, Jakey,” you lifted his chin with your fingers to face you. “What’s with all that? Tell me what happened, mhm?”

Jake locked his eyes on you for a second, already feeling a bit better meeting his favorite two orbs looking at him with so much love, warmth and reassurance. However, although he appreciated every genuine feeling from you, he wasn’t asking you for any of that at the moment.

He needed to know if you still saw him as an attractive guy, so he averted his gaze as he started to spill what was on his mind all day.

“Some random kid told me that you’d easily leave me for a hot guy if I don’t treat you right, and I don’t normally care about what some of them say because y’know, teenagers and their full of nonsense minds, but–” He sighed, pain starting to drip all through his words. “I– I know that you love me, and I love you too. But what if– What if I don’t pleasure you enough?” His eyes searched for yours again, eyes a bit red like he was about to cry. “What if you realize you can find some other person that can fulfill your fantasies and desires in a way I can’t?”

Jake let everything out all at once, every corrosive thinking that dwelled him throughout the day, knowing he was in a safe space, that you were his safe place. You got a bit surprised with the sudden rant, but listened with care and attention to know what to do whenever he stopped, but your head was already spinning with all the information he was giving you.

How could he think that? Jake was an incredible boyfriend, in a way that you worried to give him love enough to keep him close, because the thought of Jake leaving you frightened you too much.

You always felt like no action or words of yours could show him how much you loved and needed him around. To imagine he thinks a similar thing made your heart pound in pain.

“You’re hot and young and beautiful and so easy to love. Everytime I ask myself how I managed to bag a goddess like you. I can’t bear the idea of losing you, Y/N–”

You had to shut him up with a kiss, and then another, and another, until you felt him relaxing under your touch. You moved your body to sit on his lap, his hands looking for comfort on your hips right away. “You will never lose me, Jake,” you whispered, his warm breath brushing against your skin as you admired each feature of his pretty face. “I love you. I want you. Only you,” you pecked his lips again before continuing to speak with a small smile, your hands resting on his shoulders. “You’re everything I've ever wanted, you’re everything I need, my love,” and one more sweet kiss. “Don’t ever doubt that, okay?”

And then you finally kissed him properly, sighing when you felt his tongue searching for yours, touching you so intimately, so passionately, so full of love. Your hips were moving in little circles on his lap, already feeling yourself getting wet and his dick getting hard.

You thought about sharing your own insecurities keeping the same theme, but that was Jake’s moment of being loved, and you were willing to let him know in every breath, touch, kiss, word of yours how much you cherished him, how much you adored his presence, how much you treasured every single moment with him, and of course, how aroused Jake could make you feel just by being close.

You never spoke directly to him about that, but Jake was magnetic. Your eyes always searched for him, observing how his movements seemed meticulously calculated to leave you wanting more, all the time making you lose your mind doing the simplest things.

Seeing him walking around the house wearing nothing but loose gray sweatpants that showed the hem of his boxers with his study glasses and messy hair always made you squeeze your thighs together and swallow hard on your seat.

Same thing whenever he got ready for work in the morning, getting all dressed up in his dress shirt with coats/blazers or just a casual long-sleeve shirt, never forgetting his black specs – everytime you had to hold yourself from tossing him back in the bed to ride his face with that fucking glasses.

Or when he was focused on his studies, deep in thought with furrowed brows and lips pursed a bit, from time to time biting his tongue, making you worder how hard he could fuck you while looking at you like that.

And not to mention whenever you were in the car with Jake being the driver, his hands gripping on the wheel and his veiny arms popping out looking so unnecessary hot, to the point you almost had to ask him to pull over to fuck you deep with his slender pretty fingers.

You were so sure that your craving eyes shamelessly undressing him was noticeable, but now you got to know that maybe you should start to show off how he affected you more often in order to make Jake understand that his breathing near your ears alone could make you go wild.

You bit his bottom lip and pulled away while grabbing one of his hands from your back to lead it down to the hem of your shorts. “Feel that, Jakey?” You asked after forcing his hands to touch your clothed cunt, smirking. “Can you feel how wet I am just by kissing you, pretty boy?” Jake nodded dumbly while open-mouthed moaning on your lips just by feeling your already dampened panties, hooded eyes looking at you with nothing but passion and lust, his own dick growing hard in his pants. “That’s how much you affect me, my love.”

The whole atmosphere had switched and none of you complained, because the main reason for Jake's down feeling was the idea of losing you due him being unable to satisfy you, which you decided right away to tell and show him he was doing way more than you expected, and always so right.

Jake always surpassed your expectations. You were so fucking lucky.

“Let me love you, okay?” You quickly locked your lips one more time, addicted to his taste, before pushing him down to lay on his back on the sheets, hands leaving your warm, clothed pussy, to hold you still on top of him. “Let me show you how good you make me feel and how much I want you,” and your mouth searched for him again as if it never felt enough.

Every touch of your sensitive area on his bulge was making both of you groan between the messy kiss you were sharing, the taste of his tongue on yours working as a drug, making you wonder if you could stay like that forever.

Unwilling you parted away again, getting out of the bed to start to undress yourself as a little show for Jake. That night fate designed you to choose to wear his favorite black set of lingerie, so he was watching you with hungry eyes, devouring each curve of your body with his eyes, like you were his favorite meal – and just to add, he would watch you the same way even if you were wearing torn clothes. Jake was so in love and obsessed with you, anything about you made him feel insane.

You gave him a smirk before removing your panties and climbing on him again, loving the way his eyes were glazed on your chest, the bra of the lingerie set making it squished together and too pretty for him to handle. He bit his own lip as if he was holding himself, breath growing heavy, the dim light of your shared bedroom making it look even hotter, with his messy hair, glistening, red, swollen lips and eyes full of adoration and desire for you. Only for you.

“I need to eat you out,” he uttered in a hurry, almost sounding drunk when his hands touched your bare hips, caressing your warm skin and making you shiver. You smiled cheekily.

“Of course you do, pretty boy,” you planted a tender kiss on his nose, both of his cheeks, his chin and on his forehead, “That’s why I’ll be sitting on your pretty face right now,” and then a final kiss on his lips as you watched his eyes sparkle in joy and enthusiasm in anticipation, you couldn't hold a little laugh.

Jake had a not so little oral fixation, always finding a way of placing his lips on you, nibbing or sucking any part of your skin he was able to, your pussy being his favorite. And who were you to deny such things? You always let him use your body for his own satisfaction, because you knew how hard he could get just by the thought alone of eating you out, and there were many times he came untouched while doing it.

It was a win-win situation, with you hitting your best orgasms every single time, making your pretty noises just for him, dripping all over his tongue.

Jake’s heart fluttered with the view of you getting on your knees, hovering yourself while touching your dampened folds with your own fingers just to place your cunt directly on his mouth. He was in heaven, eyes instantly closing as he exhaled your scent, getting drunker and drunker on you.

You sat slowly on him, a little afraid of suffocating your cute boyfriend who now had his arms hugging your legs, pushing you down without a care in the world, like suffocating himself on you was everything he ever wanted.

Jake always began with a big, long lick, collecting all you arousal just to feel your taste and mix it with his own saliva, drawing out a moan from you, before starting to suck you with passion, almost like he was slowly making out with your pussy, the tip of his nose constantly rubbing your sensitive clit as he went faster, the ragged breath tickling your skin while he was focused on you.

Your hand searched for support on the headboard, the other unconsciously grabbing Jake’s hair just like you knew he loved, giving it a little pull once and while to show him how much pleasure he was giving you.

“You always make me feel so, so good, Jakey,” you said with a gasp, your body reacting out of lust, hips rolling back and forth trying to match Jake’s rhythm.

The whole visual underneath you showed a forbidden scene that only helped your arousal to increase; Jake’s sweaty hair was getting stuck on his forehead, eyes closed and arms holding you closer with his veiny hands squeezing your thighs, pushing you even more into his face. “And you look so fucking hot right now, Jaeyun. Shit.”

You threw your head back and rolled your eyes when he started to intercalate his movements to tongue-fucking you, lewd wet sounds now filling up the room. “Your mouth does wonders on me, you know that?” Your breath was heavy, your whole body on fire, the only thing coming across in your mind right now was to cum all over his face.

You wanted to make sure Jake understood how fantastic of a job he was doing, like ever, and how much you loved the way he guided you through your pleasure, giving you everything you needed. “You always eat me so good, my pretty boy–” You interrupted yourself with a loud whimper when he focused on your clit, sucking, flicking his tongue on it. “I’m close, Jaeyun– fuck. I’m really close,” you could feel your orgasm building up on your core, Jake also noticed how your body was reacting by you avidly riding on his face, legs tensioning a bit, you already caring less about suffocating him or whatever – he always told you to go hard on him, and loved every time you did.

Jake was so in heaven.

He himself started to moan on your cunt, intensifying his attention on your clit, his mumbles vibrating in your sensitive area.

“You’re my precious boy, isn’t that right?” You said with your voice weak and heard a little muffed ‘mhm’ as a response. “So make me cum, yeah, Jakey?”

To get you off was always Jake’s own pleasure, especially when he was using his mouth to do so. God, Jake loved to hear your pretty sounds, how you would moan his name so pleasing, your body trembling by pure lust, you losing yourself when you were close to your climax, overwhelmed by all his stimulus.

So Jake focused even more to make you to cum. At this point you were a whimpering mess, rushing over to achieve your orgasm so desperately that small tears started to form in the corner of your eyes and your hands tightened on Jake’s hair when you finally did, spilling your juices all over his mouth.

Jake maintained his tongue working on you, passionately collecting all of you, groaning with delight as he felt your taste melting on his tongue.

You tried to catch your breath for a bit before removing yourself from Jake’s face, hissing when you felt your thighs burning due your own work and the position you stood for so long. You flopped on the bed besides Jake to recover yourself, listening to him gasping for air as well, but with a satisfied grin adorning his glistened, attractive lips.

“You are insane,” you whispered, smiling before propping yourself on your elbow to give him a sweet kiss, opposite to all the sexual atmosphere that drifted around the room minutes ago, your hands searching for comfort on his neck, deepening the touch.

“Yes, for you,” Jake replied between the kiss, shifting a bit to be on his side so he could give you proper access to his mouth, and also to rub his fingers on the bare skin of your waist, pulling you closer. When he did that, you felt his hard bulge brushing against you and startled, parting away from him to give a questioning expression.

“Jaeyun,” you touched his still clothed and neglected cock.

“Ah–”

“Why didn’t you stop to at least remove your clothes?” You asked genuinely worried, already moving yourself to do what you just said. “This must be hurting so bad, my love,” you watched how his dick jumped out of his boxers when you took it off.

“It is…” He whispered, face contorted in pleasure and relief when your warm, soft hands started to pump his shaft. “But you’re always my priority, sugar,” he said with a smirk, looking down to watch you for a second.

You loved how Jake managed to make you smile and your heart flutter in moments like those, constantly ensuring that you felt loved before anything else.

You collected the precum leaking out of his tip with your fingers, to ease your movements as you accelerated a bit. Due to his sensitivity, he almost instantly opened his mouth with a loud moan and started to buck his hips into your touch, wanting more of it while whispering “P–Please...”

You kept giving the attention he needed, cupping his tip with your hand to move it in circles. Jake whimpered, voice cracking a little ‘fuck’. He was melting under your touch, so sensitive, his body slightly squirming beneath you, needing more of you.

Although you were enjoying the view and how reactive he was just by your hand alone, you wanted more of him, so you voiced it out in a serious tone “I really need you to fuck me,” as you moved away, leaving him missing your warmth around his dick so you could lay on your back on the bed.

Jake immediately understood the assignment, positioning himself over you, his necklace dangling near your face. You smirked as you pulled him closer so your mouth could meet his, but he broke the contact before you could do so.

“Let me just get rid of this shirt bef–”

“No!” You rushed to say, grabbing his arms to interrupt his attempt of removing his dress shirt, “Don’t, please,” you said quietly, feeling your cheeks burning by the shyness that hit on you, averting his curious gaze.

“Hm?” Jake lifted an eyebrow, puppy eyes trying to understand why you were reticent all of a sudden.

He decided to not undress himself fully as you asked to do so without questioning it much, leaning to kiss your neck, his soft lips already knowing every sweet spot of yours. His goal was to make you relaxed, reassuring you that whatever you said he would respect and listen with all the love he had for you.

“I have this fantasy…” You started to speak after a while, enjoying his light, still hot touches, now you being the one melting for him.

“Yeah?” He whispered, keeping sucking, biting and kissing your neck, jawline and collarbone area, shivers spreading all over your body. He was thrilled with the idea of you sharing more from that side of yours, knowing damn well how hard to say it out loud was for you. Jake would always give you all the time in the world, though.

You took advantage of his face being buried on your neck to keep talking with a slight lack of confidence. You were afraid of how Jake would react. “I–I always wanted you to– To fuck me wearing a dress shirt,” you stuttered a bit, but finally voiced out what have been on the back of your mind for a while, gulping nervously while your hands tried to find comfort on his hair, playing with it as a habit of tension.

You heard a little chuckle from Jake, which made you worry that he might find you a bit pathetic.

But it was Jake, after all. The one that managed to surprise – and most important, to respect – you every single time. “You’re so cute,” wasn’t what you expected to hear. Jake pulled away, gently holding your chin for you to face him. “Does my gorgeous girlfriend get turned on by me wearing a dress shirt?” The sultry tone and the charming grin decorating his lips made you blushing even harder, not to mention the fluttering excitement in your stomach. “Did I get it right, sugar?”

You saw Jake shirtless countless times, yet the view right now of his chest showing just enough because the first buttons being undone alongside his dangling silver necklace was driving you insane, breath growing heavy as you licked your lips, not saying anything.

Every reaction of you being catched by Jake’s sharp gaze. “I need your words, my love,” he whispered, teasingly brushing his lips on yours.

“Yes, Jakey,” you whispered back, trying to push your embarrassment away. “You look so hot on it.”

“There you go,” he smiled proudly at you, but also confident by your compliment.

He finally kissed you properly, sucking your bottom lip and then immediately deepening the touch by adding his tongue, messily kissing you just how you wanted.

One of his hands slowly found its way down your body, fingers brushing your folds before inserting two digits without a warning; due to your wetness he had no trouble in doing so. Your moan got lost into his mouth, your own fingers messing his hair even more, nails scratching his nape and scalp.

Jake’s lips traveled down to your neck while his hand continued its job on your entrance, in and out in a slow, painful pace. He kept going down with his kisses, stopping on your still clothed boobs.

“Can I remove these?” He asked, pointing to your bra and you nodded, breathing heavy as you helped him to undress you fully, missing his fingers inside you.

Jake would constantly ask permission before removing any piece of your clothes, and in particular, your bra. You once told him how much more comfortable you felt wearing a bra during sex, especially if you were riding him. At the same time, you were totally aware of his love for your whole body, so alongside that, you gave him the consentment to remove the piece whenever he felt like it. And every time he questioned if he could.

Jake straightened his back for a second just to appreciate your beauty.

He questioned how he got so lucky to have you like that, all naked just for him to touch, gorgeous body just for him to glorify, your face, in a perfect blend of love and lust, just for him to see. Everything. Just for him. How?

“Only you can have me like this, Jakey,” you spoke softly with an equally gentle smile, like you were reading his mind tripping over insecurities again – although you felt a bit shy under his intense gaze. “You’re the only one I love.”

He sighed. A lovesick type of sigh, the one he let out whenever he realized – once more – how much in love he was with you, the one that always came with a cute smile, the one with a devoted gaze.

Then he leaned down again, giving you a quick kiss before continuing his work, focusing his mouth now on your tits, gently swirling his tongue on your hardened nipples while sucking on it. You gasped, hands rushing to tangle your fingers on his silky hair. He gave the proper attention to both of your boobs, making you even more wet, before moving down to kiss the interior of your thighs.

“Please, Jaeyun– I wanna feel you inside of me, please.” You pleaded, already feeling impatient.

You heard him let out a soft laugh before trailing his lips all over your body, up to your lips, whispering with a sweet, yet alluring tone. “Your wish is my command, princess,” and he aligned his cock on your entrance, slowly entering you. He gave you little kisses all over your face, capturing all your expressions of pleasure and then said “I love you.”

Your lips curved with the tender, sudden confession, moaning when you felt him finally moving, your hooded eyes looking for Jake’s to whisper “I love you too, my love..”

And you also loved how Jake filled you up so good, so deep inside you, thrusting his hips in the pace he already knew both of you enjoyed.

Normally Jake would be willing to let you take control all over him, especially if you were using him to reach your own high – riding his face or his cock, coming all over his body, making a total mess. He loved that. But from time to time you would silently ask for him to take over, laying down on the bed and letting him be the one in charge of using your body. And he had to admit that he also loved that.

To watch your eyes rolling whenever he hit your g-spot, the little frown of delight mixed with your mouth open, chanting his name in between moans in such an endearing, alluring way without even realizing it, fully surrendered. He could cum just by watching it.

The room quickly was filled with groans and moans from you two, Jake intertwined your fingers together and lifted both your hands above your head, holding himself steady as he kept thrusting harder and faster into you, wet sounds mixing with your names being whispered by each other’s mouth, lost in pure ecstasy.

“Choke me,” you whined at some point, wanting more and more of that addicting feeling. “P-Please, choke me, Jakey,” you managed to move one of your hands still interlocked with his, positioning it on your neck, letting it go for him to do what you asked for, his movements slowing down a bit as he was trying to fully understand your request.

Jake’s eyes gleamed with a bit of shock and excitement. Wasn’t your first time asking him to choke you, but everytime he got somewhat surprised. He placed his hands around your neck, gently squeezing the spot he learned from you that is the right one. Jake was always very cautious with the act, observing your reactions and never taking more than a few seconds, doing just enough for you to feel the pleasure you wanted to. And you so did.

Your mouth fell open with a loud, choked moan when your air got stuck in your throat. The view of him with his white dress shirt holding you like that made your mind go dizzy for a brief moment. You gasped for air as soon as Jake released the tightness on your neck, feeling him kissing you right after but you couldn’t kiss him back, your orgasm near the edge already making you too messy and out of your mind, so he went down to bite and kiss your neck.

Jake’s hot breath on your skin, he sounding so gorgeous, lascivious groaning your name, together with all the overwhelmness your body was going through and his dick deep into your pussy the way you loved, was enough for your second orgasm to hit.

Without a proper warning you screamed Jake’s name while your walls clenched around his cock, he himself moaning with your tight cunt making it difficult to move. Your hand squeezed his when you hit your climax, and it took just a few more pumps until you felt Jake’s warm liquid filling you up along a groan. You hissed.

Jake fell on your body, panting hard and burying his face on your neck. You chuckled when your mind got back to yourself, remembering what all of that was about. “Does this answer your questions?” You asked, out of breath.

“What?” Jake whispered, lips tickling your skin when he did so.

“That I’m not leaving you anytime soon.”

Jake hummed against your skin, now understanding what you meant. You felt him smiling right after.

“I think I need a few more reminders, just in case.”

So on a random morning, while staying loyal to your job of making Jake fully aware of your deep need for him and how profoundly he affected you, you watched him getting ready for work with you still on the bed.

You two always woke up almost together, while Jake took a shower and brushed his teeth, you made breakfast and prepared his lunchbox together with a cute note – it wasn’t an everyday routine since some days Jake had lunch with you at home or on a little date.

After eating, you would go watch and help him with his clothes whenever he needed it. You loved to watch him like he was your favorite show, especially because your day started a bit later than that so that was kind of the quality time you two shared every morning.

But today the show was a bit… different.

Jake looked like a lost puppy, shirtless in front of his wardrobe trying to figure out something to wear, barely noticing you hungrily eyeing him up and down not caring much about his whole dilemma.

He turned to you to ask. “This one or this one? What do you prefer?”

You quickly eyed the options and pointed to the red and white striped long sleeve – one of your favorites, so it was your honest opinion, actually.

However you had other ideas running through your mind, so you went closer to him, hugging his warm body from behind before he wore the shirt. “But you look better without any of them, y’know that?” You glanced at him from the mirror in front of you both, your hands caressing his toned chest faking an innocence. Jake’s eyes caught yours showing your clearly second intentions, shifting to a darkened atmosphere right away.

“You think so? Should I go shirtless then?” He asked playfully with a smirk. You giggled mischievously, turning him over so you two could face each other, your hands on his waist while he cupped your face.

“You’d definitely turn some heads,” you teased, leaning in closer, voice turning into a low whisper. “But I’d rather keep the view all to myself,” and with that your lips met his to share a passionate kiss, your small giggles and smiles getting lost in between.

Jake’s body pushed you to start walking backwards while his hands moved your head to the side to deepen the touch. You stumbled your legs on the bed, falling over it without breaking the contact, Jake hovering you as you felt his bulge hardening against your thigh.

He broke the kiss to pick his phone from the nightstand, tilting his head. “We have about fifteen minutes,” and glanced back at you with a smirk, diving into you once again.

“More than enough,” you murmured, shivering with the feeling of the tip of his nose and lips brushing against your neck, giving little kisses on there, your panties dampening just by that.

You sighed, letting out a quietly whimper as Jake’s lips gently sucked a sensitive part of your skin. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer for you both to kiss. You tried to undress him quickly, removing his sweatpants and boxers in one go with his help after he removed your shorts and panties, leaving you with only your oversized shirt.

You felt his hands traveling down your body until his fingers touched your folds just to collect your arousal to make you nice and ready for him. Jake jerked himself off for a bit, spreading his precum all over his shaft to finally replace his fingers.

He moaned in your ear when he finally felt your tightness around his cock, the action alone making you quiver. You loved to hear Jake’s pretty noises, especially this close. But you wanted more – and time was running out.

“Faster,” you whispered while softly dragging your fingernails all over his back, annoyed by his slow pace not increasing gradually as you expected and wanted.

However, Jake was in the mood of teasing you for a bit – as if you both had plenty of time – by keeping his movements the same, slow and steady, taking his sweet time to watch your frustrated frown. “Jaeyun…” He giggled against your cheek, kissing you afterwards and then he started to go faster, just how you ordered.

Although he was a teaser sometimes, Jake's favorite thing to do was to comply with your wishes; anything you asked him to do he would be willingly doing it. And during intimate moments, he would take his sweet time to observe and understand every reaction of your body whenever he was touching you, at this point of the relationship already knowing how to read you and how to make you feel even better.

So when you started to moan his name in between whimpers, one of his hands slid under your shirt to give your boobs a gentle massage, rubbing your nipples, making you squirm underneath him.

“You’re so pretty,” Jake said tenderly, staring at your face contorted in lust. So gorgeous and just for him.

His fingers let go of your boobs to rush down to rub your clit when you whispered “I’m close, please, don’t– Don’t stop,” with a ragged breath, pulling him closer in a messy, hot kiss. The well-known wave swept through your whole body as your warm liquid coated Jake’s dick. “Fuck,” you rolled your eyes, enjoying your high before coming back to reality to watch Jake focused on now achieving his own climax. “You always fuck me so good, pretty boy,” you whispered while panting and caressing his sweaty hair, a bit overstimulated by his thrusts into you. He groaned and you felt his dick throbbing inside you. “Always fill me up so good, isn’t that right?”

“Fuck,” he whimpered, lips parted while his whole body trembled on top of you, his release inside of you making you moan due your sensitiveness.

“I guess we– We went too intense for a quickie, sweetheart,” he said in between heavy breaths. You laughed, kissing the top of his head.

“You’ll need another shower.”

You persisted in carrying on your plan whenever possible, loving Jake in all the ways you could, showing him how much of an amazing, attractive, irresistible and captivating man he truly was.

Jake was thrilled with all the affection you were showing, not that you never did it before, but he noticed you being more obvious and confident about sexual talks; whenever you got turned on by him doing minimal things, you demonstrated through your words and actions. He knew how hard for you it was sometimes to be so open about your own desires, and he was genuinely happy that you were trying for him, but also unconsciously getting better for yourself.

You were confident, so was Jake. You both created a bound so unique and powerful that could be scary sometimes, but worth it every second.

Jake appreciated every moment you voiced out your needs, now that you knew that he wanted to know any thoughts of your fantasies about him.

On the other side, Jake maintained his whipped self as evident as ever.

Your smell all over the house, your gentle touches whenever you both decided to cook together, your laugh sounding far better than any tracks on the car radio, your cute pout when he had to go to work instead of being on the bed with you for a few more minutes, your presence being so notable when you both went out – and Jake feeling lucky to be the one holding your hands and making you giggle – and, of course, your lips always tasting like heaven, like home.

Jake made sure that you felt needed, loved and cared as well.

And on that day he made one important decision, which was making him a bit more nervous than the normal as he drove you both to a little date on a distant beach you two discovered during one of your many car travels together.

Paramore’s “Still into you” was playing on the radio and you were singing with a bright smile as if it was for him. He was so in love with you, soft eyes watching you whenever he got the chance, smile never leaving his lips.

Jake was glad you couldn’t notice his heart beating fast – not only because of how gorgeous under the sunlight you looked, all happy, but due to his nervous self as well.

When he stopped the car, far enough to avoid any possibility of people seeing you two, he had one thing on his mind before putting his whole plan on work, breaking down the romantic atmosphere.

“I know it’s totally out of the blue, but I need to–”

“Eat me out?” You huffed a laugh, holding his hand. “Yeah, I’ve noticed you’re a bit nervous today, my love. Is it because of your presentation next week?” You asked, watching him pause his moves to give you a flabbergasted expression, making you laugh. “I know how to read you, pretty boy,” and with that you gave him a cute wink.

Jake bit his bottom lip before stepping out of the car. You watched with a smirk as he walked around to open the door for you, just to pull you into a kiss and drag you eagerly to the backseat.

You giggled in between the kiss as Jake leaned you fully on the seat, hovering you the way he could due the limited space. Both of you were glad that you chose to wear a skirt that day, so things should be a bit easier.

You felt Jake’s hand sneaking into your clothing piece to slowly rub your clit over your panties the same moment he trailed down his lips to nibble every sweet spot of your neck, the one near your ear making you whimper, your hands scratching his scalp gently.

“You have no idea of how much I’ve been craving you. All day thinking about your pussy on my mouth,” his low tone made you shiver.

“I’m all yours, my love,” you replied in a similar tone and heard him letting out a groan.

Jake took your answer as a green sign, his impatient fingers moving your panties to the side so he could start to pump it into you. He observed your soft features turning into lustful ones and couldn’t hold back his urge to capture your lower lip with his teeth before smirking and going down on you.

“Legs on my shoulder, princess,” Jake said as he positioned himself between your thighs, mouth watering as if he was going for his favorite meal. With your help he moved your panties down just enough for him to dive into you with passion.

Your hands found comfort on his hair, as always. Not only did you loved to grab it, feeling the silky strands running through your fingers, but Jake enjoyed it as well, groaning with pleasure whenever you pulled a bit harder or guided him to ride on his face.

Jake’s mouth made its work on your cunt by sucking, licking and flicking his tongue every once and a while, his nose rubbing on your clit whenever he shook his head purposely to create that friction, hearing your pretty moans filling up the car. Your back arched, your hips bucked forward and your thighs tried to close every time Jake gave more attention to your sensitive clit. His name being the only thing voiced out by you in between moans.

The sensation of Jake’s hair tickling your thighs worked as a stimulus as well, your body always responded to any of his touches with such intensity, as if you were made just for him. And you strongly believed you were.

“I’ve got you, sugar,” Jake said muffed when he noticed your walls clenching more around his tongue, you threw your head back, breath growing heavier and heavier, your mind doing a full spin because of how good Jake was working on you. “Cum for me, yeah? All over my mouth, babe.”

And as if he gave you permission to have your orgasm, you did, your juices being drunk by Jake fervently while you screamed his name. You were panting when he leaned over to share your own taste with you. Jake helped you to get yourself together, giving you water and a tender kiss on your forehead.

After you both recovered – mainly you –, you got out of the car to watch the sunset. As you normally did, you sat on the car hood with his help, and since the car was facing the horizon you both could watch it together in a hug, with Jake between your legs.

“Y’know what I was thinking of?” Jake murmured against your cheek.

“What?” You asked back, gently playing with his hair. The sound of the waves crashing on the rocks soothing the atmosphere.

“When I once said I could watch a hundred sunsets with you, you’d still be the prettiest view,” he looked at you with tender, lovingling eyes.

“Oh,” your lips curved in a sincere smile because of the reminiscence. “The first time we said I love you.”

“Yeah, I still agree with the last part,” he whispered, planting a small peck on your lips as you giggled. “But–” Jake sighed nervously, hesitant on his words.

Your heart started to beat faster since you noticed a shift in the mood. “Yes, my love?”

“I don’t think a hundred sunsets will be enough, Y/N,” he said seriously and you noticed how his cheeks got colored by a light shade of pink. You blinked, confused. You watched Jake get a little box from his pockets, opening and showing you two rings, one of them having a moon and the other a sun. “Would you let me be with you for a bit more?”

Your lips parted in shock. Your eyes began to burn and before you could even stop it, tears ran down your face as you hugged him tightly, laughing in pure joy, repeatedly saying “yes”.

Jake once promised you a hundred sunsets – and a bit more.

Now you promised him your heart. A thousand times, if necessary.

#jake x reader #jake sim x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #jake hard thoughts #jake hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enha smut #jake smut #jake imagines #jake sim hard thoughts #jake sim hard hours #heegyukeluv works

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heartlogan · 9 months ago

Text

the story ends

✮— logan x f!reader (set in xmen days of future past)

✮— summary: the day that logan lost you

✮— a/n: again, only my second time writing for logan so be gentle pls, i specialise in angst but this isn’t my best </3 (also, could be connected to all coming back to me — my first logan fic. no reading order!)

✮— warnings: probably ooc! MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, depictions of dying, it’s set in the original timeline so it is sad, talk of loss and death, one (1) moment of affection, major angst, guilt, sentinels, canon typical violence, & gore (ish, but to be safe), BLOOD, pronoun ‘she’ used, unspecified mutant reader, lmk if theres more!

MASTERLIST

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

There are so many things you had lived to regret in your life, so many things that you had dwindled on instead of simply moving forwards. And in the end, none of it had ever mattered. No matter what you had or hadn’t done, life had led you here — to the very end of the world.

You hadn’t fought in wars like Logan had, weren’t used to the brutality of it all. Fighting, and battles, all of that you were familiar with. But not this. This was on another level.

The X-Men had been helpless to fight against this, unable to resist such a tidal wave of hatred and murder. The Sentinels had destroyed so many of your kind already, that there were barely any of you left to fight anyway. And those of you who had lived through the initial slaughters had been scattered across the globe, made to search for one another while constantly trying to evade those seeking n you out to kill you.

It was exhausting. All of it. And it wasn’t only you who felt that way — those remaining were all tired. Tired of the constant movement, tired of the constant loss, tired of the neverending chase. You could see it on everyone’s faces — Charles looked as bad as you had ever seen him, struggling to cope with the loss of almost all of his students. And Ororo, you could tell, was fighting to hold herself together. She had lost too many people, too many friends. Magneto was no stranger to loss, especially like this, but it was written all over him, too.

And there was Logan.

Logan who, in all the time you had known him, had never stopped fighting. For all of that to be in vain was clawing at him, tearing him down. There was a new age to him, and you weren’t talking about the grey hairs that seeped from his temples. He seemed far too old to still be fighting, to still spend every living moment trying to stay alive, trying to keep those he cared about safe. Everyone had lost so much since the Sentinels appeared.

“How much longer do you think we can stay here?” You asked Storm, gazing out at the sky ahead of you, glancing back towards the jet that was stood on the makeshift runway. She stayed quiet long enough for you to grow concerned and look her way, and you saw the unease to her stance. “We need to leave, don’t we?”

“It’s not safe.” She replied distantly, looking out towards the cloudy sky. Your brows furrowed instantly, and you turned to look at the clouds once more.

“Nowhere is safe, Ororo.” You stated firmly, trying not to let the emotion betray you in your voice. She seemed to come back to herself at your words, and you just about registered her turning to look at you. You hadn’t said anything that she didn’t already know to be true, but still, the delivery of the fact left her with a stinging feeling in her chest. An aching sort of pain, a longing for a home that none of you could ever return to.

She thought of the mansion, and tried to force her way past the memories of it torn apart, destroyed. It was easy to forget, in times like these, exactly how things had been before. But Storm could practically envision it all in her mind, the bustling halls between classes, the crackle of fire as the adults shared a drink after a rough battle, the constant noise of mutants embracing their powers.

That was meant to be a mutant safe haven, and it was gone. She knew you were right — nowhere was safe for your kind, not anymore.

“I know.”

You let her words settle, and chose to linger and look at the view, even as Storm turned and made her way back to the plane.

Admittedly, the view wasn’t much, but it was nice to see the sky without a plane of glass in the way. All of you spent so much time inside the jet now, barely able to land without Sentinels descending upon you. It was somewhat safer in the sky, although there had been some close calls.

The wind whistled in your ears, a welcome breath against your skin, and you easily preferred this to the way it usually whipped against the side of the jet.

You heard the shuffle of feet in your direction before you felt his presence, a warm hand coming to rest on the small of your back. It was soothing, warming you up as you let the cold breeze surround you.

“‘S almost time to go,” Logan told you, speaking quietly. His gruff voice still sent shivers down your spine, despite his warm hand on your back. He turned to look down at you after a second, eyes scanning over the entirety of you, analysing. “You ready?” He asked after another moment, knowing you always tried to take in as much of the fresh air as you could.

“I’ll just be a sec.” You responded calmly, breathing in deeply, finding comfort in the way his palm moved with your body. When he didn’t move, you turned to look at him, finding him still watching you. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but smile at his loving gaze, albeit somewhat weakly. You placed a hand on the side of his face, brows creasing. “Everything okay, Logan?” You asked, concerned, because he seemed off, even though everything in the world was off. It was something more than that.

He nodded as your thumb stroked his cheekbone, trying to provide some amount of comfort in a world where comfort didn’t exist.

“I’ll wait with you.”

You smiled, trailing your hand down from his face until you reached his own palm, which you gripped tightly.

Slowly, you noticed the sun beginning to shine on the horizon. You knew you needed to be gone before it had risen fully. “Don’t worry, I’m right behind you.” You said reassuringly, tilting your head and squeezing his palm tightly at his uncertain look. “Promise.” You added, and he hesitated for a moment longer, before turning away, squeezing your hand once in return before he let it go fully.

He seemed reluctant to leave your side, even as he walked away. You shook your head, grinning softly, glad for the few good things you had left in your life. Logan was everything to you — he had been for more than a few years.

You took one more glance at the rising sun, before turning away, ready to head after Logan. But then your head tilted, brows furrowing in confusion. There was a buzzing feeling in your hands, your heart speeding up its pace, and you looked around in concern.

That was when you saw it — the Sentinel heading straight for the jet on the right.

Ororo was closest, and she hadn’t seen it yet.

“Storm! On your right!” You yelled, desperation leaking into your voice as you watched her spin, finally noticing the murder bot creeping up on her. Even from this distance, you could see the way her eyes went white, lighting up as the wind picked up suddenly, rain slowly starting to leech from the clouds above that were quickly multiplying with the force of Storm’s power.

You couldn’t breathe a sigh of relief as she struck it with lightning, summoning winds to throw it over the edge of the cliff side, because you knew it wasn’t over — more were coming, if they weren’t already here.

Starting towards Logan, you only just registered the way his eyes widened and he moved towards you before it dawned on you.

You hadn’t checked your six.

Before you could even turn, you felt it.

When you looked down, you saw the Sentinel spearing you through the stomach, the wound far too big to comprehend.

Blood was tickling the back of your throat, and you couldn’t even swallow around it. It was too late, you noticed distantly, as you looked towards where Logan was trying to get to you, seeming as though he was moving in slow motion.

The Sentinel ripped its limb from your body, and your knees buckled, sending you to the ground.

It was a very far away realisation, the fact that you would die here, in mere moments. Instead, your main focus was Logan, watching the anguish and denial plaster his face. You barely heard the other Sentinels rising from the cliff side behind you, but you knew they were there.

And you knew that the others knew it too.

Storm had made her way towards Logan, and you hadn’t even noticed how close she was to him before then. She must’ve noticed the Sentinel approaching you at the same time he had. Her face was painted with grief, evident in every crease of her expression, in the very way she moved. She placed her palms against Logan’s chest, and pushed.

“Logan, it’s too late. Please. It’s too late. We need to go.” Ororo begged, her voice shaking with every word that left her mouth. She couldn’t bring herself to look at you, to see the blood that had started trickling from the corners of your mouth, painting your skin. She didn’t want to see the life leave your eyes.

“Logan!” Charles’ voice raised, trying to be heard over Storm’s power. Logan hadn’t even heard his wheelchair in the jet, too focused on the way you looked at him, your eyes dimming with every moment he couldn’t get to you.

He felt Erik before he had even realised the man had descended the ramp, felt the pull of his powers. The way he forced Logan’s skeleton to bend to his will, to step away from you. From the love of his life. The only thing he had managed to keep hold of in this apocalyptic world.

“No, no, no, no,” Logan begged, yelling for you, waiting for you to snap out of it, to just get up. “C’mon! C’mon, get up!” He yelled, trying to push against Erik’s power, but finding he couldn’t even take another step towards you. He felt Storm push harder on his chest, but he didn’t notice, too busy watching the way your head tilted, your eyes glassy, the way your lips lifted at the edges, showing just a flash of bloody teeth. You smiled at him.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Storm said, as Erik finally managed to pull Logan some steps back, going up the ramp.

It was the hardest Logan had ever fought against his power, which made lifting the plane simultaneously all the more difficult. But Erik focused his mind, pulling the plane from the ground as Storm finally released Logan to press the button to lift the ramp.

“She’s gone, Logan.” Charles said sadly, feeling the way your consciousness drifted from his grasp.

Logan just caught the slump of your body to the ground through the swarm of Sentinels as the ramp closed fully. Erik allowed him to fall to his knees when he realised he had stopped fighting, but kept a loose grip on the adamantium in his skeleton out of fear that he might tear apart the plane to get to your body.

A sullen silence took over the jet, everybody resigned to loss by now, but for Logan this was different. He stared at the ramp, unable to get the image of your empty eyes out of his mind. Your body, slumped on the ground, left there to rot.

And all he could think was that if he had only stayed with you, you might still be here. If it weren’t for him, you might be alive.

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timewillpasssoon · 1 year ago

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hiii can you write a joost x female reader angst? they argue, he yells/says some mean stuff but it ends in fluff? 🫶

HOW COULD YOU?

pairing . Joost Klein x fem!reader

content . angst, the dutch in this is from google translate so if its bad lmk, mentions of yelling, insults, stress, alcohol, eurovision disqualification, fluff at the end

summary . when joost urges you to leave the house on a cold night, he starts to regret not opening up to you in the first place.

word count . 1.2k words , 6.5k characters

author's note . quick question, are y'all interested in nsfw? just wondering, if so send some ask.

You and Joost stood in the middle of the living room, tension crackling in the air, geting thicker and thicker as time passes by. His words cut through you like a knife, each one sharper than the last. For the past hour you've been trying to get Joost to eat and open up.. He would turn away and say he's not hungry. He'll say he's not hurting. He lies through his teeth, he was hungry and in pain, desperate need of help. So why doesn't he want it You? You tried to get him to open up to you, but you just couldn't. Everytime an attempt was made, he would slightly raise his voice.

Then finally, he yelled, his voice rising in frustration. Your eyes welled up with tears as you tried to hold back your own anger. "I'm your girlfriend, liefde! I'm here when you need someone to lean on!" You wanted to scream it out, yet it came out as a whisper, your voice cracking with emotion. He scoffed, his anger still beneath the surface.

"Well I don't need you! I am perfectly fine, there is nothing we need to talk about!"

"Can you atleast eat!?"

"For crying out loud I'm not hungry! Just stop being such a bitch."

The argument escalated, each word a dagger aimed at your heart. Joost's voice echoed off the walls, the last word hanging on your brain.

"You just don't get it, do you?" You looked at him in the eyes, rage and empathy were the only two things you could feel. "You clearly are in pain because of the disqualification! Just talk to me- we've been dating for 2 years, for crying out loud! Yet you still can't tell me your problems? Wat een man ben jij." (What a man you are.)

"You can't keep pretending like everything's okay when it's not!" Tears stung your eyes as you struggled to find what words to say.

"I thought we could work through this together." You uttered out, your voice trembling. Joost shook his head. "I don't know if we can," he admitted. He looked down, slowly then turning to the front door. "You should go."

You shake your head, words can't come out your mouth. Your tongue is tied together and you don't know if you can untie it. "Joost- please."

"I said get out. Ik wil je niet zien." (I don't want to see you.)

Your heart was throbbing so fast it felt louder than him,.Joost is staring at the front door then turns to you, red puffy eyes with baby tears coming out from both eyes. His blonde hair was a mess. It was covering most of his eyes but you can still see the pain in them.

"Prima." (Fine.) You take big steps yet they feel like your still miles away from your destination. You go to open the front door, "I hope you come to your senses."

Those were the last words he heard from you. Before you walked out. It's been two hours since you left his house...

and frankly, he's scared. He kicked you out in the middle of the night. It was eight pm when he demanded you to leave and with each second goes by, its past ten.

He calls you, he leaves voicemails, texts messages.

Still nothing. Checked social media and there was still nada.

God he felt awful, the worst boyfriend in the world. All of this happened because he didn't want to cry in your arms. He really did want to let loose, reveal that everything is not okay.

Yet he couldn't.

He didn't want to burden you with his problems anymore. Joost felt like he had too much baggage no one wanted to hear. He thought that everyone wants his happy-go-lucky side. You jusy wanted his true self. The Joost that is willing to tell you his feelings.

He decided to call one of your friends that happened to live by the neighborhood.

"Hello?"

"Is reader with you?"

The other line was quite crispy, Joost can hear a tv in the background, sounded like laughter in the back, maybe a comedy.

"No, why? Is everything alright?"

Joost sighed, fidgeting with a stand of hair. "No, me and her got into a fight and I made her leave- I haven't heard from her!" He exclaimed.

"Woah, woah, deep breaths." The friend on the line said, "Don't you have her location? Check if she's near the area, I'll stay on the line while you do that."

Joost quickly checked his phone to see if you turned off your location. You didn't, you forgot to. "She's in the nearest bar!" The friend hummed. "Go to her, she only drinks when she's stressed the hell out."

"Thank you so much," Joost happened to be crying again, quickly grabbing his keys and jacket. "No problem, get get her." The friend hung up on him as he raced to your location, being around eight minutes away if he ran the whole way.

He bolted as fast as he could, petrified about your safety. Where if you're black out drunk or not.

Pacing to the bar, precious seconds going by, he finally made it. it was one of the least popular bars near so there wasn't any hassle to get in. As he walked inside, he saw a women with the same color hair as you. Your head down on the table with around two shot glasses, there was three more earlier, the bartender just took them.

He sped-walked towards you, careful and still just incase you were still mad at him. He tapped you on your shoulder, but you didn't raise your head up.

"Ik heb een vriendje." (I have a boyfriend.) Was all you said. "I know." Joost calmly answered, his accent triggered you to lift your head up.

"Joost?" He nodded as he sat down next to you, his hand reaching for yours. You didn't push away his hand, as much as you wanted to, you knew he was in pain.

"Why are you here?" You softly say. You'll like to say you ignored him but you couldn't. You were certainly mad at him, but he had his reasons of sheltering himself away. So you listened instead of scolding.

"Reader, I'm so sorry- I didn't want to bother you with my problems. I feel like I just have too much going on for you to care." You felt destroyed at the thought of Joost think you don't care for him. Joost was rubbing circles on your palms.

He continued, "Can we go home, I would rather we talk there."

You smile at the chance of him opening up. You immediately say yes, standing up to leave. All your drinks were already paid for.

As the quiet, yet comfortable, walk back home he held you tight. Clinging onto your left arm for dear life. He still felt guilty for leaving you.

All alone in the streets. You told him it wasn't a big deal, that you could protect yourself. Yet the feeling guilt was still there, on his tongue. The taste was horrid.

Joost unlocked the door, letting you step inside first before closing the door behind him. That's where you engulfed him in a huge hug. Tears coming back for the fourth time.

That night ended with a deep conversation, with cuddles on the couch along with some ice cream half way eaten.

"I appreciate you having the courage to tell me all this."

You muttered your sentence out, about to knock out cold, your body longed for sleep but you kept awake for a bit while.

"I should thank you."

He smiled, tugging you closer to him. You can feel his hot breath breezing though the right side of your neck.

The warmth of each other's bodies made you two warm. You still weren't ready to give up on him.

You'll never give up on him.

LETSGOO FINISHED THIS IN 3 HOURS!! part 2 of let me think... is in the works don't worry, i have two other requests on the way as well.

im okay with nsfw requests, even if its a bit spicy or all the way. check out my other account!!

#joost klein #joost x reader #joost klein x you #joost klein x reader #joost klein fluff #joost klein fanfiction #joost klein fanfic #Joost angst #justice for joost #joost klein x fem reader

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pricegouge · 5 months ago

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assassin anon again! There's a sword 🗡️ emoji. If it's not taken I will have it!

Still obsessed with papochka. Poor daughter!reader who's been raised isolated from pretty much anyone else. Only a nanny/tutor who aren't even around since she's an adult now. She can count on one hand how many times she's seen Nik. She's so sheltered she's afraid to leave home.

She has an accident. Something like falling off her horse or falling down the stairs. Either way she breaks a leg and maybe a wrist or something else.

Nik comes to check on her and she's just instantly attached to him. Super clingy and weepy because she's in pain and her Papochka is finally around taking care of her. And oh man will Nik take care of her. Why not just sleep in his bed with him? That way he can be close by if she needs something. Don't mind if she wakes up to him grinding against her.

*emerges from the google doc like i'm rising from the fucking dead* it's the fact that you have no idea what you did to me when you hit send that keeps killing me lmao.

this screamed princess locked away in a tower vibes to me so i hope you don't mind i made it into an extremely poorly defined medieval/fantasy au and then proceeded to completely out myself as a complete slut for fantasy and spend seven thousand words just having fun with it 🙄

anyway, i imagine nik as some lesser lord. maybe just a landed knight even, granted some run down keep out in the middle of nowhere, plenty of land, as a thank you from his liege lord after an act of valor.

cw: f!reader. incest, skirting awful close with grooming. power imbalance/reader is very sheltered. period appropriate terms for pussy (sorry. i tried to make it as sexy as possible but sometimes it really makes or breaks the scene), virginity kink, multiple orgasms. touch starvation. minor character death, one of which is hinted at foul play but it's only mentioned in one line. please lmk if i missed anything. MDNI

it's easy to get himself a wife once he has a keep, harder to hold her. i can see her fading away after years spent in such isolation, growing more and more melancholy and distant until one day she just. well. the wounds on her wrists, it's hard to imagine such a gentile lady doing something like that, but it must have been what happened? surely?

she never gave him a son, but he's left with the daughter. you're a sweet little gurgling thing he doesn't know what to do with, especially not when duty calls and he's needed elsewhere again. so he gets a handmaid - of sorts. in truth he doesn't quite know what she is, her language one he's not overly familiar with, but she was hard at work in his lord's scullery when he found her and it was a simple matter to ask for another favor, really, even if she wails the whole time.

war's war, a hard thing to pull away from when you've proven yourself as well as nikolai. harder still when your liege is a greedy man. he's rarely home, misses much of your growth. but his travels take him far and wide and he learns to speak the language of the handmaid, a good thing considering it's what you come to speak, his own daughter's tongue foreign to him. so far removed. like your mama, really, but where his wife had faded in isolation, you appear to thrive.

hard to miss something you never had, he supposes, but if that were true, he shouldn't miss you, not when he hardly even knows you, not when you don't even call him papa in the proper language. but he misses you like he misses his hearth - warm embrace and scent of home. he's ashamed to admit it, but it heats his blood some nights, when the loneliness of the road weighs on him. he's only a man and you've grown quick, as far as he can tell. one minute clutching the maid's skirts and the next helping her in the kitchen, grain enmeshed in the coarse weave of your sleeves. you're a lady, of some fashion - at least when compared to how he grew up - but you're content with this simple life, happy with the dirt under your fingernails. and what man could want for more? a simple woman at home to welcome him with soft arms and the scent of bread?

though he does want more for you, wants to spoil you like the proper little lady you are, his printsessa, so graceful, but ladies come with courts, whole teams of servants at your beck and call to feed you properly, brush your hair and bathe you.

stable hands to teach you riding, shoe your horses for you.

more cocks in the roost.

you're the light of his life, his sweet dochka, so he can't be blamed for growing covetous. illiberal. it's unwise, will make you an undesirable match later in life when you can't do the things most ladies are supposed to, but there's nothing for it except to keep you squirreled away at home, no one to talk to besides your sweet maid who keeps you unlearned and simple, helpless even to speak with the rabble when you are permitted to walk to town on your maid's arm.

helpless even to know you need help, until your maid grows too old to take you, too frail to feed herself. nikolai's away for that bit, returns some months later to find you beside yourself, hysterical. stir crazy. he's just grateful the old baba was clever enough to tell you how to dispose of her body - though you didn't do a very good job, the shallow grave you'd dug empty when he finds it under a tree in the east pasture. wolves, likely. he'll have to take care of them before he leaves again.

it ends up being his longest stay at home in nearly twenty years. a good thing, too, because you need the time almost as much as he does, nerves unwinding under his care after so many months alone. you care for him too, when he lets you, singing to him by the fire until he nods off, thoughts too sluggish to keep up with the translation, your strange foreign tales washing over him until it's just sounds, just the lovely lilt of your voice. you're like a little bird. his little bird, so sweet.

he wants to keep you, clip your feathers, but he can't maintain them from half across the kingdom and there's no one at home to do it for him, so he has to trust you - for now.

the horse frightens you, and he tells you it well should, though it's no destrier, the gentle palfrey shirking from his own mount with flared nostrils and agitated huffs. she's a docile little thing usually, barely even knows how to canter. he teaches you how to take care of her and you pout about the added chores, but there's no denying the excitement he sees in your eyes when you realize the autonomy he's given you. he dampens it with a word of caution.

"remember, radnaja, town holds no friends for you. without your maid, no one will understand you, and an unchaperoned lady will draw many an unwanted glance. you must only travel in the event of an emergency."

there's more peeping, some half-hearted arguments. he doesn't know how the commoners have received you in the past, but you give in easily enough so it can't be a great loss. at least, not enough to outweigh your eagerness to please him, thinking it will make him stay.

you've only just settled when the next call to arms comes and he has to listen to you weep all night, keeping him awake when he really needs the rest. there's no soothing you, no matter how many times he reiterates that you'll be okay, that he's fixed everything, set you up with a year's worth of grains and root veggies in the cellar, and deliveries of cured meats. you know how to milk the goats, how to slit their kids' throats come winter. he doesn't understand why you're so upset, but then, he didn't understand your mother either.

he starts to, though, in the long months that follow; the loneliness that eats at him. at night he hears the trill of your voice in his ear, feels your plush hips in his palms, your weight familiar after too many times helping you onto your horse. he's not a good man, nor a proud one. after long days of trudging and battle, he doesn't fight it - succumbs to the quickest, easiest fantasy; more fleshed out now than ever before. the little woman he's got at home. it's like fuel within him, a flame that only gets hotter the longer it burns. he stokes it daily and it feeds him in turn, makes him bloodthirsty, efficient. there's talk of granting him a larger keep by the end of it.

lace, silks. he pictures you in dresses that tie in the back, maids swarming around you like gnats to keep you primped and pretty. he'd swat them away and lace you up himself if he had his way, grunting with how tightly he pulls your stays. in his thoughts you're already a proper lady, one of those simpering little helpless things who gather around to welcome the lords home. he dreams of seeing you waiting for him at the field gate as he rides home, hair all plated and pretty. like church bells, calling him home, hastening his trip. sometimes he even sleeps in the saddle, the leagues flying underfoot. he's never been this eager to be home, but the years add up; and he aches, just wants to hear you sing to him, too see if you'll be good to your papa and rub his sore knee.

perhaps that's why he doesn't notice the horse at first.

he'd crossed the border onto his own land some miles back, driving his heel hard into the flank of his mount. pines whip past in an endless sea, but he knows the path well, a game trail he himself has carved. his horse notices the other before he does, slowing to a trot and trumpeting. odd. a hardened beast, the destrier did not often feint, but nikolai spots the issue after a quick glance around.

poor creature, eager at the first sight of tail. must be as hard up as him.

dismounting, nikolai tuts to see your reins untethered and calls for you, voice stern as he begins his lecture about the importance of hobbling your mount.

but you never come. not so much as a twig snaps in answer, his own echo all that greets him.

he doesn't panic. not yet. he ties your horse to his own and sets off again, pace much slower for the benefit of your fat little palfrey, keeping his ears strained as he continues to call for you.

your horse's trail is easy to follow, the soft old girl having eaten her way across the fields. the worry sets in the more the path winds, long miles looping over his acreage. aimless. where were you while your sweet little beast was roaming?

he finds you as the sun sets, weather beaten and weary. you can't put weight on your leg and you yelp when he tries to pull you up with a steady grip on your upper arm, but your voice is too creaky to explain why, face twisting in pain with tears that don't fall - the streaks down your pretty face long dried. you shriek when he throws you over your horse's back, though, screams raw and jagged as he rides hard for home.

the first night is the hardest, long hours spent fighting his own exhaustion as he tries to ply you with much needed food and water. you can't move from the bed, can't help yourself even enough to hold the spoon of broth, and he can see why in the mottling on your chest when your smock falls loose enough to show where the delicate bone there should arch. you scream when he hitches your skirts up, his hands too heavy against the deep bruising which runs high on your thigh, perfect ring of a hoofmark dotting dangerously close to your hip.

he's seen men die of complications from such wounds, knows how close you came to the death sentence that is a broken hip.

you try to follow him in the morning, too delirious to understand that he needs to fetch a physician. he ends up having to tie you to the bed, a poor attempt to keep you from injuring yourself further. he leaves you with water and soup, one hand left untied so you could reach it, while the other was bound to your chest, keeping your arm in place. in theory, you could untie yourself, though the knots are so tightly bound he doesn't have to worry. still, when he returns he finds your nails frayed and bloody, the jute rope on its last thread.

they cannot tell if your leg is broken, keep prodding at it with bony old gnarled fingers which he thinks about snapping, if only to remind them what they're looking for. the process makes you sob and shake and cling, your one good arm reaching back to hold him close as the other remains bound to your chest. he sits flush behind you the whole while, cradling you between his thighs. holding the wood they place between your teeth in place, he rocks you whenever able. a pathetic attempt to soothe. and he blames the tears that stain his cheeks on you. transfer from how tightly he holds you, surely.

you sleep after they leave, the tincture they'd given leaving you pliant and soft. even still you cling to him when he settles beside you, careful of the sling that holds you together. he should give you space, let you sleep, but the thought leaves his limbs leaded, too heavy to abide when he tries to pull away. he squired as a boy. they said it was an honor for one so base-born, but he knows now it was only a testament to his size, his strength. even then there was no hiding it, plucked from the village by a passing lord who knew a weapon when he saw one, dressed it up as an honor. he'd play at knighthood when his master was otherwise occupied, stealing away with bits of armor and swords. the first time he'd donned mail, it had nearly made him buckle under the burden, his body unused to the weight. he feels like that now. untried.

you gurgle when he peppers kisses along your hairline. he'd left you completely alone, unwatched. unguarded. he's lucky to have found you alive at all. if he'd been longer in coming, if he'd died in the cause -.

you cuddle closer, snuffling after more kisses. it eases something in his chest, some tightly wound spring he's unaccustomed to feeling, here in the safety of his own home. his next kiss lands lower, the bridge of your nose, then another high on your cheek. your lips part, a soft sound calling to him and he melts into you as much as he can without causing further harm, lips soft against your own.

his sweet, little bird. clipped wing, still singing.

—

thoughts come wispy, barely connected. spiderweb threads which weave in and out of consciousness. there's pain still, but it's lesser somehow. dulled around the edges. you vaguely remember being fed some sticky solution, the bite of it as it slipped down your throat. it had reminded you of the grain alcohol your father sometimes brought home, the stuff you would sneak sips of after he'd started snoring in his chair. it left you loose the same way. easy, passive.

but this didn't help the ache in that same way, the hollow chasm in your chest you've lived with ever since nana passed. it yawns now, needy and desperate. you whimper as you roll, searching, expecting nothing -

and find the warm musculature of another body.

despite your wishes, it's hard to resist the urge to spring up, shrieking, but you manage. instead you turn slowly, fearfully, and nearly sob in relief at the sight of your father's sleeping moue. it's strange, how quickly the lingering effects of your medicine seem to clear. physically, you remain languid, but you've not felt more alert since his last visit, the first time you sat astride your pretty pony and felt for the first time, some modicum of control. this is different, but the effect is the same, leaves your very veins singing with excitement, the tallest tree in the forest, recently struck from the heavens and burning from the inside. you want to consume him with yourself, divine retribution for leaving you alone. more so, you want him to already be with you - an owl at home in the hollowed knot of your chest when you were engulfed.

but he sleeps too peacefully, strong brow obscured by the strands of hair which have escaped his severe style. thick arms encase you, heavy in rest. comforting. you enjoy it as long as he lets you, fingers growing bolder as the morning stretches on, tracing up over his furry forearm, smoothing the folds of his shirt where it rides up to his elbow. he doesn't stink like you'd expect, melt water crisp. he must have washed the filth of the road off while you'd slept, and you can't help but luxuriate in it, craning your neck up to nudge against his throat until he grumbles and snuggles deeper, returning the favor. you play with the thick, gold chain he wears and lay it flat as you can manage against his broad chest, intimate your knuckles with the coarse stubble of his jaw. he wakes when you push his hair back into place, catching your wrist in his big paw so quickly that it makes you jump, crying out when the sharp pain cuts through your hunger.

his grip turns soothing instantly, "shh, shh, malýshka, settle."

"you scared me," you pout, and then pout some more when he levels you with a warning look, rather unearned.

"and you scared me," he counters, kissing the inside of your wrist. his lips are hot against your skin, a relief from the chill of the early spring air. you tuck it back under the blanket when he releases you, the heat built under the cover more than enough to keep you warm; although you realize as your palm settles over the rough spun linen that you've been stripped to your chemise and briefly marvel at that possibility. he emits heat like the hearth, fresh fed. mornings are usually a frigid affair, the coals having guttered, leaving you shivering. but in your father's arms you are content. lazy. happy to sink your fingers into the fur of his belly where his shirt rides up and stave off the frost.

until he tries to squirm away.

"father, please," you whine, grasping for him.

slumping back beside you, he groans, hand over his eyes as if he can't even look at you. "i'll not go far, radnaja."

"just another moment, please? you're so warm."

he grunts when you try to wriggle closer, heavy hand falling on your belly. "and you're needy."

unfair, all things considered, but you don't think it's worth mentioning as much, so you settle for reminding him you're hurt.

"and last time i was home, hm? were you hurt then as well?"

teasing, but you don't find it so funny. "can a heart not hurt?"

he doesn't seem to know what to say to that, instead huffs once more, breath warm against your face, and rolls away, slipping your grasp easily. his tunic is loose, untied at the collar. you've never noticed how hairy he is, pelt a deep contrast to the chain. it's good work, you think - not that you're overly familiar with the intricacies of fine metalcraft, but you've never seen anything like it, thick links so packed and tight it more closely resembled his mail than a proper piece of jewelry. you wondered where he'd acquired it, knew full well the smithy in town could never manage such finery. it was hard not to be a bit jealous, though the nature of it surprised you.

in all your nana's stories, such gifts were only given by loved ones.

~~~

he cooks potatoes and rashers of ham for breakfast. fresh ham, must've brought it with him when he returned. you lay on the bed and salivate, fingers itching. restless and impatient by turns. your nana would have taken a switch to your knuckles if she found you abed while your father cooked, but he seems unbothered by the work, if unpracticed. he lingers when he brings your plate, torn. you try to scoot up the cot to give him space, imply invitation, but he turns away when he sees you wince with the movement, settling at the table where the cold spring light is transmuted, glowing golden as it filters through the horn slats which pane the windows.

your nana's stories have never mentioned beautiful men, at least none like him - burly, old; more bear than man. you've no way with words, but you think you could write new stories, better, paint his hard, weathered body in a kinder light. if only he'd sit still.

"if you leave again, i'll die."

chewing, he eyes you over, the bulky shape of your awkward arm visible through the woolen blanket. that is not what to what you refer. "da. appears you are stuck with me for a while."

there's no hiding the excitement in your voice, not that you're socialized enough to know you should try. "you'll stay?"

another bite, fatty slice. he tears at it like a stray dog, tendons of his neck flexing as he works the piece between sharp teeth. "no choice."

it's not quite what you want to hear, but it soothes you nonetheless, a soft counterpoint to the ache that's slowly rebuilding in your leg. "what will you do if you're summoned again?"

he just shrugs, imparts some saying in his language, no doubt wise. "tell them to 'piss off,' i suppose."

"and after? when i'm healed?" if you heal.

blunt fingers drum on the table. he eyes you like a problem to be solved. "after, i leave."

he's unexpectedly sympathetic when you cry, cooing as he crawls onto the bed beside you. he speaks words that sound reassuring, but they aren't all in your shared tongue and you can only sniffle, holding onto him for all you're worth. you tell him you don't want him to leave, but he just nods, curling around you as best he can. you don't tell him that he jostles you too much, keep your grimace under tight control, the ache of the movement worth the comfort of his care.

despite the pain, you gather you can't have broken your leg when he lifts them gingerly, folds his own up under yours until the tops of his thighs rest under your rump. he's still gentle when he lowers you legs overtop his own, palm heavy and warm he slides it up your tender leg to palm at your hip, drag you closer into the wall of his chest. he's on your good side, knows it; pulls you so close your shoulder gets wedged into your side, pushing your breasts together. you brace his chest instinctively with the fingers of your uselessly bound arm when he leans over you, lips chapped and hot against your hairline as he keeps murmuring, language a tangled knot you can't unwind.

it's not what you're focused on, regardless.

your father is a large man, large enough that he'd single handedly skewed your perception of how a man should look. it wasn't until you were grown, standing next to the blacksmith while he fashioned some lock for nana that you'd realized it. the largest man in town, and you still came up to his chin - though he was admittedly slightly broader than your father. you'd come to appreciate your father's stature on his last visit, the ease with which he'd help lift you into your saddle, the way his height loomed over you making you feel safe, secure. here, now, his broad chest blocking out the room as he leans over you, heavy weight braced on an arm which flexes deliciously as he ducks to peck kisses across your face, you feel a little faint, the ghost of his hands on your hips making you ache to your core - that hollow pit, low in your belly, an emptiness that surpassed hunger, rivaled even that loneliness that's made a home in your chest.

it would eat you soon, if not fed.

"father, please. it hurts," you warble like a baby bird, maw agape. expectant.

he doesn't feed you, eats from you, instead. takes more, mouth hot and open against your own. you wonder if he's just as hollow. "i know, devochka, but you'll be better soon, hm? just need to let your papa take care of you, yes? need -."

"no." you whine when he pulls away, chase his lips as he sits back above you, out of reach. you forget to elaborate until he arches a brow at you, waiting. "not that… not there. here."

desideration has weight, caves your tummy when his eyes follow the path of your good hand low into the cradle of where he's got your legs hitched. he leans back further, bears his weight full on his side so his big paw can climb over the hills of your body, slip south like so many raids. when he presses, applies force, the sharpness of your hunger shocks you, breath going ragged. it draws his attention, dark eyes snapping up to your face so he can track how your lips part when he does it again, the way your eyes go slightly unfocused. it's strange, how he can stoke the fire within you while somehow also making you feel as close to quenched as you ever have.

it scares you. "should you get the doctor again?" something perilously close to anger curls his lip, sets you floundering beneath him, afraid to have disappointed. "sorry, it's only -."

"i have you, malýshka. papa will make it better."

this time when he lowers himself over you, he lets you take his weight, hand staying put on your belly. his other arm curls under your neck, props you up so he can return to his biting kisses, the ones that let him drink soft noises from your lips and feed you with his heavy huffs. you've never kissed like this before, his quick pecks normally placed on the corner of your mouth, or the divot above your lips. nana only ever kissed your cheeks, sweet things which had unfortunately grown sloppy with her age, often left you amused, if mildly disgusted. these are sloppy kisses too, his tongue hot and wet as it slips over your teeth. you imagine biting into it, an undercooked slice of meat, the hot flow of his lifesblood over your jowls. when your stomach flips, it is not with disgust.

you don't realize he's worked your skirt up over your hips with slow, clutching fingers until you feel them on your skin, calloused and warm above the thatch of hair that covers your woman's place. "father?" you whine and he tsks at you, tongue very nearly clicking on your own teeth with how close he stays.

"call me papa, radnaja. about time you learned to speak proper."

it feels good on your tongue, the soft pops as your lips brush against his. must sound good to him as well, for he doesn't wait to hear your question once you've spoken it, mouth returning to yours with a renewed hunger.

"papa, please, what are you -?"

his fingers are too rough when he hikes your good leg further over his hip, baring your flower. you yelp but he just eats that, too, breath turning ragged as it fans across your lips when his palm returns to cup your woman's place. even grabbing his wrist does no good, your fingers like brittle little branches which he shakes off with ease.

"told you, malýshka. papa's gonna make it better, hm? know what you need."

"but nana said not to touch there, not when i'm hungry."

you worry you've misspoken when he leans away from you, brow knitted. "hungry?"

"when i'm empty -," you start, try again more confidently when you wrangle his hand back up to that achy spot, low in your tummy. "when it hurts."

embarrassment blooms as he releases a shaky laugh, palm splayed wide over your belly. you try to wriggle from under him, but the arm tucked beneath your neck pulls you back, bicep bulging as he keeps you in place with a quiet shh. "your nana was right, dochka, and what a good girl you've been to have listened. but do you know why she said not to touch?" he shakes his head when you do, vaguely patronizing. "of course not, milaya, tak khorosho. she was protecting your maidenhead. do you know what that is?" this time when you shake your head, you're rewarded with a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth, his hand pressing against your belly until you squirm again. "that's your gift, sweet girl. for your husband. but until you give it to him, do you know who it belongs to?"

you've never noticed how dark his eyes are, almost black. his grin is vicious when you shake your head again.

"to your papa, glupaya devchonka, so i'll touch you there if i please."

this time it's your head that follows after his, bobbing along absently as he nods encouragingly. your hand covers his as best it can, pushes it down toward the apex of your thighs - your gift. he said he knew what to do and you're eager, the ache worse than ever.

"that's right, little one. i've got you. papa will make it better, hm? fill you up." that last is a growl against your lips. a threat. he hikes your leg impossibly higher and tells you to hold it there, hip aching slightly. it's like he knows, thumb digging cruelly into the taut tendon that stems from your core as he palms one of your cheeks and spreads you for his inspection, fingers slotting embarrassingly along your seam. but he seems unbothered, and you suppress the whine that builds in your chest, heat flushing up your neck.

"ty by posmotrel na eto…" feather light, calloused pads trail up and over your flower. "such a pretty little thing."

your stomach leaps, his compliments far too rare. "th- thank you, papa."

dipping further, he sighs when he finds your dew hidden amongst your petals. "ought to thank you," he mutters, then steals your breath with another kiss, swallowing your gasp as his fingers pull up, brush over something which makes you jolt so hard your chest aches.

"wha - what -?"

he just coos. "shshsh. have to be still, malýshka. don't want you getting hurt again."

it seems inevitable. the whole process - too big, too much.

he's going to leave again.

"papa, please…"

"i know, i'll help." and maybe he does, in a way, but he's only ever made things worse, too; so when he works you over, panting heavily against your cheek as his fingers stroke that hard pearl he's found until you're a writhing mess he has to lean on to keep still, you aren't surprised when the tears fall, overwhelmed and scared. he kisses them away, touch still wringing slow, lazy shudders from you until your breath comes ragged, stomach heaving with toomuchsomuchnotenoughstillnotfull.

he waits until you're hiccupping to fold your knee up to your chest, hips hitching impossibly closer under yours. his breeches are roughspun, the suede placket soaked and sticky when it slots up under your cunt. embarrassment cuts through the haze of your pleasure when you realize it's your own juices, tips you over that edge of panic you'd been riding.

must be, he doesn't care. he calls you 'milaya,' asks if you can take more. you shake your head and he just huffs in amusement, hand already reaching past your cunt to unfasten his stays.

"father, no!" you shriek, pushing at his chest as much as you're able. he ignores you until you slip your bad leg off his own, trying to pull away despite the pain.

"ostorozhnyy!" he barks, settling you back into place. "where do you think you're going?"

nonsensically, you sob, "nowhere!"

"certainly seemed like -."

"i don't want you to go!"

you know little of battle, experience limited to the tales your nana would tell, and those more focused on the outcome than the practice. still, you're reminded of a bow when he stalls, tension in his poise, drawn tight. he looms over you, impossibly big. blocks out everything else, no getting past him. "radnaja," he hedges and your neck creaks with how quickly you turn away from him, try to hide your face in your broken shoulder. of course, he follows, elbow cracking when it catches his weight so he can lean over you, press his nose hard into your cheek. "milaya, look at me. look." his fingers are soft against your jaw, turning you back towards him with the utmost care. "i'll not leave you again. where i go, you follow, hm?"

unable to meet his eyes, your voice aches as it rips through your raw throat. "you promise?"

he doesn't, not until you look at him properly and he's rewarded you with a kiss between the eyes. but he repeats it when his manhood strokes your petals, uses it to settle you like one would a horse, voice low and soft, a constant murmur used to ground you as he carves a place for himself, kissing away the tears that come when the tight pinch finally gives.

it's a litany, his own hymn to counter the prayer he pulls from you. he's gentle, despite the way his chest heaves. you're reminded of how he trains sometimes, alone and shirtless in the yard. he laughs when you yank at his tunic, and nods, sitting up enough to pull it over his head in one fluid motion. when he settles, he's lower, face level with your chest. it allows him to sit deeper within you, fill you properly, as he said. his promises finally peter out when he draws your first breathy gasp, different now from the pained noises you'd been letting slip. his hand follows yours when it flutters from his hip, falls to that achy spot.

"still hurt, malýshka?" he looks just as hungry as you, just as consumed. when words fail you, he drags his hand up your chest and splits the panels of your chemise, exposing your chest as best he can despite your sling and groans when he finds your nipples pebbled.

first one, then the other, he inspects each breast with roughened hands, wide palms molding over them, fingers pinching until you whine. he soothes the ache with his rough tongue, lowering his head until he can pull the closest breast into his mouth, jaw hinged wide as if he wished to swallow you whole. his mouth is hot, wet. he suckles, drawing tenderness to the surface which he extorts with teeth and tongue, an alternating attack with no rhythm and no way to prepare yourself. you'd never known your chest could feel like this. you'd never known you could feel like this, hot all over yet shivering as if spring had receded, ebbed until the frozen tundra of winter battered the keep walls. chasing the feeling, you try to mimic his movement, rocking your hips down against his own and snaking your good hand up your chest, managing to worm your fingers under your sling before he snags your wrist and scolds you.

"can't have you hurting yourself more, radnaja. have to be careful."

"but i -?"

"i know. feels good, hm? but it will feel better here," he assures, dragging your hand back down, low - lower, until your fingers frame that pearl of flesh he'd found before. "remember how papa did it? show me what you've learned."

not much, it seems. you're uncoordinated, sloppy, too overwhelmed to find a proper rhythm. it's more intense with him inside you, causes you to flinch away from your own touch. you get distracted, too, reach past your pearl to spread your petals and frame where he's speared you. your fingers come away sticky and slick and you seize around him when you find blood.

you're not sure where it comes from. some long dead instinct, unearthed by fear and the novelty of his comforting presence. you call him papochka in a quavering voice and he makes a sound like he's wounded, reaching blindly for your hand to lick off the blood between broken fragments of sentences, odd threads of your combined languages twining into some semblance of a blanket he uses to soothe you. you think you hear something about your gift, that it just means you've been good for him. you don't catch much beyond that, thoughts whiting out as his own fingers return to your core. there's no flinching away from him.

he's not as cruel this time, lets you wind down without any interruption beyond the way he hikes back up your frame, cock slipping free so he can press open mouth kisses to your cheek. he's still talking, grasp of english steadier now. just needed papa to do it. can't even do it yourself, can you? papochka's got you, don't worry.

but he moves despite his words, letting your leg slip from the cradle of his elbow as he gets his knees under himself and straddles your sore leg. he's careful not to put any weight on it, instead leaning on the back of your other thigh until it folds back up toward your side, same as before.

"is this good, milaya? does it hurt?"

you shake your head adamantly. "no, papa. i'm fine."

he calls you a good girl, but you whine anyway when he tells you you're going to give him one more. he hushes you even as he pushes back in, his head falling back with a groan as this new position finally allows him to sink all the way to the root, and you know instantly why this last turn was necessary, that tight knot in your belly winding impossibly tighter.

as if he knows too, his palm splays over your belly again, fingers digging into your soft flesh. "gonna fill you up, printsessa. just like you wanted. ready?"

the term leaves you breathless, not having heard it since you were little, perched on his knee. technically, you don't know what it means, but it's similar enough to your own language that you don't need his translation, and it leaves you feeling just as spoiled and loved as it always has. you nod, and nearly get shuttled up the bed with how hard he thrusts into you. he murmurs something you don't catch, hand wrapping around your leg to keep you in place. when he begins to move again, it's much slower, a deep grind that has your jaw working uselessly.

papa groans. "not even going to fucking need it, am i? feels that good?"

you don't really know what he's asking, just bob your head along as his thrusts rock you minutely.

"use your words, malýshka."

and you would, if you were capable of them, but he's not fighting fair, making you desperate with shallow little grinds, keeping that word locked back up behind his sharp teeth. hair has fallen into his face, loose strands which cling to his temples and hang over his eyes. it does not obscure the hunger there.

"yes, papochka."

it's not clear how he manages to keep himself restrained. not when he growls like an animal, grips your thigh with bruising force. but his thrusts are languid, deep, and his other hand is gentle when it cradles the base of your skull, thumb keeping your jaw tilted high so he can see how your throat works hard for each breath. he complicates the process further by leaning over you, slotting his lips with yours so he can swallow each noise he pulls, licking along your teeth with enough force you're worried you taste blood.

or maybe it's just the remnants of your gift.

no man would want you now, not even if your father managed to pull together a decent dowry. you'd be stuck with him forever, stuck in this dilapidated keep while he -.

he must feel the panic in your pulse. "promise, printsessa."

this time it works, the knot wrapping so tight it snaps, a taut chain that lets you fall when it gives, leaves you to clatter to the ground, stiff and fragile, until your father scoops up the pieces, collects you in strong arms as he finishes, fills you up just like he promised, buried so deep inside that you know you'll always feel it.

it's then you find he burns, too, his seed so hot within you that you imagine it would sear if not for how tempered you are to your own fire. you gutter out together, the bellows of his breaths too strong to keep you kindling. it's sweltering beneath him, the sweat of his back steaming in the crisp morning air. he kisses you when he's caught his breath, heedless of the fact you hadn't yet. your protests get swallowed up, same as the unadlylike grunt you emit when he slips out. he pulls away at that, seemingly just to laugh at the displeased look on your face when, for one mortifying moment, you think you've started your moonblood and you scramble to see.

a wide palm on your good shoulder stops you, keeps you in place. "you're okay, printsessa. i've got it. stay put."

his joints creak when he climbs from the bed and you're distracted from the shock of cold air by the vision he makes, all heavy muscles and dark, wiry hair. he'd brought home a bear skin once, many years ago. it still warmed your bed upstairs, though you liked this bear better. this bed.

when he returns, papa wipes a cold, wet cloth over your woman's place, coos when you jolt in discomfort. he places a kiss there when he's done and scolds you for trying to squirm away. as if you're the improper one.

you get tucked up next to him again once he's decided you're clean enough and you luxuriate in his embrace for as long as he allows, too afraid to ask any of the questions running through your head lest he get annoyed, change his mind, decide he needs to leave right then, actually, or -.

he kisses the crown of your head. heavy, lingering. you feel his lips move against your scalp when he speaks. "i'm expecting to be rewarded with a better keep soon. further south."

worry sinks like a stone to the pit of your stomach, tears a hole through the bottom, creates an endless chasm in your bowels you will never fill, not even if you lived to the end of time. papa does his best to soothe the worry by tilting your chin up, kissing you softly on the lips. he retreats to peer at you when he finds you lifeless and stiff in his arms and sighs heavily, almost fondly.

"you'll be coming with me, radnaja."

"really!?" you're not sure you've ever heard your voice so elated, a childishness to your tone that leaves you embarrassed, cheeks heated.

papa only laughs. "promised, didn't i?"

"well, yes, but -."

"you'll be my little printsessa, my proper lady. moya zhena, my wife. would you like that?"

there's no helping the way your eyes widen in wonder. "your wife? how?"

"it's not unusual for a man to take a wife while off fighting. a matter of honor, if she's got a little malýshka of her own." his hand finds your belly again, rubs proprietarily heavy circles there. "no one need know where i found you, only that it did. and it would be an easy ruse, what with your broken russian."

ordinarily, the thought of having disappointed him with your foreign language would make you flinch, but you're too caught up in the picture he paints, the pair of you dressed in modest finery as he leads you around some pretty new home, you dangling from his arm. "but what of me? your daughter? surly people will wonder?"

he just tuts, faux serious. "well you can imagine my heartache, returning to an empty home. that shallow grave out in the east pasture. no wonder the baba fled, probably thought i'd blame her for my daughter's death. a widower, no children. who could blame me for finding a pretty little thing to take south with me?"

divider by @/adornedwithlight

#gouge answers #incest cw #papochka #🗡️ anon #nik cod x reader #nikolai cod x reader #daddaughter

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particular-one · 2 years ago

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we would’ve been timeless.

synopsis. how they would react and cope after you left their lives. characters. jing yuan, dan heng, blade, gepard x gn!reader (separate) author's note. congrats, you have made it to the vault (carlyle's version). due to the 1.2 update i will not shut up about hsr and speak now tv. sorry if this was short, the writer's block is still kinda there. lmk if u want any other character!

jing yuan would be a bit more dignified about losing you. after all, after everything he has witnessed in his long, long life, he knew that it would only be inevitable that he would lose you, too. but for the amount of loss that he has experienced, it did not make it any easier for him to cope. your presence always made everything just a tad bit bearable and he missed that sorely. on the outside, jing yuan would make sure that he would seem fine, greeting everyone warmly and nodding to their consolations, but the moment the public's eyes are off him, he'd be devoid of any emotion. you had always likened jing yuan to the sun, he'd remember, before you went on a tangent about his eyes again, but the true sun in his life was you. and you were gone.

dan heng would immediately blame himself. no matter the circumstance, he'd chalk it up to the karma of being with someone like him. it was apparent how much happier you made him when you were together — the astral express would always comment how he seemed to glow around you despite the neutral expression he always wore — that everything just turned dead when you were gone. at least, that's how it was like for him. no more of indulging in the silly romantic antics that you'd drag him in — oh, how he'd give anything for one last adventure with you. dan heng would spend most of his time locked in the archives after this, his mind awake and going over every tender memory you shared with him. his most favorite one was when you sung to him; now, it'd be the only voice haunting him before he fell into the deepest slumber.

blade would not believe it first. you made a promise to him that you would stay with him, no matter how long it takes. you promised that to him, and he does not take the promise of forever lightly. when the undeniable is presented to him, blade would lose control over the overflowing emotion in him. he's in despair, he's seething in anger, he's breaking down in labored cries, even kafka does not want to be around him when he'd be experiencing all these at once. he'd curse his immortality again over and over, wishing that the universe would finally grant him his wish to die, because all he wants now is to be reunited in your arms, your hand gently stroking his hair and your voice whispering to him that you were there and you were fine. he would swear to never love again, not like how he loved you.

gepard would break down at the news. rightfully, it was unbecoming of the captain to react in such a public manner, but he did not care. you had always made sure he was taking care of himself, that he'd just condemn himself for losing the best thing that ever happened to him. he'd work thrice as hard and sink himself deeper into his duties afterwards. as you were no longer there to chastise him for overworking himself to the bone, gepard would be prone to collapsing every time he pushed himself too hard. even when serval would call him out on this self destructive behavior, he wouldn't listen. some nights, he'd swear that he, delirious and sleep deprived, sees you standing right next to him, a frown on your face as he stayed up all night to finish the documents. "don't look at me like that" he'd say, but how he would wish for you to say something to reprimand and snap him out of it.

written by carlyle (@particular-one) copyright: all content belongs to particular-one on tumblr (2023)

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mikeysonly · 2 months ago

Text

White Lies Part 3 - Nagi Seishiro

♡ hiii lovelies, i'm gonna make this a 5 part series so please expect 2 more updates hehe. the next one is gonna finish up this story and the 5th part is going to be a little spinoff. lmk if you want to be in my taglist!!! mwah, happy reading my loves.

♡♡♡

part 1

part 2

♡♡♡

Nagi stood in front of Y/N’s apartment door, staring at it. He had been standing there for about 3 minutes now, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets, He had to knock, he promised.

It was… weird.

His whole life, always choosing the easiest path. But this? This was actually hard.

Still.

He had said he’d come, and regardless of anything, he stuck to his word. Well, most of the time.

So, with a sigh, he raised his hand and knocked.

It took a moment but the door swung open, almost knocking the wind out of him.

Haruto was standing at the door, looking up at the man who looked eerily similar to him. "You came."

Nagi scratched his neck. "Yeah."

"Come in!" Haruto grabbed his sleeve and started pulling him inside.

“You actually showed up.” Y/N said with a hint of surprise in her voice. "Haruto you know how I feel about you opening the door."

Haruto didn't react, he just sat down and patted the seat next to him.

Nagi plopped down onto the couch, stretching his long legs out. "Told you I would."

Y/N rolled her eyes.

Haruto climbed onto the couch next to him, bouncing slightly. "Wanna play a game?"

Nagi glanced at the console hooked up to the TV. "You any good?"

Haruto puffed up his chest. "I'm okay."

That was a lie. He sucked.

Nagi found out pretty quickly that Haruto had zero game sense, constantly walking off cliffs, missing easy shots, and button mashing his way through fights.

"You’re really bad at this," Nagi muttered, watching Haruto's character fall into a pit for the third time.

Haruto pouted. “I’ll get better!”

Something about the way he said it though. So determined, so confident, made Nagi pause.

He thought about himself as a kid. How he hated effort, how he never pushed himself unless someone else made him, and even then it was difficult for him to try.

Haruto was different.

Maybe he was lazy like Nagi, but… he tried.

Nagi wasn’t sure why that made his chest feel tight.

Before he could think too much about it, Haruto suddenly turned to him.

"Hey, Nagi."

"Hm?"

Haruto tilted his head. "Are you my dad?"

Nagi's entire world paused.

Nagi blinked, his grip on the controller going slack. Hands sweating.

Y/N, who had been listening from the kitchen, froze.

Haruto was staring up at him, waiting. Not impatient, not scared, just… curious.

And Nagi? He had no idea what to say.

Y/N must have noticed his hesitation, because she took a careful step forward. “Haruto, I-”

"Yeah."

Y/N inhaled sharply. Haruto’s eyes widened slightly.

Nagi just stared.

“…Guess I am.”

Haruto blinked at him. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a small smile.

“…Cool.”

And just like that, he went back to his game, as if nothing had happened.

Nagi exhaled. That was… really easy.

Y/N, on the other hand, was still staring at him like he had just killed someone.

“…You didn’t have to answer that question you know,” she murmured.

Nagi tilted his head, glancing at her lazily. "Why not? It's true."

Y/N swallowed, looking down. "I don't know, Nagi… Are you even ready for this?"

Nagi stretched his arms over his head. “I dunno if I’m ready or not. But…” He glanced at Haruto, watching him fail another level. “I’m here.”

It was the simplest answer he could give. The only one that mattered.

Y/N’s eyes softened.

Haruto yawned suddenly, rubbing at his eyes.

"I think someone's ready for bed," Y/N said, walking over.

Haruto groaned but didn’t fight it, letting her take the controller and nudge him toward his room.

Nagi watched them go, his body finally relaxing. Today wasn’t so bad.

When Y/N returned, she stood by the couch, hesitating. "Do you wanna stay for a bit? Or…-"

"Mm." Nagi nodded, patting the open space next to him.

Y/N raised an eyebrow but sat down.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Nagi stared at the ceiling. Y/N stared at him.

"…You're really staying," she murmured.

Nagi hummed. "Told you."

She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “My bad for not believing you.”

A comfortable silence settled over them.

Then, Y/N sighed, resting her head against the couch. “…Thank you.”

Nagi turned his head slightly. "For what?"

She looked at him then. Her expression was unreadable.

“For this.” Her voice was quiet. It was honest. “For being here.”

Nagi blinked.

That weird feeling in his chest was back again. But he didn’t hate it.

“…’s nothing,” he muttered.

Y/N shook her head. “It’s not nothing.”

She reached out then, her fingers brushing against his hand on the couch. It was small. A light touch. But it made Nagi’s breath slow.

He could have pulled away.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he tilted his head slightly, watching her, noticing how she was closer now, how she was still looking at him. It made him feel like a teenager again.

And then, before he could think about it too hard, he leaned in.

It was barely anything, a soft, lingering kiss, slow and warm.

When they pulled away, Y/N smiled, looking almost dazed.

“…You’re full of surprises today.”

Nagi shrugged, already leaning his head back against the couch. "Mm."

Y/N giggled, little did Nagi know she felt like a teenager again too.

They had just reconnected, but somehow, things felt like they never changed at all.

“…You’re gonna be around, right?” she murmured after a while, voice quiet.

Nagi sighed, tilting his head toward her but keeping his eyes on the ceiling. “Dunno.”

Y/N stiffened slightly, but before she could say anything, he added, “But I don’t really feel like leaving.”

She blinked, glancing at him, lips parting slightly like she hadn’t expected that answer.

Nagi finally turned his head, meeting her gaze. They stared for a little while.

“…I guess I’ll let you crash here tonight,” she murmured.

Nagi yawned. “Mm. Too much effort to go home anyway.”

Y/N swallowed hard, then let out a small laugh. “That’s the most Nagi way of saying ‘I’ll stay’ I’ve ever heard I think.”

He hummed in agreement, eyes already drooping lazily.

Y/N shook her head, smiling to herself before shifting slightly, resting her head lightly on his shoulder

It really felt like they were picking up where they left off. And Y/N enjoyed every moment of it.

Little did she know, Nagi felt exactly the same.

taglist: @nensi @topshotdivaa @mochiii-sama @exclusiverinaa @aztec-ahuizotil @p1z-d0n7jud6em3 @kawaisagi @umbrellagobrr @manjirosanoswifey @guiniegiyuuandrindihsucker @heartbrii

#bllk manga #bllk nagi #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock nagi #blue lock #blue lock manga #bllk fanart #blue lock fic #seishiro nagi #nagi seishiro #nagi x reader #bluelock x reader #bllk seishiro #seishiro nagi x reader

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truelotus · 2 months ago

Note

Could you please do a sfw one featuring the Captains (whichever you want) meeting a lieutenant reader with origami based abilities (like konan from naruto)?

Please 🙏

a/n: absolutely adored this, I love konan from naruto so much <3 thank you for this request anon! I couldn’t tell if you wanted a oneshot or hc’s but I did this a oneshot😢if you wanted hc’s lmk! and i’ll do it :P

Characters featuring : Jushiro Ukitake, Shunsui Kyoraku, Byakuya Kuchiki and Unohana Retsu.

Format : One-shot

Context: You become the lieutenant of the 13th division, but in order for you to become a lieutenant you to become a lieutenant, Jushiro needed to see your skills. After seeing them he was amazed and decided to show the other captains.

After Kaien Shibas death, Jushiro was ordered by central 46 to pick a lieutenant. You knew Kaien very well, just like everyone. He was a great man and a wonderful lieutenant. He was a man who you could not replace.

So it was understandable that Jushiro refused to pick another person to become his lieutenant, but central 46 was not going to have it and made him pick a seated officers, to see if they were capable of holding the lieutenant’s rank.

So that is when you came in, you held the 4th seat of the division. Jushiro was fully aware of your abilities, he has always been curious on how they worked since he himself has not seen it—because he is locked up in his own room, due to his sickness— so this was a opportunity to see it finally.

“Please send in the 4th seat officer, Y/N L/N.” Jushiro politely ordered that you come to the room now, you were nervous.

You knew that you could never be as good of a lieutenant like Kaien Shiba—if you picked to be the lieutenant— But you would for sure do your best, for yourself, your captain and your squad.

“Good morning, Captain Ukitake!” As soon as you stepped into the room, you bowed your head to your captain. He lightly smiled at you, nodding his head.

“Good morning, I’m very excited to see your abilities. Kaien would often talk about your abilities, so please show me everything you’ve got!” Jushiro could tell you were nervous, he could only hope that his words brought at least some comfort to you.

“Of course!”

You took a deep breath in, then one out before calling the incantation of your zanpakuto.

Suddenly, the blade of your zanpakuto was no more. The blade turned into a collection of razor sharp paper sheets.

His breath was taken away when seeing you control the paper sheets with just your hand, you continued to show your skills with the dummy that was laid out there for you.

You were truly an angel, you manipulated the paper sheets to become wings, beautiful paper made angel wings.

After a while, you thought you showed everything that was needed to show. You were truly magnificent, your performance was just perfect.

You manipulated the paper sheets once more, swiftly and elegantly you made a swan, you did it so effortlessly. You blew the paper swan to Jushiros direction, he carefully caught it, making sure that the swan was still in its perfect condition.

“I must say, your abilities are truly remarkable! The way you can manipulate paper with such grace, it is a work of art. You possess a rare strength, one that is not only powerful but also beautifully refined.”

Your cheeks flushed by such compliment, and because it was your captain giving you the compliment.

“Thank you captain Ukitake!” You bowed your head once more, you assumed that you weren’t going to be given the lieutenants rank because he has not said anything. You thought he was just giving you a compliment and waiting for you to leave now.

“I’ve watched your performance very closely, I can see you have both the strength and heart of a true warrior.”

You picked your head up, eyes glistening with hope.

“The position of lieutenant requires more than just skill; it requires someone who can guide, protect, and inspire those around them. I believe you have the potential to do just that.”

Your lips parted slightly, was he really going to trust you with the title of lieutenant? Yes, yes he was. Your abilities captivated him, he simply couldn’t resist you.

“If you accept, I would be honored to have you as my lieutenant. I truly believe that you are ready for this kind of opportunity.”

“Yes!”

Jushiro laughed lightly by your response, it was clear that there was no hesitation behind your answer. He felt some pride in himself for having you as a lieutenant, he can’t wait to show you off to the other captains.

“Thank you for coming today, I apologize for the inconvenience. But I just had to show you my new lieutenants abilities! I believe each one of you will be impressed.”

You panted softly after finishing your little performance for the captains—the ones that came— You didn’t expect to use this much energy for something like this.

Shunsui hummed, rubbing his chin as he inspected you. “I have to say, there’s something captivating about the way you command those papers. It’s like each piece dance at only your will, I’m sure the other captains would agree.”

“But.. if you ever get tired of the responsibility of entertaining others, you can always come and only entertain me.” Shunsui chuckled softly, winking at you.

“Yes I agree with captain Kyoraku, If you ever care to share more about your techniques.. perhaps you could with me over a cup of tea. There’s much I could learn about you and from you.. I would also enjoy the company.” Unohana said with a soft and gentle tone. Her smile seemed to be genuine—and it was—

“What about you captain Kuchiki? What did you think of her performance?” Unohana turned to Byakuya who seemed to be in a daze, he quickly snapped back, clearing his throat.

“If you ever require assistance with your techniques or any other matter, I will be available to support you, you may come to my estate whenever. It is a matter of honor.”

The other captains were rather surprised by his response, it seems like you really are special if Byakuya Kuchiki took a liking to you, to the point he invites you over to his estate whenever you’d like.

“Thank you so much! I’m truly honored for these opportunities you have all given me!”

After that little performance of yours, you became closer to the captains that were there for you the first time.

Shunsui would often come by to see you and Jushiro, he would ask you to teach him how to do certain origami things, such as a flower, a heart and swans—to impress the ladies—

But there would be times where he suddenly brings you a paper rose, on his own. He’d do it to impress you and see that little excitement in your eyes.

Unohana will always invite you over for tea or prepare you two a meal to share. You’d usually be the one doing all the talking, but neither of you had a problem with it, she was more than happy to hear you yap about your abilities, the new objects you could create.

She ended up taking a liking to origami just because of you, you would never know but she would often practice during her free time. She created a flower for you once, placing it into your hair.

And now that flower stays in your office, grateful that Unohana made it just for you.

Byakuya, would help you with your training. Since your zanpakuto is almost the same as his—both controlling something— he would demonstrate his own techniques, you would notice that he was trying to show off..

After training, he’d invite you to chat a bit before going back to your captain. He found comfort by your presence, he loved watching you shape your paper into something beautiful.

You would offer him to try, and he’d try but would fail miserably. Which kind of irked him.. you made it look so easy, so why couldn’t he do it just as effortlessly as you? But he wouldn’t mind in the end, that just means he could watch you swiftly do it.

As for your captain, Jushiro Ukitake. You’d be by his side most of the time while he rested. The two of you would talk about the different art could be put.

But his favorite type of art, would have to be yours, the art of your origami skills, the art of your zanpakuto, the art of your beauty, everything.

He appreciated you in every way, complimenting you and thanking you for everything. He loved having you as his lieutenant.

If he wasn’t in bed resting, you two would be out in the garden, talking about the recent events, art, and maybe even the recent gossip in the seireitei..

Of course you two wouldn’t badmouth about anyone, but you would talk about the juicy little drama going on and he’d listen carefully, and he’d stop you time to time to make sure he was understanding everything.

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lees-chaotic-brain · 1 year ago

Note

How would jjk men react to reader being pregnant with quadruplets?

Feat. Gojo, Yuta, Inumaki, Nanami, Megumi, Itadori (all characters are aged up)

Note: I did headcanons for this request because there were so many characters I wanted to include, and it would get a little boring to write the same scenario out in a full fledged fic like seven times. However, if there are one or two that you want me to turn into proper fics lmk!! I had to do research on pregnancy for this bc it's been awhile since my high school health class

CW: pregnancy, implied thoughts of abortion ig, mentions of fear regarding labor, AFAB reader bc, yk, pregnancy, one singular swear word

Word Count: 1.2k

JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

Gojo

I feel like Gojo would think you were joking at first, and wouldn’t believe you until you got frustrated and he finally realized you were being for real. He would have mixed emotions. On one hand, he was excited to have a big family and a house full of laughter and love. On the other hand, he was afraid, because more babies meant more defenseless mini-people for him to protect.

He had only known that he was going to be a father of quadruplets a few minutes ago, but he already knew that it would destroy him if he ever lost one of them. That he would gladly give his life for them. And then there was the matter of you. He already knew that childbirth was difficult for women, but quadruplets?? Childbirth was something that even he couldn’t protect you from and that terrified him.

After a serious discussion in which he made sure you were okay with the added risks and you continuously reassured him that this was what you wanted, he settled down and began imagining a future for your family. Until he realized that he would have to share your love with four little gremlins who would surely take after their clingy father. Then it suddenly seemed less appealing.

Yuta

Baby boy would be shooketh. Because he’s sorry please don’t be mad at him and oh you’re not mad at him and the two of you are having quadruplets well technically you are but he’s the dad and oh god what if he’s not good at being a dad and-

You would have to calm him down as he fell into a downward spiral. Once you had properly reassured him, and he had fully absorbed the information he was ecstatic. He has always wanted a big family, and together the two of you were making that dream come true. Cuddling up to you he would thank you for loving him and gifting him with the many kids he had always dreamed of having.

He for sure would be the type to rub your stomach and whisper sweet nothings to the growing babies in your womb, telling them how much daddy loves them and how excited he is to meet them.

He would also start baby-proofing every square inch of your house before you had even started your second trimester.

Inumaki

He would be in shock. Because he put- wait how many??? babies in you. There was no way he heard you right. There was no way that you were pregnant with quadruplets. Because, wait, he didn't sign up for this! Yeah, he wanted tons of kids, but four babies at a time was a lot. And the strain it would have on your body was concerning as well.

After he stopped opening and closing his mouth as he gaped at you, he managed to organize his thoughts. First he wanted to make sure you even wanted that many kids because, well, it wouldn’t be easy to give birth to or take care of that many. Once you had reassured him that you were, in fact, sure that you wanted to go through with the pregnancy and that you were prepared for whatever the future held for your not-so-little family he took a moment to process his own emotions.

At first he was conflicted. Sure he was excited, but he held his own private reservations. What if something went wrong during labor? What if he wasn’t cut out to be the parent of one kid, let alone four. But as the months sped by and your stomach grew, the anticipation grew, until one day he let go of any and all trepidation and allowed himself to be optimistic.

He also bought tons of matching onesies for the whole family.

Nanami

Ever the responsible adult and caring husband, first he sat you down and had a serious discussion about the pros and cons of having quadruplets, and whether or not the risks were worth it. Deep down he was thrilled, but he wanted to make sure the two of you were on the same page and understood what continuing meant.

Once the two of you had established you were going to see this through, and it was something the two of you wanted his planning would begin. First came the research. He thoroughly educated himself on everything regarding pregnancy, learning everything he needed to do to ensure your comfort and the healthy birth of his children.

Expect a special diet plan that fulfills the needs of you and your unborn children in the healthiest way possible, essential oil massages, weekly check-ups starting your second trimester, vitamin gummies and more.

He also would begin saving up because raising four children would be expensive. Would for sure have a whole financial plan set up and college savings accounts set up for each of his children within a week of his learning.

Megumi

Honestly, he wouldn’t have super strong feelings about it. He wanted to be a dad, but he didn’t care if it was one, four, or one hundred. He just wanted to have kids with you, and beyond that as long as you were happy he was too.

So when you told him, his only response was asking you what you thought about it. When you told him you were excited, he was excited too. He had wanted to build his own family for as long as he could remember, and you were helping him reach his dream. What more could he ask for? The only other thing that mattered to him was that his children had siblings. As a kid he had resented Tsumiki, but as an adult he couldn’t imagine the loneliness he would have experienced growing up without her. So yeah. If you were happy, and his children would have siblings so they would never have to walk through life alone, he was content.

There was nothing more he wanted in life than your love and a family with you.

Itadori

Kids!!! He had wanted a ton of kids, so this was perfect! You were happy with it, so even better! He sees it as a four-in-one deal, and is over the moon. His golden retriever personality becomes even worse when you’re pregnant. Like, this man is at your side 24/7.

Constantly following you around, looking at you with big pleading eyes as he begs to cuddle in bed with you so he can talk to your stomach.

Oh my god talking to your stomach. This man would talk to your stomach more than he talks to you. Asking what your kids want to be named. Telling your unborn babies about his day. That he loves them and can’t wait to meet them. Describes all the fun things the six of you are going to do once they’re born. Definitely tries cuddling your stomach because he ‘wants to know what it feels like to hold his children.’

Also is a little shit that constantly asks ‘are they coming yet? Why not??’

#lee's brain writes #jjk x reader #jjk x you #inumaki x reader #gojo x reader #yuta x reader #itadori x reader #nanami x reader #megumi x reader #nanami is baby daddy material for real #so responsible #i wrote a whole essay for inunmaki #and even after shortening it i had to make the others longer so that my bias wouldn't show #jjk fluff #jjk crack #jjk fic

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jedineedlove · 10 months ago

Text

The Nine-Headed Demon

Titles:

Prince Consort of Jisa, Xiangliu, and The Emissary

I wanted to know more about our villain for season 5 so I looked more into his titles.

Xiangliu:

it came up as, a venomous nine-headed snake monster that brings floods and destruction. Xiangliu may be depicted with his body coiled on itself. The nine heads are arranged differently in different representations. Modern depictions resemble the hydra with each head on a separate neck. Older wood-cuts show the heads clustered on a single neck, either side-by-side or in a stack three high, facing three directions.

But that can't be him sure they bring floods and destruction. But in the show we already see one of these and they have no giant bird form. In Season 4 Episode 4 Pig- Napped

I don't know why he said he was one of these...maybe he's related to one of that just what some people call him on the nine-head thing and he went along with it.

The Emissary title stumped me but it means that he was given or named himself a representative of something or someone. He mentioned being the consort of Jisa and the Wiki thinks it is a kingdom so maybe the Emissary of there but I think more likely with his obsession over it he's the Emissary of Chaos like the Harbinger of Chaos.

But it still got me no closer to him so I started looking at appearances.

I found this...

Jiu Feng:

Nine-headed Bird, also called “Jiu Feng” in Chinese, is a monster in Chinese Mythology. It is a legendary bird with a bird’s body and nine heads with human faces and is regarded as one of the earliest forms of the Chinese phoenix. It was worshiped by ancient natives in Hubei Province.

Pretty much WHAT he is but I went deeper on the WHO he is......

JTTW:

There was a demon with a similar name in the JTTW, I thought there was no way it was him no way it was that simple.....

"The Nine-Headed Beast (九頭蟲), also known as the Nine-Headed Prince Consort (九頭駙馬), is married to Wansheng Dragon King's daughter. He is armed with a Crescent Moon Spade (月牙鏟). He collaborates with his father-in-law to steal the Śarīra from Golden Ray Monastery. Sun Wukong enlists the help of celestial forces to deal with the demons. The Nine-Headed Beast has one of his heads bitten off by Erlang Shen's celestial hound but manages to escape."

It's him who got the description and the sharing consort title. I didn't think it could be because this character had no other link to Wukong than this one-off meeting but then again like I said before LMK is a JTTW fanfic.

In this scene where he mentioned being BOTH Friend and Foe, the Foe part made sense but the FREIND did not. Nor the why Wukong would not remember him in either capacity.

Also, this whole link to Chaos and these powers are out of nowhere for this character so they clearly added a few other things onto him as well.

But then again Wukong only sees him in this form. The Monkey does not get to see

Maybe if he saw him like this it might make him remember but that's just a theory.

Another name I found he is called is the Nine-Headed Bug or Worm listen to this...

(PS to Overly Saractist Production Fans this guy shows up in the Chapter after Bull King so the next episode of JTTW from their youtube channel if they ever get back to it)

"In his humanoid form, the Nine-Headed Bug is a man who has nine faces, and wears armor, holds a Crescent Moon Spade. However, in the 1986 series, he simply has one visible face like a regular person, wears regular purple -

aristocratic clothes, and a crown that consists of nine snake-like heads (hinting at his true form).

The Bug's -

true form is that of a gigantic bird that looks like an eagle, with nine heads, and blood on his back.

His true form is never fully revealed in the 1986 TV series, but a few heads of him hints at how it looks like."

The reason I mention this is because I've noticed this in my Iron Fan Legend, JTTW, and LMK. That the design for some of the characters comes from older media of JTTW like TV shows and movies live action or animated.

Wukong fillet in season 5 has a mix of all of his past media fillets designed with the middle cresting up for the two loops but we get a crest moon shape like in Journey to the West- Legends of the Monkey King (Middle image)

The bullhorn hair from Dream Journey 2: Princess Iron Fan in 2017.

and more.....

So using this description made sense.

I would also like to point out that I saw someone's comment but not sure who the NINE-Headed Demon in his beast form is missing one of his heads, his nine-headed title comes from the extra nine around the main one the main face does not count and they are right there are only eight of the small ones but go back up to the first quote where I mentioned Erlang's dog bit off one of those heads so it makes sense. If anything it might tell us THAT fight did go down just not the way in the book.

Good Puppy. :)

Hope you all enjoyed..

#lmk nine headed demon #sun wukong #lmk #jttw #lego monkie kid #journey to the west #fan thoughts #monkey king

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luvv4j4ybe11 · 1 year ago

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✧Summary~teyam teases his stepsis while you two are having a movie night with friends😉

✧Warnings~public sex, mentions of alcohol,stepcast, stepbrother!neteyam, stepsister!reader,fingering, and I think that’s it. Lmk if I missed anything, enjoy love<33

✧Translations~ Tanhì- star,bioluminescent freckle, Paskalin-honey

It was late,the light of the so called “tv” and the light of the bonfire being the only thing surrounding you and your friends. Lo’ak was the one to bring up the idea to have a “movie night”, once he explained it to everyone else(and also told them he’d bring drinks) they were down to come with. Everyone was laughing and talking freely, just letting the alcohol flow through their bodies as they waited for your stepbrother to set everything up.

“Want some company?” You ask Neteyam, looking down at him with a soft smile. He looks up at you with a smile,lifting up the big fluffy blanket so you can lay next to him. “Of course, paskalin.” The name making your smile widen and stomach flutter. Once you get comfortable he slides a pillow under your head, making you giggle at his actions.

“What?” He asks through a laugh, ears perked up at attention. You smile softly, his clueless expression making your heart beat rapidly. “You’re just the best teyam.” You say while instinctively moving closer to him. “Yeah, I know” he says sarcastically, making you elbow his ribs softly.

“Alright! You guys ready?” Lo’ak says as he shuts the lights off and presses a button that starts the movie. He lays down next to tsireya before sitting back up,“And you guys better not talk or I swear to god-ow! The fuck bro?” He glares at spider, who interrupted him by throwing a pillow at him. “Why do you act like you won’t be talkin 5 minutes into this?” He taunts as he leans back a crosses his arms, making kiri and the rest of the group giggle.

He rolls his eyes at spider,“Bro that’s not even true, why are you lying?” He claps back quickly, already picking a fight.

“So what are you doing right now, lo’ak?” You ask, making him get silent real quick. The groups laughs at this, leaving lo’ak a pouting mess next to tsireya who was pulling him so he can lay back down.

The movie that’s playing seemed like a horror movie, since the scene that was on showed the killer walking around the main character’s house. The tense music made you play with your fingers anxiously, and your body gets stiff with nerves.

Noticing this, neteyam lets out a soft chuckle, “Tanhì..” he says as he pulls you into his chest softly, rubbing your arm soothingly. “You know I got you. No need to be scared” he says quietly, placing his chin on the top of your head.

The new position made your nerves die down, but also made you realize how much of his body was touching yours, his legs tangled in yours, his hand on your arm, his toned chest touching your back. It made heat spread all over your body.

To get away from the feeling, you shift your hips back slightly. Making neteyam groan lowly. The noise going straight to your now leaking pussy.

He smiles once he inhales that sweet, flowery smell of yours he loved so much. Already knowing what’s got you so excited.

Glancing down at you heatedly, he lets his hands roam over your body, eventually finding comfort on your hips. “Mhm tahni.. what are you thinking about that’s got you so pent up?” He says lowly, nibbling at your ear gently.

Thoughts aren’t even a thing for you at this point, too distracted by the throbbing in your needy cunt. He grinds his hips into you softly, making you snap back into reality.

Your hands fly to his wrists before you look up at him.“Teyam, we shouldn’t… it’s not right.” He raises his brows at this, before leaning back slightly to look at you. “Yeah? If you really think that, then why can I always smell how much that pretty pussy leaks whenever I’m around you?” He states, leaving you dumbstruck. Because you know he’s right.

Ever since he stopped looking like the little boy you remembered so fondly and more like the man he is now, you’ve been silently drooling over him. Everything he does makes you crazy, but guilty at the same time. Because it wasn’t right in anyway. It was so incredibly wrong. But the way his hands felt on you felt so right. The way your bodies melted together felt so right. He felt so right.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought” He taunts as he leaves wet kisses on your neck, untying the knot in your loincloth swiftly.

Your arousal hits him like a wave, making him growl in your ear lowly. “Fuck tanhì, must want me to fuck you infront of everyone huh?” His accent getting thicker and voice getting husky the more his fingers slide up and down your slit.

You cover your mouth quickly, not wanting to get caught. Not when you’ve been waiting this long for him to finally make a move.

He rubs gentle circles on your clit, making you bite the inside of your palm and throw your hips back into his buldge. “Don’t make any noise, alright tanhì?” He warns, placing his hand over your mouth before slowly sliding a finger into your aching pussy.

You moan at the stretch just one of his fingers gave you, making you even more nervous for the eventual stretch of his cock. Your noise was covered up by the loudness of the movie, so you were safe from getting caught. but it didn’t fail to slip past lo’aks ears.

You place both of your hands on your stepbrothers wrist for support, eyes getting teary from having to keep your pretty nosies in.

He kisses your temple gently as he increases his pace, curling his finger into your sweet spot and rubbing circles on your clit. Making you whine pathetically. “Neteyam..” you complain, your pussy begging for another finger. “Shshhh, baby sis, let me take care of you.” He coos, sliding another finger in and pressing his thumb on your clit harder.

You shove your face into the bed below you, holding his hand desperately as you feel your high approaching. He smirks at your trembling form, leaning down to lick and kiss at your tender skin. “Awh tanhì..can’t handle your big brother’s fingers inside of you? Mm, what a shame~” he mumbles lowly, thrusting his fingers deeper into your pussy.

The squelching of your leaking cunt gets louder the more he goes on, letting him know you were close. The others were completely unaware of what you two were doing, too focused in the movie to care.

You turn your head slightly, meeting his lust filled gaze. “Teyam I’m gonna-“ you try to warn him, but he already knows. Reading your body like a book.“I know baby, want you to cum all over my fingers.”

You almost let out a moan as you cum, but that was silenced by Neteyam kissing you greedily. He slows his pace once you finally relax, and your high is ridden out.

You both pant quietly when the kiss is broken, looking at each other heatedly. He pulls his fingers out of you slowly, making you whimper at the loss of them. He brings them to his mouth. Licking your slick off greedily.

You watch the whole thing with half lidded eyes, the sight making your pussy throb needily and face heat up. “Mhm baby sis, we should’ve done that sooner.” He says with a shit eating grin on his face, making you roll your eyes.

He leans down to give you a passionate kiss before leaving a trail towards your ear. “Can’t wait to see how many ways I can break you, tahni.” He growls lowly into your ear. Making you whimper softly.

He leans away from you right when the lights turn back on, but his hands never leave your body. “So? Did you guys like it?” Lo’ak says to the group, all of them giving their opinions all at once. “Mhm yeah, it was definitely too scary for y/n though, she had her face covered the whole time” Lo’ak teases you, but the look in his eye told you he knew why you were really hiding your face.

“Yeah, she kept grabbing me whenever there was a jumpscare. She’s such a baby.” Neteyam adds on further, the smirk on his face telling you that you were in for it once it was just the two of you.

A/N~ late post but yall are gettin fed!! Half proofread this so if there’s any errors lmk. Stay safe and hydrated bbys🩷

Duces🫶🏽,

Luvv4j4ybe11

Taglist: @blue-slxt @pandoraslxna @neteyamswillow @neteyamsyawntu @justcaptiannoodles @jakexneytiri @hotdsworld @plooto @alexxie @marcelruizboba @km-ffluv @urlocalgayblueberry @rihnnx @koalalafications @somedays-i-just-feel-bad-bitch @skywonder @tallulah477 @zafrinaxyz

#avatar #atwow #luvv4j4ybe11 #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #kinkmas 2023 #kinkmas #12daysofkinkmas #neteyam smut #neteyam fanfic #avatar neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam avatar #neteyam x stepsis!reader #stepbro!neteyam

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lotusarchon · 7 months ago

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I had to make a whole google doc to sort my thoughts on this, that's how mad I am tbh. My friends have made explanations which you can find here, and here. And while I told myself that after that post I was done, seeing my friend receive a comment like this was the final pushing point I needed.

I'm both going to ramble about Nezha here again, and I'm going to try and explain this in a way that'll get people to understand, as someone who once followed an Eastern religion too + I'm going to be stating my basic thoughts here so maybe some things won't make sense.

Mild info about me: I'm from Trinidad. My family is described with East Indian descent but clearly, I'm not from India itself. My knowledge of Hinduism is rather basic because I quit religion thanks to traumatic experiences related to it, however not lacking fully. From my father's side, specifically his mother, they practice Hinduism and can even be considered devout Hindus (if I'm to believe all the statues and pictures of about almost every single Hindu god). Though my knowledge is basic, understand that I'm not Hindu nor Indian, so of course these are my opinions and my experiences with Hinduism, and I do not advise you taking my word fully to heart. I'm only trying to explain something to the LMK fandom in the best way I know how too, by referencing another Eastern religion that isn't half as popular as Daoism/Buddhism.

There's only one show I know where Hinduism is portrayed, and it's an anime/manga series called Record Of Ragnarok (Shuumatsu No Valkyrie), and from what I know it's not well liked by others (and even banned I think?) because of the fact Shiva is weaker than Zeus and the supposed sexualization of Parvati, Kali and Durga? It's been a while so I could be wrong on this though.

Why am I bringing this topic up to a rant about a lego character though?

#1) Fiction vs Religion and Reality

While one half expresses discontent and discomfort, I've seen others who clearly don't mind because Shiva is still badass and cool. I myself had some qualms about his appearance in the beginning because while I did quit religion, this was a god I used to worship, and seeing him in an anime/manga and be sexualized and simped for was…uncanny, to say the least. Overtime I grew numb to it though because it was genuinely funny and even I, an ex Hindu, found him attractive, and had not much hesitation writing smut about him in past fics.

Similarly, I can imagine this is how Daoists and Chinese had originally felt about Nezha in Lego Monkie Kid [Only referencing LMK with Chinese deities. I'm aware there could be other media where they're in.] A bit weird at first but then overall got used to it because there's genuinely no harm done, as it's not meant to be an educational retelling of a god, but a fictional portrayal of him.

Returning to the point I mentioned with Shiva. When I first came across this series in 2021 (?), I did not feel too happy and comfortable with the image of a deity I've grown up worshipping as a child. I quit religion when I turned 13, so it's been nearly five years since I've had nothing to do with the main religion of my household; Hinduism. Still, I practically grew up worshipping this god I was taught to fear, and seeing a potrayal of him (which honestly in my opinion) didn't seem like a good thing at the time.

Why did I eventually stop being bothered? Because this wasn't supposed to be retelling of Shiva. This was just a character with similarities to the god I worshipped, but wasn't the god. The series I watched wasn't even intending to teach audiences about any of the religions and real life figures they portrayed, they simply used them as inspiration to tell a story. They weren't accurate representations, but that was the point. It's a story about gods vs humans from history; of course it wasn't going to be accurate nor stay true to the figure they took inspiration from.

You can imagine then for a cartoon series meant to sell Legos. Lego Monkie Kid contains several characters that are known in Chinese myths and legends/religions. Of the most popular mentioned, there is Sun Wukong, one of the main characters in the series, Tang Sanzang otherwise known as Tripitaka and the Great Monk, Lady Guanyin mentioned in season 1, the one the fandom argues about, Nezha, the Jade Emperor in season 4, and most recently, Nuwa, and Heavenly Pagoda King, Li Jing. There may be others but these are the ones that are most known within the fandom.

Mind you some of these figures are still very much worshipped now, but, point remains: the series was never intended to be a retelling of these characters stories, nor were they intended to be educational for audiences. They took inspiration directly, gave their own twists, and hence you have the story of LMK, meant to originally promote Legos and then eventually gave way to the series that this fandom belongs too.

These characters are not their source material, nor the origins of which they came from as religious figures. Sun Wukong is a Buddha within JTTW’s ends and if I'm right is still worshipped as such sometimes (?). He didn't hide away into a mountain at the end of his journey. His companions didn't die, nor were they reincarnated, but instead also acquired titles and became Buddhas as well. (Or gods? I frankly don't remember). Tang Sanzang as we've in season 4 was not some sort of brave, astute man in the book but rather a crybaby coward. Need I even point out that Nezha wouldn't have a giant mech to fight people, nor would he have such close deposition with the Jade Emperor? Or the fact that the Jade Emperor would be bested by someone like Azure Lion?

Not even counting Journey To The West and the Fengshen Yanyi, the real Tang Sanzang that Wu Cheng’en took inspiration of most certainly did not have a monkey, a pig, a water demon and a dragon turned horse with him on his journey.

Why speak of all this?

To make my first point; religion and fiction are two very different things. Religion has existed for who knows how long, and fiction has recently decided to include fictional potrayals of these gods into stories and cartoons. From a writer's perspective, it's really interesting taking something that is a part of religion and writing it into your own works, with your own take on it.

And of course, brings me to the topic of Nezha.

Lego Monkie Kid Nezha is, according to an official writer within the show's team, an adult. Although many fans have their objections about this, supposedly because Nezha in other sources is a child god, and think that the writer only abruptly pointed out Nezha's an adult to save her own skin.

Taking all my points in consideration; let me humour the Nezha is a child god idea. What, exactly, does this have to do with Nezha in Monkie Kid?

If Nezha, the god within Daoism and Buddhism, is supposedly a child deity, what law says that any other potryal of Nezha has to abide by this?

By this logic. Shiva in the anime I mentioned above shouldn't be weaker than Zeus. He also shouldn't even be agreeing to fight mortals, as he's a deity far above such petty behavior. Zeus shouldn't be portrayed in books like PJO as a lecherous cheater, because in reality, Ancient Greece consisted of multiple kingdoms and thereby different interpretations of Zeus were merged together which is what consists of the myths we know of him today which is highly disrespectful, and Sun Wukong shouldn't be a mentor to MK, because he's supposed to be a Buddhist, and thereby wouldn't be entertaining fighting nuances.

Fiction doesn't not adhere to reality. The fact I need to say this astounds me because should this not be obvious? Lego Monkie Kid is a cartoon set in some sci-fi futuristic world with lego people walking around, where gods somehow need mechs to go around fighting, and there are animal-like demons/yaoguai walking around here and there. There is literally an arcade in the show with zero gravity. Do you possibly believe for a miniscule second that anything that goes down in a fictional setting will adhere to our reality??

And, even then, humouring the Nezha being a child deity concept > what law says that he has to be portrayed as a child in other pieces of fiction?? Especially when the fictional setting is not meant to be a retelling or for educational purposes, but rather to carry a plot.

There is nothing, no law, no rules that insists that a religious figure must be portrayed as they are in a legend/myth for a fictional world.

Lego Monkie Kid Nezha is not the deity Nezha. He is a completely different character, which many of you should have realized from the exact moment he was brought into the show. They are not the same person. Never was.

“Oh, it's disrespectful―” From a writer's perspective, I personally don't think so. If I wanted to make a story that involved a god, I wouldn't keep everything that makes that god who they are. There are some key points I would keep to make the story, but I would ultimately create an OC that shares some attributes to this religious figure, but it wouldn't be him. The show Record of Ragnarok does a good job with this in my opinion, because while many characters share some attributes to the real figures they're inspired by, the writers changed several things to create a proper story, and thereby making these characters OCs and not the actual gods themselves, and of course that logic applies to Lego Monkie Kid.

In the instance, again, Nezha the god from Daoism, is in fact a child deity, Nezha in LMK isn't. Nezha in LMK is someone who's entirely different from the god himself.

So, the logic this fandom uses confuses me a lot. Do you not understand how to seperate fiction from religion?? Do many of you not understand media literacy, and what a writing process is like?

Sigh. Moving to another point―

#2) Character Designs

Sometimes, when it comes to character designs, anyone could just throw them into anything and think, “Yeah that's good.” Not much thought is given to a character's appearances depending, which I don't really blame as someone who's 1) done literature as a hobby and has seen my fair share of character designs, 2) creates characters myself. It's too hard thinking of a character's appearance, and even then when making them there normally wouldn't be any significance.

Nezha's design in LMK seems to be a huge source of debate when arguing about his age. It was actually brought up in my previous post, specifically that his hairstyle was often used by children at the time.

I have a bone to pick with this point.

This is Nezha from Lego Monkie Kid:

However, this is Mei from the same show:

Before anyone starts, allow me to point out as a history geek that likes religion and pointless facts over politics: I am aware that there are different hairstyles to show certain things, including one's age and status and sometimes even personality. Do not bring up any points about the differences in these characters hairstyles with an excuse, “Oh, but you should know―”, because I know how hairstyles could be treated within history.

However. Look at Nezha's hairstyle, and then Mei's. I've never seen the LMK fandom complain about Mei's age, because it was generally believed that MK and Mei are both at least 18 if not older, as the legal age for a driver's license in China is 18.

Both Nezha and Mei are wearing a ‘bun’ type hairstyle. Mei's is arguably more of twin ponytails (?), but I'm not a hairstylist, so I don't know what they're called. To me they look similar, that's all I'm trying to say. And even if they weren't though―through a modern lense, a hairstyle isn't reserved for just any specific age. Anyone can wear a hairstyle they want. Keep in mind that the creators of LMK are also Western(?), and they chose a hairstyle for these two characters based on personality and appearances.

A hairstyle is not reserved for any age. Grown women including my aunts have worn hairstyles similar to these just for fun.

That's point one.

Point two; Nezha is a very popular deity, much like Sun Wukong. In terms of recognition, Sun Wukong is very easy to recognize because of his staff and his overall cocky personality.

Nezha however is an entirely different case. Most media potrayals of him always has the two-bun hairstyle of him, which is what makes Nezha recognizable. If you remove that specific hairstyle of his, you won't recognize him. It's iconic, and pointed out in this scene (The Legend of Hei) where Nezha makes an appearance as well.

youtube

[Characters sitting together. White haired boy (Hei + MC) looks at the older, dark haired boy (Nezha). Nezha looks back.]

Nezha: What? You want an autograph?

Hei: You're a boy?

Nezha: Yeah?

Hei: Your hairstyle is cute.

[Nezha looks in front with an annoyed expression.]

Nezha: If it weren't for the recognizability, I'd have changed it long ago.

Hei: Recognizability?

[Nezha removes the buns(? some form of them?) from his head. Three older figures glance at him.]

???: Who are you?

[Scene returns]

Nezha: See?

Aka, point being made: those buns are what makes Nezha recognizable. If he doesn't have that hairstyle, unless it's specifically pointed out, I'm certain majority would not recognize him.

Some hairstyles are meant to be done for some form of meaning. But sometimes, as is the case with designs, they're just there just because no one wanted to make the characters bald. Using the excuse about Nezha's hairstyle to justify his age as a child is by far the lamest and dumbest excuse I've ever heard of, because the creators did not give him that hairstyle for the sake of some meaning anymore than MK was given his current hairstyle either. It's his logo at this point, ignoring his color scheme aside.

Even then, if the creators of Lego Monkie Kid intended for Nezha to be a child within the show, he would not appear as he is. Lego Monkie Kid has made children models, which we can see here (used from s3 and up in case someone tries to excuse the differences in seasons):

And of course, Nezha's model;

Despite the perspective and low quality though, he's at least the same height as Red Son here:

If Lego Monkie Kid truly intended for Nezha to be a child, his appearance and model would be similar to the children's in the show. Perspective is difficult to find but you can clearly see he's about the same height as the other adult characters if not taller, and is not small like the child figures we see.

Pink isn't a children's color, and nothing about Nezha's clothing indicates a child. He very much looks like an adult and doesn't exhibit childish behavior as we see Red Son, Mei and MK do.

I've seen fans use his voice to point out he's an adult, but I'm not sure that's a valid point. I say this as someone who has a 13 year old brother and was recently a minor myself.

Allow me to clarify: a voice isn't a clear proof of age. My father is a 45 year old man but sounds very much like a woman/teenage girl. My brother is 13 and sounds more of an adult than his father. My classmate in highschool was one year older than me and his voice was very high-pitched.

The voice actors in LMK are directed to speak a certain way for a reason…in English. I'm not sure about Mandarin. In my opinion, Wukong's voice sounds like Son Goku's because it's a reference to the fact Wukong is what inspired Goku. Nezha's probably sounds deep and brooding not because he's a child but because it almost represents his own personality, and probably is a reference from another shonen protagonist Ichigo Kurosaki. MK's voice in the beginning sounds really childish to me but slowly as the events of s3, 4 and 5 happen it gets more deeper almost as a reference to show how his ‘innocence’ is slowly fading.

Or, I might be looking to into it. Regardless, tdlr, don't use Nezha's voice in your argument. I've seen grown ass men have high pitched voices.

Returning to my original point however; if you have an ounce of media literacy and understanding, you should be aware that some character designs are chosen for a reason. Nezha's icon is those two bun hairstyle, and the writers purposely chose it so old fans/readers of JTTW and FSYY and maybe other Chinese/Daoists would be able to recognize him and go, “Hey, that's Nezha from―”

Before I got into LMK, I read JTTW and also saw The Legend of Hei and the Nezha 2019 movie, so I knew him because of the hairstyle. And my first instinct of course was to point out, “That's the dude from TLOH!!” when I saw him. So, the hairstyle was chosen for the recognizability, and I highly doubt as a sign of age.

Even then, LMK Nezha aside, moving on to a different point.

#3) Sources Of Inspiration

The 21st century isn't really the first era where people are taking inspiration from other cultures. As a matter of fact, it's been happening for decades, and it's very prominent in religion, which someone of you would know if you both a) actually did proper research, b) gave a shit about what you're researching and c) studied history.

Hilariously, I have done all three of the above.

I'm going to use a popular example here with Sun Wukong and Hanuman. Hinduism is supposedly largely considered one of the oldest religions in the world. If you truly think about it, certain Daoist deities are loosely inspired or are versions of Hindu gods, which I'm going to use here with a popular example (and provide a link too).

― Sun Wukong and Hanuman. The earliest Vedic records mention one of the supposed known monkey gods, and their similarities make scholars suggest Hanuman inspired Sun Wukong. Specifically his figure in JTTW, where it's speculated that the author must've had a copy of Vedic (?) hymns. While Sun Wukong does predate JTTW, Hanuman definitely has had some influence on him.

Much, much similarly, the deity known as Nezha, is also loosely inspired/based off the figure known as Nalakuvara, who appears in Hindu and Buddhist mythology, and often appears as a sexual trickster figure in Hindu and Buddhist literature.

Historically speaking, when it comes to religion and myths, something many people fail to understand is that before there was the idea of writing to tell a story, there was the process known as sharing from mouth to ear. Not in a literal sense, but rather that people often preferred to tell stories via word of mouth back then, and as things always go in history, there will be changes. The proof is literally right there. Nezha was originally known as Nalakuvara, yet when transmitted through Buddhist texts, he became known as Nazha, then Nezha. And as such, the Lotus Prince and Chinese god known as Nezha was created. A combination of Nalakuvara and the child god Krishna.

A lot of people will want to jump on that specific point that mentions Krishna being a child god, so allow me to immediately put you down right there.

Ex Hindu here; I did not even know there was a portrayal of Krishna as a child. Up until I stopped practicing Hinduism, I used to worship Krishna as an adult figure. In the paintings and statues my aunts had for Diwali as a child, he was always showcased as an adult.

Ironically, doesn't this apply for the actual god Nezha too?

When it comes to religion and myths, many of you forget something very important; there is no such thing as a canon iteration. These aren't shows, these are stories from the past told through different people, and passed through many hands. There is no such thing as a canon version because almost everyone had their own version of a myth or story. Terms you may typically apply to fandoms don't apply to fucking religions and myths, and some of you are so chronically online that you forget it.

#4) The LMK Fandom's Chronically Online Attitude

I'm an ex Hindu who still faintly remembers some bits and pieces from my childhood while practicing this religion, especially during the Diwali period, where little me managed to get new information from library books about the gods my family worshipped. I personally didn't like sitting during the priest's (forgot what he was called) chanting though but the funny white thingy we used to have to wear was fun.

There are some Hindu gods I'm familiar with, like Lakshmi, Kali, Durga and the other versions of her (I still can't recover from the one statue with her in a fish..) Parvati, Shiva, Vishnu, Hanuman (yaah), Rama and Sita, Ganesh (also yah) and of course, Krishna. I also have watched my fair share of childhood movies and cartoons where the gods were mentioned or present―Karan & Arjun specifically struck the fear in me with Kali 😭😭 holy fuck that movie scared me with the creepy edits jeez T-T. There was also that one cartoon about Rama and Sita”s story specifically Hanuman, and this Indian TV series where this little girl was a loyal devotee to Ganesha (I had no idea rats were one of his uh signature animals holy shit).

I'm rambling here a bit because the childhood memories were fun, but the point I'm going for is though….

I am familiar with these gods I grew up with. And I know about them, maybe not enough but certainly enough to know how to properly respect them from back then.

And, using Krishna as a prime example; if someone came up to me, or I came across anyone, who argues that the god I know is an immortal child, even though I have worshipped and adult version of him, I'd be so fucking pissed. Krishna is seen as an adult, I worshipped him as an adult, but there are cases where he's a child god, and that's fine! But to have someone tell you that you're wrong about the god you know about because they got some basic information off the internet, undoubtedly, I'm going to be pissed. Especially when it's from a Western fan who has no fucking brain.

So, of course, imagine how devotees of Nezha and Chinese people must be feeling every single time this fandom fucks about with Nezha's age. I saw it myself; people told my friend that a) she was lying and b) her statement is irrelevant just because “I did my proper research, and even if you're Chinese you can still be a proshipper, Nezha's a child deity.”

It's genuinely so fucked up to me how the LMK fandom act towards Nezha's age. You guys will ignore the people who are willing to provide accurate information for the sake of being in the right and accusing people for being a proshipper over a deity they have more experience with than you, a Western fan who has no knowledge of Eastern religion.

It's insane. There are actual Daoist and Chinese who are pointing out the fact Nezha isn't an immortal fucking child.

You're not only disrespectful, you insane, childish and most importantly chronically online. Nezha the god isn't a fictional character, there's nothing ‘canon’ about him. He's a god who's lived for decades longer than you, and his existence predates yours. People have long sinced worshipped Nezha, and the fact that you can so boldly tell someone they're wrong about the god they've worshipped is so disrespectful.

Do you not realize, as Nezha is worshipped as a child, he's worshipped as an adult? Do you not take into account how absolutely disgusting and horrible you are telling Daoists and Chinese who have stated time and time again the information of Nezha being an immortal child is factually incorrect that they're wrong and know nothing??

I'm repeating my statement; I'm an ex Hindu, but if anyone told me that Krishna's an immortal child too and then point out I'm wrong and my point doesn't matter, I would be seething. And I don't blame my friend who's losing their temper about Nezha's age.

What amazes me though, somehow, is the fact that. If anyone who was Chinese + Daoist agreed with your claims, as Cole from Twitter once did, none of you would've spoken that way to my friend. But of course, once she points out she's Chinese/ex Daoist and disagrees with you, majority of the opinions switched because, she wasn't agreeing with your headcanon, right? So even though she's Chinese, she's bad because she disagreed with you.

You're all disgusting and fucking weird.

And the fact y'all in this fandom will habitually prove yourselves as hypocrites by attacking people, and then ignoring the ones who are capable of proving you're wrong to cling to a false idea is insane. You guys need some actual help, holy fucking shit.

Nezha isn't an immortal child. That's a god. If he was intended to be a child in LMK, there would've been statements about it.

Seperate fiction from religion, and seperate your headcanon from canon and the actual god. If you think this biased headcanon is okay and attacking people that point you out for being wrong is somehow okay, I sincerely ask that you take a break from the internet, and read a book.

No, don't just read a book. Read a history book. Pick up some knowledge, understand how religion and history works.

Furthermore. The research some of you guys are doing is actually shit, by the way. You guys aren't researching properly if you can pull up with Nezha is 12, thing. If you actually cared about his age, you'd put more effort and actually stop being disrespectful to the people who are giving you the proper information. You only research surface level so you can attack people.

And additionally, stop playing the Devil's advocate. Most of you are just Western fans who think you know everything from reading one book or watching one show. You read JTTW or watch OSP’s videos and suddenly, you know more than an actual Chinese person or Daoist. You look up Wikipedia and think, “Oh yeah, I'll go with this!” And that's it. Most of you at best can provide only three websites at most, and I can bet my ass that these websites with information about Nezha's age was written by a fan who got their information from a shit source.

I love History, and most specifically, I love religion. Not so much the divine aspects as it is about the myths that surround it. Whenever I get into a fandom, I need to find out more about their religion and history. Getting into JTTW, and eventually, LMK, pushed me into a rabbit hole of Chinese myths that I really enjoy learning. But dealing with idiots who think they know more?? It's sickening as shit.

I'd like to think I'm good at literature things because once it's a religion or myth I want to learn everything about it. But I know I don't know everything, and I know especially I have more to learn. I'd never tell someone who is a part or worships the religion/culture I'm learning that they're factually incorrect about it just because I have an opinion and I learnt my info from a random source.

You guys in the LMK fandom are incredibly entitled. The Nezha is 12 controversy is a headcanon, which became worst by that asshat Cole on Twitter. And because so many of you don't want to learn the truth, whenever someone tries to point out and help you, you ignore them or attack them, and deny their heritage.

And honestly?? You guys suck.

And this is coming from me!! Some of y'all are grown ass adults too!! And yet I'm childish and immature!?!

Brother I literally turned 18 a few months ago, yet I'm 100% certain I'm not throwing a blasted hissy fit over a fucking god the way some of you all who are most definitely adults are doing.

And finally, the one thing that actually does make me laugh is because I'm pretty sure most of you didn't do History classes. One of the most important things my history teacher taught me is; don't use Wikipedia as a source of viable information. Thousands of people are capable of accessing Wikipedia and changing information as they want, and so it's much better to find book solid resources from libraries. I did in fact use Wikipedia too (hypocritical of me yeah) so of course I wouldn't advise using the screenshots I provided from Wikipedia as evidence to the argument, because anything on Wikipedia can be changed. If I'm feeling extra petty I could change something myself to be in the right.

Furthermore, if you dare to bring up only JTTW and FSSY as a plausible argument about Nezha's age, I'm genuinely going to throw hands and fuck your mother. I think my friend also mentioned it in their posts but I'll mention it here too; JTTW does NOT state Nezha's age. I've read JTTW, and aside from Wukong vs Nezha there's nothing else that states Nezha's age. For all we're aware of, Wukong called Nezha a kid just out of spite, and I do it too when I'm arguing with someone. FSSY is the Investiture of the Gods and the ORIGINS!! Do you THINK a book about the ORIGINS of the gods would focus on other aspects about them!!? No!!

I expect some of the arguments I might get are;

"Oh, Nezha [appearances] could be wearing a glamor!" That is a headcanon, as we see nothing in LMK to refute that. Macaque's scar is canon because it's shown within the show. Nezha's appearance has NOT fluctuated since he was introduced. The idea of him using a glamor or illusion is a HEADCANON unless proven by the show. And headcanons are NOT vital.

"But you use Wikipedia too :(" Which I pointed out and made aware of, which is I also doubt that source myself. If any of you did History, your teachers are supposed to INFORM you that using a website is NOT a good idea for backing up information, and it's much better to use books or other trusted sources. In the case of Nezha, I'm trusting actual Daoists/Chinese who knows more about him than I do. It's because I did PROPER research that I even came across a good source of information, aka @ruibaozha, who I'm sure can share more light on this than me! The fact that some of you guys won't even acknowledge them is almost proof that...you're clinging to a headcanon. Jackass.

"But Nezha in JTTW/FSSY are 7/12 and that's where LMK takes it's inspiration from so obviously―" We've seen for a fact LMK does NOT follow JTTW to the letter. Jade Emperor beating Wukong?? Lady Bone Demon being a powerful foe and being trapped in a bunker? Azure even being able to kill the Emperor? Majority of the LMK fandom likes to point out that LMK Macaque and JTTW Macaque are two different people, especially when you claim that Macaque is a bad character because he cannibalized the monkeys. So then, with this logic, JTTW Nezha, FSSY Nezha, and LMK Nezha are also three seperate figures. I swear someone made a post about the differences JTTW and FSSY Nezha have too, but I can't find it so meh. The point still remains though. LMK Nezha are two different people, you're not making any sense to me about that argument. Even then, LMK isn't taking direct inspiration and putting their own twist. Who says anything needs to be accurate??

"The writer only said Nezha's an adult to ship lotuspeach!" Are you faintly aware people, actual Chinese people, have shipped these characters together? Proshippers can come from anywhere but I genuinely doubt every single person is a proshipper because of course, they're aware their god isn't an eternal child. On top of that, in a situation like this another writer would point out that Nezha ISN'T an adult. No one has argued against this claim, so why persist? Where's your logic coming from if not entitlement?

I want this to be the last time I have to talk about Nezha, because I made my blog to write porn and me smooching my favorite LMK characters. I kinda don't really like making discussions like this because that's not the point of my blog.

However...I do like rambling. A lot :)))

Anyways, point blank. LMK fandom needs to grow out of this entitled mindset and stop ignoring the facts from experts. You guys are just being annoying at this point.

My argument isn't really valid tbh, just pointless rambling because I only know basic information. I think you guys should find proper information from accounts online.

Also, if you're gonna argue: don't bring be albeist, racist etc etc. I'm capable of cussing you out without bringing up your mental health, race or identity :)))

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