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depravitycentral · 9 months

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Yandere! Kyojuro Rengoku General Profile

Yandere! Kyojuro Rengoku x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, violence, he breaks your fingers, Kyo feeds you bird-style and it's pretty gross and gnarly, delusions/detachment from reality, Stockholm Syndrome, masturbation, slight misogyny/traditional gender roles, forced motherhood, allusions to non-con, you and Kyo share a toothbrush ugh, lots of references to death, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE:

Caring

Similarly to most other Hashira, Kyojuro is greatly attracted to honest, genuine kindness.

His world is so full of hatred, death, and pain, and having a darling who is softer, sweeter, more empathetic makes his heart swell.

(And, occasionally, other things will swell when he sees his darling smiling or complimenting or speaking with children - but Kyojuro pays it no mind. So you shouldn’t, either.)

There’s just something so alluring about a darling who genuinely cares for the people around them - he himself is quite positive, if not blunt, and a darling who can match his philosophy of protecting and caring for those who need it would be a perfect match.

He likes the idea of a darling who has the best intentions of others’ at heart; it’s refreshing to see and interact with someone who is so pure and wonderfully kind, because while his fellow slayers are certainly committed to a good cause, his darling is different.

They’re naturally sweet, utterly unaware of the horrors of this world and yet still striving to make others smile, still trying to help undo any wrongs those around them have experienced.

This aspect of his darling is one of the first things he notices about them, and while he’s not a selfish man by any means, he’ll grow to absolutely love when this caring nature is directed at him, particular after long, difficult missions where he’s both physically and emotionally exhausted, only desiring to hold something soft and sweet and warm.

Coincidentally, something exactly like his darling.

Passionate

The specific passion itself is inconsequential – it doesn’t matter what his darling loves, as long as they love something.

He himself is driven by internal motivation and a righteousness to help others, and while his darling doesn’t need to be quite this serious, he likes the idea of them having goals and aspirations.

The most likely way this manifests itself within his darling is through a creative platform – art, music, culinary arts, writing, or any sort of activity in which his darling can express themselves.

He likes that his darling has something they truly enjoy, and he’s the type to want to learn about and indulge in his darling’s passion.

He’ll eagerly listen to everything they have to say, absorbing the information with wide, glittering eyes and a smile, trying so very hard to listen to their words but getting repeatedly distracted by how utterly adorable they look when they’re concentrating.

He can’t stop admiring the way they look when they’re discussing their passion, how happy they become, radiating a sort of joy and glow that only makes him fall harder and deeper, his obsession solidifying with every smile they give him.

And he’ll fully foster this passion of theirs – he’s got access to any resources his darling can dream of, easily providing them and enjoying the way their face lights up, how they become so grateful.

His only caveat is that he has to watch them as they work at their passion, getting a front row seat to watch them enjoy themselves, his bright eyes fixed on them the entire time because god, how are they so utterly perfect?

It’s endearing to Kyojuro because in his mind, his darling looks at him that way, too, with a smile and undying love.

Ambitious

Now, his darling doesn’t need to be ambitious in the sense that they take huge risks, or even that they have high expectations and goals for themselves.

It can manifest this way, sure, but the main core of why he finds this personality trait attractive is because it shows drive.

He likes a darling who has a strong sense of self; he doesn’t want to change his beloved in any way; he wants to be their pillar of support, to offer unwavering help and encouragement for whatever pursuits they’re chasing after, no matter how big or small.

He thinks it’s a wonderful thing to have dreams for the future, just as he does – he dreams of Senjuro once again having a happy family (one he hopes his darling will help provide), and of all demons being eradicated so that the world can live peacefully.

He’ll cherish and respect any dreams his darling possesses, but only if they don’t interfere with what he believes should happen.

He prioritizes his relationship with his darling above many things, and this includes what his darling wants most.

He will be expecting them to dutifully become his loving partner and wife, to bear his children and help him raise them, to be a guiding, loving hand to teach them morality, charity, and all sorts of other things that his darling hardly believes he possesses.

So while he’ll likely crush the ambitions his darling possesses, the mere fact that they have ambitions is attractive to him.

Talkative

It’s not that Kyojuro can’t fall for a quieter darling, but rather that he wants someone who will match his chattiness.

He’s naturally quite loud, truly a boisterous man who loves to interact with others.

He’s constantly peppering his darling with questions, his voice a steady flow as he just talks and talks and talks, throwing compliments and them alongside grandiose declarations of love, all intermixed with small talk about the weather or the flowers on the sides of the village pathways, or even about the pretty birds flying in the sky.

He just likes interacting with his darling, and he needs someone that is willing to return his eagerness to talk.

He likes the way his darling’s attention stays on him when he’s speaking to them; how their eyes stay fixed on his form, how they nod along to his words, how they laugh at his outlandish, unbelievable claims and logic, how they just simply acknowledge him, making him feel comfortable and seen and wanted.

Kyojuro will want to spend hours talking with his darling, and he needs someone who can match this energy. He needs a darling who can pepper him with their own questions, who can keep the conversation flowing and keep the interaction alive.

Besides, Kyojuro has this unwavering, unsatiable curiosity for his beloved, one that can only be partially quelled when his darling is revealing more and more about themselves.

And he’ll eagerly listen, mentally storing away each new piece of information, remembering absolutely everything because everything about his darling is important, something that must be remembered and cherished and worshipped.

They’re just perfect, and if they’re naturally chatty, it only furthers his obsession.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Delusional

Generally speaking, from the moment that Kyojuro’s feelings for you fully form, he’s absolutely, utterly under the impression that every emotion, desire and draw he feels towards you is returned fully. He honestly believes that you’re just as in love as he is, that the connection he’s so acutely aware of between the both of you is mutual, that you’re just as desperate and eager to be his partner, his lover, his wife and the woman he’ll spend the rest of his life with.

He doesn’t have any real romantic experience - he’s been attracted to women before, sure, but he’s never courted someone before you simply because when he courts, he intends to wed.

And as a result, his only real reference for romance is his own parents’ relationship. And while it was loving, beautiful, healthy while his mother was still alive, time and his changing father have left Kyojuro with a bit of a warped view of love.

And this is where his delusions stem from - he’s confident, desperate for you to return the passionate feelings he holds for you, and he manages to convince himself of your growing love for him every day.

He’s so sure, in fact, that even as his obsession with you forms (slowly, as he’s a bit picky about partners and can be a bit oblivious even towards his own feelings), so do the beginnings of his detachment from reality. As he slowly begins realizing that he enjoys being in your presence more than most other people, your smiles and greetings of oh hello Rengoku, I didn’t know you’d be here will seem more and more like you expressing your glee at having him by your side rather than a simple, platonic welcome.

As he realizes that hearing you laugh makes his palms sweat and his heart race, he begins thinking your laugh is really for him, that your chuckles are stronger when they’re directed at him than compared to others.

He’s imagining your pretty face lighting up with that radiant smile behind closed eyes when he’s falling asleep at night, and slowly he begins concluding that your every quirk of the lip towards him must mean that you’re happy with him, that his presence alone fills you with a sort of joy that you simply can’t hide.

(And, perhaps you know that it’s you that fills his thoughts at night – maybe you’re purposefully plaguing his thoughts, trying to tell him something - perhaps you want him to think of you and your lovely mouth, the way your lips look when you say his name, how your tongue flicks out to wet them just so…)

It’s mostly innocent in the beginning; his delusions manifest more as simply misreading the signals you send him, honest mistakes that aren’t too uncommon – but, as the relationship (or, at least the one Kyojuro is trying so very hard cultivate) progresses, these slips in judgment become more and more profound, more and more difficult to ignore.

When he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest as he inhales deeply and enthusiastically greets you in a voice just a bit too breathy for your liking, Kyojuro sees your discreet attempts at ending the far-too-long hug as you merely trying to get comfortable.

Surely you just want to feel more of his body against your own, or want him to be closer so that there’s nothing separating you from him, from the love he’s oh so willing to give you.

When you bite your lip and avert your gaze as you politely ask him to stop staring at you so much and following you home, Kyojuro will simply smile, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving you a firm don’t worry, I don’t mind protecting you! It’s my place as a Hashira, after all, so don’t needlessly fret!

He honestly doesn’t understand why you’re not as happy as he is, and frankly he can’t even really fathom the idea that you aren’t happy – how can he, when he’s been searching for so many years for a partner to love and spoil?

How can he, when your body just seems to perfectly fit against his own, your voice like honey and your name a drug as it slips from his lips?

How can he, when he’s seen his father so harshly decline, when the memory of his mother is still so fresh, when he wants so badly to build a family of his own, to give Senjuro another family to call his?

How can he, when you become the sole reason he begins valuing his own life during missions, not being as reckless because he needs to come home to you - you need your lover and husband, of course.

(In more ways than one - who will protect you? Provide for you? Pleasure you?)

Kyojuro honestly latches onto you, his every thought and emotion revolving around you you you, to the point where even once he’s locked you away, deep inside the Rengoku residence with your shared bed and lovely, expensive new kimonos neatly folded in stacks upon stacks (all in shades of reds and golds, of course, to signify your status with him), he still won’t recognize that you’re always crying because you’re scared.

He won’t realizethat you flinch when he touches you because you don’t want him anywhere near you.

He won’t connect the dots that you spend each and every night curled up in a ball weeping because you just want to go home, please Kyojuro, please…

Try as he may, he just can’t fathom that you aren’t as madly, desperately in love – so don’t bother, really, because it’s much more hassle than it’s worth, and in the end he’ll get what he wants. He always will get what he wants, so why don’t you just give in?

He’ll never let you go, never believe any of your pleas to be freed from him, so why don’t you just accept his love?

Protective

Honestly, your personal combat abilities are irrelevant - in Kyojuro’s mind, you’re weak. Defenseless. Laughably unable to keep yourself safe and out of trouble - incapable, even, though it sounds a bit harsh.

He believes that you’re too fragile and sweet and wonderful to be anywhere near a demon, a human with bad intentions, or anything of the sort.

Your strengths lie not in battle, but in your charm and beauty - you’re so sweet, your words melting him like butter and leaving him as putty in your hands, his heart doing backflips in his chest as his fingers twitch to do anything and everything just to keep you smiling.

Your talents lie in the way you effortlessly intrigue him; your words ensnaring his attention no matter the topic, your touch sending electricity up his spine, even your most mundane actions making him stop and stare because every little thing you do is important.

You simply aren’t made for the battlefield, or for confrontation in general - he’s sure of it, and he’s arguably the most trustworthy source of judgment you could find. He’s a seasoned Hashira, seen more death than you can imagine, slaughtered more demons than you can count, so could he really be wrong in his assessment of your abilities?

He sees you as a bit of a baby, in all honesty, because while he’s more than aware of your womanly charms (the not so subtle way his eyes rake over your figure when he forces you to bathe with him is enough to convince you of that, if the way his hands ghost over the bulge of his trousers when you speak to him wasn’t enough), he still can’t shake the paranoia that you’ll one day be hurt.

He’s terrified that you can’t really take care of yourself as well as he can. And frankly, the paranoia isn’t unfounded – it’s difficult to fault him for his overprotectiveness when you think of his past, how often he sees death, and how often he’s the cause of it.

He’s too accustomed to seeing others’ lives lost, and he absolutely refuses to allow you the same fate, so long as he’s breathing and has enough finger strength to grip his sword and send air rushing through his lungs.

He’s determined to a disturbing degree to keep you safe; with every demon he decapitates, internally he’s sighing in relief because that’s one less monster that could potentially sink their claws into you - every demon dead is a step towards keeping you safe, healthy, alive, his.

He’s patronizing in an odd way, because while he doubts your capabilities, he doesn’t treat you like you’re a child. He’s just hovering, always, with his eyes glued to you and that same unnerving, wide smile on his lips that never seems to go away when you’re around him.

His gaze is wide and excited as he sees how you bring the bowl of soup to your lips to sip, the intensity of the way he watches making your hands tremble and a bit of the hot soup spill down to your chest.

He’ll let you feed yourself - for now - but as soon as you flinch, the heat and wetness making you cringe as you get up to clean yourself, he’s on you – a flash of yellow and red as he tut-tuts and uses the sleeve of his haori to wipe up the mess, a thumb against your lip and his face much too close to yours as he tells you to be careful, don’t hurt yourself, my flame.

He’s not letting you touch anything with sharp edges, for fear that you’ll trip and cut yourself, nor does he allow you permission to speak to anyone new that he hasn’t already extensively vetted in his own way.

(This comprises mostly of just simply observing someone, and the moment he sees something even slightly unfavorable - like a snarky comment or even having their hair be messy - he’s deciding that they’re not good enough to interact with you - you’re better than them, and speaking with them would only taint you, bringing you down from the pedestal he places you on.)

He’s controlling, not allowing anyone into your life that isn’t himself, to the point that he’ll simply show up the second another man or woman begins speaking with you, a strong arm around your waist with fingers digging in much harsher than they should, that familiar smile tight on his lips.

He’s terrified that he’ll one day lose you, and in a lot of ways keeping you safe is his own way of living up to the expectations of his mother.

You’re weak, so damn weak, and you need someone to care for you, to be there for you and take care of you in your time of need, and Kyojuro is more than happy to take on the role, to take responsibility of your life and safety.

It’s a bit overwhelming, how he’s always offering to do tasks for you, interrupting you halfway through to take over with that broad grin of his, that laugh and a rambunctious what kind of lover would I be if I didn’t carry your groceries for you making it difficult to stop him.

And really, eventually you’ll get to the point of relenting and letting him to do as he pleases, because as much as the man may intimidate you, scare you or disturb you, there’s just something about his desperation to please you that’ll get you feeling oddly flattered, flustered simply because of the lengths he’s willing to go.

Because really, while it may scare you how his hand always seems to find a place at your hip, don’t all the stories and movies have chivalrous male leads helping guide the girl through crowded areas, a steady hand to help keep them grounded, just as Kyojuro does?

Sure, it’s weird how he knows the order from every restaurant in town that you like, how he’s always able to show up at just the right time with a steaming bowl of udon or whatever you’re feeling, but doesn’t it feel nice to be cared for, that he thought of you and made the stop to buy you something?

It may be disturbing how he gulps and smiles wider every time he sees you bend over, but isn’t it flattering to know that he finds your body attractive?

He won’t allow you to place a finger on anything or anyone that could hurt you, so you’d better get used to the life of a pampered housewife – because while it will take him a long while to allow you to cook with any sort of heat, there’s something oddly therapeutic about being your big, strong partner that provides for you, while you keep his bed and heart warm, all with that natural charm he finds so alluring.

Clingy

Because Kyojuro’s perceptions of your relationship aren’t exactly realistic, he’ll come off as extremely, extremely needy to you. But it’s in a strange way – he’s not constantly clinging onto you, needing your reassurance and needing your eyes to stay focused entirely on him.

(He certainly won’t discourage this kind of behavior, of course, but he isn’t that outwardly desperate, and he isn’t the type to physically grasp your chin to keep you looking at him. He’ll perhaps grasp your hand or your waist to keep you at his hip, but he’s not quite that blatant.)

Instead, his clinginess manifests in how he’s simply always around you.

His presence will become a constant in your life – you’d be hard pressed to not see those familiar blond and red locks in your peripheral, or to hear that booming voice ringing in your ears. It would be difficult to find yourself in a public situation where Kyojuro isn’t standing diligently at your side, that blinding smile spread across his face, turning just a bit softer and a bit more earnest when it’s aimed at you.

Really, he simply hates being away from you. Not having you within his sight makes him nervous, anxiety itching at his stomach because where are you?

It’s not possessiveness, not a paranoia that you could be talking to other men, but rather an honest, genuine, horrible fear that you could be hurt, that someone could’ve taken you and injured you and touched you and possibly even have killed you.

And frankly, the fear isn’t too unfounded – you’ll understand why he's always rushing to you, literally running to catch up with you when you wander away from him, a steady hand pressing into your back as he pulls you into a hug, the faint smell of woodsmoke and musk filling your nose as the hard planes of his chest press against you.

It’s understandable, so you won’t really wonder why he’s always insisting on accompanying you every free moment he has, his presence acting as your shadow but much, much louder. It might make you uncomfortable, sure, because having someone always by your side is a little disorienting and overwhelming at times, but you’ll tolerate it – how can you tell Kyojuro no, anyway?

He’s so radiant when he’s giving you that smile, his eyes sparkling and his hands soft and gentle as he grasps onto yours, telling you that he’s so excited, we must try the new ramen shop down the street! I’ll order your favorite, you needn’t remind me what it is! I think we should share one, and perhaps a second or third…

(It’s probably not worth mentioning to him that you never even told him what your favorite is, he just seemed to know it, a fact that initially unnerved you, but you’ve found that guessing what you’ll like seems to be a talent of his. It’s not, of course, because he’s spent hours talking with any family members or friends of yours to learn every possible scrap of information about you that he can, introducing himself as your fiancé and charming them enough to get even the most sensitive secrets out of them, including your menstrual patterns, your bathing routine, even your temperament as a child because he’s convinced it will give him insight into the temperaments of your future – and inevitable – children together.)

You’ll disregard his penchant for always staying by your side in the beginning, but as time progresses it’ll become more difficult to let his behavior roll off your back.

Accompanying you to the market is fine, but you’ll bite your lip and find the courage to speak up when he ends up straying a good five feet behind you, his bright eyes burning holes into the back of your head as he keeps pace with you.

(When you turn around to ask him why he’s not walking with you, but rather trailing behind you like some sort of stalker, he’ll just laugh and tell you in that familiar, boisterous voice that he can protect you better this way! Besides, the view from this angle is excellent! Dissecting that last comment will only make you more uncomfortable, so you simply nod and keep walking, picking up your pace and desperately wishes you’d be arriving sooner.)

Him wanting to meet all your friends and acquaintances is fine, but when he’s pushing his way into the conversation and snaking an arm around your waist, you’ll feel just as awkward as your companions, disturbed by the casual manner with which Kyojuro handles you.

(This almost always leads to the assumption that the two of you are together, which you’ll frantically shake your head to, spouting some nonsense about being just friends that makes Kyojuro’s brows cock inwards, sending a glance at you with quizzical eyes. Just friends? You are certainly friends, but you’re more than that – friends don’t daydream about each other, and friends certainly don’t spend nights with ragged breaths, bucking hips, and the other’s name slipping from their lips like a prayer.)

He’s just a lot, and while you knew this from the beginning, time will only increase his behavior, pushing him more and more into spending time with you, into writing you letters while he’s away on a mission (they’re mostly detailing how much he misses you, telling you of each object and person that reminded him of you, and while it would be sweet, the sheer volume and frequency of these letters will make you loathed to open them), even into pushing past your boundaries and being much, much too familiar with you.

(You’ll bid him goodnight after he’s walked you home from the meal he insisted you share, but he doesn’t seem to get the hint and instead waltzes straight into your modest home, settling himself at your tableside and beaming at you, telling you to join me, my flame, I wish to hear about your deepest desires! He won’t insist on staying the night, as that would be too inappropriate for a not yet married couple – which he seems to be insinuating the two of you are – and will eventually take his leave, but not before gently grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss against your knuckles that’s much, much too wet, and far too long.)

His clinginess can be suffocating, of course, but once you’re stuck with him, forced to live in the Rengoku estate and call him your husband?

Well, if you thought he was needy before, it’s nothing compared to the way he treats you then – constantly wandering hands (concentrated mostly at your waist, hips, and squeezing your thighs), compliments that toe the line between heartfelt and disturbing (you are so very beautiful, particularly when you’re asleep – did you know that you smell a certain way when you’re unconscious? It’s sweet, like ripe fruit; I wish to smell it at all times), and those eyes always, always focused on you.

Every free moment he has goes into attending to you, whether you want it or not, so don’t even bother trying to get some distance from the Flame Pillar.

He will invade your space and he will not be regretful, his delusions most often barring him from even realizing that you’re uncomfortable.

He’s simply a man who ardently admires and desires you, and at the end of the day, you can’t even really blame him. Because, as they say, love makes one do crazy things, and he’s certainly, certainly in love with you.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

When it comes to jealousy, Kyojuro is surprisingly relatively unaffected, all things considered.

He’s not someone who’s biting at your heels the moment another man spares you a glance, and while he obviously doesn’t like the way other men interact with you, he’s not nearly as suffocating regarding his possessiveness as some of his fellow Hashira.

He tends to give others the benefit of the doubt, and while he’s still very protective over you and would immediately step in if another man posed a threat to your safety or comfort, he doesn’t automatically assume that any man who interacts with you has nefarious intent.

And so, he doesn’t immediately grow jealous and snarl at any man stupid enough to come within a few feet of you – he’s not as depraved, at least in that sense.

(In others, absolutely, but if Kyojuro has one redeeming quality, it’s his judgement of character.)

However, this isn’t because of some moral high ground the Pillar possesses, or a firm sense of lucidity – in fact, it’s quite the opposite, as his delusions drive most of his indifference regarding other men giving you attention.

He’s so, so confident in the idea that you’re meant for one another that he honestly doesn’t even register that you could interested in another man, that you could be stolen away from him willingly, that you could fall in love with anyone but the Flame Hashira himself.

He just doesn’t get it, and so he isn’t as suffocating as he could be in these situations – no, not by a long shot, something you’re admittedly equal parts lucky and unlucky for.

Because really, while you won’t have to deal with the isolation that comes with extreme levels of possessiveness, being Kyojuro’s darling is certainly not an easy ride – how can it be, when he’s so blatantly unaware of the signs in front of him that a man is coming on to you, that he’s smiling and flirting with you and reaching out to brush the hair away from your eyes while you bashfully grin and laugh at his lame jokes?

How can you not be unsettled with the way he’s so unaffected, always spouting nonsense about how in love you two are, how perfect of a match you are, how no man would ever dare take you away from me – how could anyone break such a real bond of love?

It’s disturbing, and as time passes slowly you’ll come to realize that while he won’t drag you kicking and screaming away from another man trying to get more than familiar with you, the alternative of watching him broadcast what he perceives to be your ‘relationship’ to every stranger who makes eye contact with you will get old very quickly, the feeling of him almost trying to show you off making your skin crawl and a cold sweat break out over your hairline.

Kyojuro isn’t subtle, not in the least, which is why the minute another man approaches you, you should be ready – the embarrassment will be thick, as will the discomfort of everyone involved (except the Hashira himself, of course).

So you might as well stop trying to converse with other people – after all, Kyojuro has no problem acting on his intuition, so won’t you just not give him a reason to be so extravagant?

The moment the man in the small market stall shoots you a shy smile and approaches you, there’s already a sinking feeling settling in your gut, the knowledge that your self-proclaimed ‘lover’ is only a few stalls down making you bite your lip in anxiety.

He’s polite, by all accounts – full lips a pleasant pink color ask you about your opinion on the newest shipment of melons, the fruit laid out in front of you in a pleasing display. There’s a respectful distance of a few feet between your bodies, and his voice is soft, calming, the complete opposite of the boisterous, loud slayer you’ve come to be so close with. It’s refreshing, and you shoot him a smile as well as you point to a certain melon on the display.

This one looks ripe – you can tell, you know, by the markings on the fruit. The more yellow spots, the better the texture will be.

The man’s still looking at you, but his gaze shifts to the fruit as he nods in agreement. He laughs a bit, then reaches out to pick up the melon. I’ll trust your advice, then.

The interaction is somewhat short, sweet and innocent, and though you get the feeling that the man finds you attractive (the light blush on his cheeks tells you as much), you don’t feel particularly uncomfortable.

But all too soon the peace of the moment is ending, and a familiar call of your name has your spine stiffening, your throat bobbing as you heavily swallow. The call comes again, and all too soon there’s an unfortunately familiar hand settling on your waist, Kyojuro’s muscular arm wrapping around your body and pulling you flush against his side.

Being so close in public would normally embarrass you, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when you know what’s coming.

My flame, who is this? A friend of yours? Kyojuro asks, and before you can open your mouth to answer, the stranger does.

Oh, um, I’m Takeru.

He’s visibly uncomfortable, and as you try to subtly squirm out of the slayer’s grasp, Kyojuro’s smile only widens.

He nods his head lightly, his smile growing even brighter. A pleasure to meet you, Takeru! I am Kyojuro Rengoku, thank you for helping keep her safe at this busy market place!

The man – Takeru – shifts awkwardly, unsure how to respond to such a strange comment, but it doesn’t seem to stop your unwanted companion.

You see, she has such a habit of wandering away in crowded places, and it makes it hard to keep an eye on her! You’d be amazed at how often I’ve seen her trip and fall in places like these!

He laughs at that, and you feel a new kind of embarrassment eat away at you. Does he really need to be sharing all this information?

Yes, it’s very crowded, Takeru agrees, and you silently send him a pleading look. He blinks at you, discomfort clearly swimming in the black depths of his dark eyes, and internally you beg Kyojuro to just drag you both away from the stranger.

She can be so forgetful, but that’s the wonderful thing about love! Despite her clumsiness, she is still graceful and elegant to me, and that’s a sign of true love, wouldn’t you agree?

Takeru nods, hesitantly, and you grit your teeth.

Kyojuro sighs dreamily from beside you, squeezing you even tighter against his side. And I do love her, of course! She is my soulmate, the future mother of my children, and every time I gaze at her, my devotion only grows deeper!

You’re visibly embarrassed now, trying to cover your face and desperately willing the interaction to just be over, but Kyojuro doesn’t seem to hear your silent prayers.

He grabs your wrist gently, his lips pressing kisses against the inside of your wrist, and immediately you’re eyes grow wide. Surely he wouldn’t, not in a public setting –

He cuts your thoughts off with a press of his lips against yours, the groan that he releases against you making you shiver in anything but pleasure. Your eyes are still open, and you see Takeru staring with a dropped jaw, evidently shocked at Kyojuro’s blatant display of affection.

Your brows furrow, and as he slips his tongue past your lips, you find yourself only able to focus on the way Kyojuro is growing louder, his groans getting more pronounced as the kiss grows hungrier, more desperate, feeling less like a tender, heartfelt sign of love.

After a good two minutes he finally pulls away, your lips feeling sticky and wet from his saliva. He stares down at you with heady eyes, his tongue licking his lips as he whispers your name under his breath.

You go to say his name, to ask him if you can just leave the market, but he cuts you off with a laugh.

Oh my flame, where did Takeru go? We must have scared him off with our display of passion! My sincere hopes that he’ll one day find a love like ours.

You very much don’t wish that, but as Kyojuro grasps your hand and guides you to the edge of the market place, passing through the spot Takeru had departed from during your sudden and overtly steamy kiss, you’ll find yourself sighing.

The blatant act of romance was unwarranted and unwanted, of course, but somehow your lips are tingling, your heart racing in shamefulness and something else – something that grows stronger and Kyojuro turns to look back at you, a grin stretching across his lips, his cheeks tinted pink as he gazes at you.

It’s wrong and you’ll hate it, every part of you screaming to not be fooled by the boyish look he’s giving you; he’s a slayer, a grown man who very clearly doesn’t understand that you are not future spouses, that you are not in love.

You’ll hate yourself for it, but even as he leads you back to your home, guiding you and not letting your hand go the whole way (even though you you’re very familiar with the route and don’t need his navigational help), you’ll find yourself almost, almost wishing he’d kiss you again – just not in front of a stranger this time.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Because he’s on the more delusional side, Kyojuro’s view of your relationship is warped.

He’s already eager in the context of romantic relationships, but in yours, specifically, he’s rushing through all the steps, too excited to get that gold ring on your finger and his last name replacing yours to really take his time with you.

And this becomes problematic particularly because you will have no idea, at least at first, that the Flame Hashira believes you’re courting one another, that it’s simply a matter of time before you’re keeping his bed warm and nursing his children.

And because of this quick timeline of your relationship, Kyojuro is actually quite quick to propose living together. Of course, it’s a bit taboo to be living under the same roof before you’re wed, but he’s willing to bend the traditional rules a bit if you put up any sort of opposition.

If you decline his blatant requests to live with him, he won’t relent. Initially, he’ll bluntly ask you in the middle of a shared meal if you’d like to move your belongings into the Rengoku mansion - I can have a few servants come to assist in the moving process, if you’d like, and of course I’ll be there to help carry anything heavy!

When you stare at him like he’s grown two heads, he’ll be a little confused, and curiously asks you why you seem to be shocked.

When you honestly respond, at a loss as to why he’s asking you to live with him when you’re very, very firmly just friends, Kyojuro will only laugh in response, his hand coming down to slap his knee because oh, you’re so funny, you sweet, coy little thing.

He’ll drop the subject that day, moving on to ask you about your thoughts about the weather or your favorite color or anything at all, greedy to hear your voice and bask in your attention.

But the next day, when he suddenly pops out of nowhere and accompanies you on your walk into town to buy a few necessities, the question is prompted once more.

I only have two separate futons, but I’m sure we could push them together! Similarly, I only have two blankets, but I’m sure my body heat will keep you warm!

You’ll be confused, giving yourself just a hair more distance between your bodies (he’d gotten very close without you noticing), throwing him a glance and worryingly asking what are you talking about?

He’s so nonchalant when he answers our sleeping arrangements, of course that it makes you wonder if you’ve missed something, if you’re somehow not in the loop because when the fuck did you agree to sleep in the same room as him, much less in such a position where you could feel his body heat?

You’ll negate his questions and try to change the topic once more, but Kyojuro is relentless - everyday there will be a new question of when you’ll inevitably be living together, and with every day he gets more and more restless to finally have you in his arms as he sleeps, to come home to you after long missions, to relish in the sight of you peacefully reading or crafting in the morning sun, wearing his clothing and smelling like him.

He’s a patient man, yes, but even Kyojuro has his limits - and he finally reaches this limit when one day he can’t seem to find you anywhere.

It’s like you’ve disappeared off the face of the Earth - he’d wanted to spend some time with you (really, he’d just finished his allotted training for the day and had been idly daydreaming about holding your hand the whole time, and was now in desperate need of finding you to intertwine your fingers with his), but your home was empty and none of your neighbors seemed to remember seeing you leave.

Immediately worry is eating away at him, because his sole job as your future lover and husband is to keep tabs on you and protect you, and he’d been too busy focusing on himself and getting stronger to fulfill his duty.

He searches for you in all the common spots he knows you visit, and with each empty location his desperation gets a bit more extreme, his panic slowly engulfing him because where the fuck could you be?

Eventually he’s sprinting around the general area you reside in, running mile after mile as his smile slips away and his entire body grows sweaty, his heart racing and even a few tears threatening to well in his eyes because he can’t stomach the thought that you’ve been hurt somehow, that someone has stolen you, that you’re simply gone.

It’s not until the evening that he eventually stumbles upon you, your pretty kimono stained with a bit of dirt as the bottom hem and your shoulders a bit slumped from the heavy bag slung over them, your limbs aching from the long journey it’d taken to visit a friend a few villages over.

He happens to run by you along the path, and immediately he’s stopping and staring, his chest visibly heaving, his eyes wide and vulnerable as he blinks, pinching himself to make sure this is real, that you’re really standing in front of him, that you haven’t been devoured like he’d been imagining.

But all too soon he’s rushing forward, the wind knocked out of your lungs as he tackles you to the ground, clutching you against his chest as he bombards you with questions, slurred and rushed as he asks if you’re okay, are you hurt? Where were you? Why didn’t you tell me you’d be gone today? Did you speak to anyone? Did anyone touch you? Were you scared without me?

He’s speaking so quickly and loudly into your ear that you can’t even get a response in, his voice slightly uneven and betraying the influx of emotion swimming through his chest. He’ll pull back to gaze at you, thumbs brushing over your cheek, before smiling softly and pressing a soft, long kiss to your forehead, whispering to you that you’ll be safe now, my love, forever.

Then it all goes black, and you wake up dressed in a much too nice kimono, sleeping in an ornate room in a futon you don’t recognize, familiar eyes trained on your form as his seated figure watches you slowly wake up beside him.

As a captor, Kyojuro is mostly just suffocating.

Because he still heavily believes in the delusions he’s been nursing since the beginning of his infatuation with you, he doesn’t see anything wrong with what he’s done. He doesn’t see his relocation of you as kidnapping, nor does he understand why you seem so unhappy to be with him.

It was inevitable that you’d be sharing the same home and bed, didn’t you know?

Why do you seem so surprised when he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you flush against his body, spooning you and sighing your name into your ear with just a bit too much reverence?

Why are you flinching away from him when he pulls you close for a kiss, his calloused fingers gently grasping your chin as he whispers between wet, loud kisses that he loves you, that he’s more in love with you than you could possibly imagine, my flame, you are my light in eternal darkness.

He’s sappy and too much and always hovering around you, his presence smothering you in every sense of the word. He’s clingy and needy, always wanting to be watching you and simply observe you, because even though he now spends nearly every hour of every day he has off in your presence, everything you do is still special to him, interesting and wonderful and important, and he has no sense of boundaries.

He will be standing close to you, practically breathing down your neck. He will ask you all sorts of personal questions, ranging from things like your greatest fears and most embarrassing moments to your menstrual cycle and which spots feel best when you’re touching yourself to the thought of him.

(He assumes you must pleasure yourself while thinking of him, because he does, too, religiously, every night, your pretty face and voice and body at the forefront of his thoughts as he paints his fist white over and over and over.)

He doesn’t see any reason why there should be any sort of barriers between the two of you, because you’re soulmates - made for one another, destined to spend your lives together, your fates irrefutably intertwined and brought together by the unyielding, passionate love you possess for one another.

And, unfortunately, this lack of barriers manifests itself in some pretty undesirable ways - you’ll be sharing one singular toothbrush, for example, Kyojuro insisting that it’s romantic and sweet and becoming of a young couple to share everything with one another, even their saliva.

He’s having the two of you share undergarments; they’re all made of soft, smooth cloth, in a variety of neutral colors that he’ll wear for the day, then shuffle up your legs the next day, smiling and licking his lips because the fabric that spent all day pressed up against him is now pressed up against you.

(And, on days where you’re particularly unlucky, sometimes Kyojuro lets his thoughts run a bit wild once he’s wearing them, his eyes fluttering closed as he imagines you and subtly ruts against his palm as he waits for nightfall in the small village his next mission is in, the time passing slowly until he’s gasping your name and staining the undergarment with wet warmth, already giddy and excited to have you wear them tomorrow, unwashed.)

He’ll even sometimes share food - and not in a sweet, romantic way, but rather in a raw, connected way; he’ll take a bit of food and chew it, then press his lips against yours and push it into your mouth, encouraging you to chew as well, before eventually kissing you once more and swallowing it all himself, his grin nearly blinding because now he’s eaten both the meal and you, or at least a bit of your spit.

He’s just weird, and while he’s constantly showering you in compliments and spoiling you with anything and everything under the sun, it’ll be hard to adjust to this new, strange lifestyle simply because he doesn’t really allow you time to adjust.

He’s expecting everything to be sunshine and roses from the moment you wake up as a freshly kidnapped darling, his expectations high that you’ll be pliant and willing and happy to learn that you’re finally, finally together.

And while it takes a lot of disobedience from you to snap him out of his rose colored view of you, Kyojuro is doing everything in his power to make sure that your relationship is perfect, that he’s taking good care of you and loving you as he should.

Which leads to another important aspect of being his darling - he doesn’t see women is inferior in any way (Shinobu and Mitsuri alone have dispelled that image), but he likes the idea of you being his housewife, fulfilling traditionally feminine duties.

He likes the idea of you taking care of the home, making sure dinner is cooked and served for him in the evening (he’ll often send a crow your way when he’s heading home after missions, just so that you can prepare for his arrival - normally, this means a meal and very little clothing adorning your frame, so that he can feast on your delicious food and then your delicious body), and attending to his every need as he does you.

He likes the idea of you keeping the mansion clean and eagerly awaiting his return home when he’s away, your devotion to him keeping you motivated to make sure everything is perfectly in order for him.

He’s trying for children very, very early on, his thrusts slow, deep and meaningful as he kisses you and promises that this will finally be the load that takes, because the mere idea of you swollen with his child and needing his help to do things even as simple as sitting down makes him giddy and unbearably excited.

And he doesn’t want just one child - oh no, he wants many, as many as you’re willing to give him.

He wants the perfect family with you, and as your captor, he won’t try to hide this wish. You will be made aware that he wants you to dote on him, that he wants you to spread your legs and conceive his child, that he wants you you you.

(He’s discussing potential names with you within the first week of having kidnapped you, his fingers idly tracing over your stomach as he tells you that the first born must be named Shinjuro, then perhaps we’ll have a daughter, and she can be named Hana! But we must also have some named Takeru, Ucharo, Nakagome, Watabe, and of course Shigeru! And after that, if you have any names in mind, we can surely name the following children them!)

Kyojuro isn’t necessarily bad, per se, as he does genuinely spoil you and give you all the time and attention and physical affection he can, but you’ll feel weighed down, crushed, drowning in the way he always seems to take and take from you.

But eventually, you will grow dependent on him - how can you not? He’s still so sweet with all the compliments he gives you (a little deranged, perhaps, but the sentiment is there), the reverence in his eyes when he gazes at you, the gentleness and eagerness in his touch when he has his hands on you.

He’s complicated, yes, but life with him will be so very simple - just bend to his whims, and perhaps you’ll even enjoy the way he hugs you so tightly it nearly hurts, or how he limits the number of servants who are allowed to speak with you - he just loves you, and is it so wrong to enjoy being loved?

PUNISHMENTS:

As his darling, you’re somewhat lucky that Kyojuro is as delusional as he is, if only because it keeps him mostly blind to any misbehavior and attitude you can throw at him.

Of course, he has his limits, but in general he’s able to write off any snarky comments of yours or slight attempts to put distance between the two of you as you simply you trying to be funny, barking out a laugh and moving even closer to you, pressing into your space even more, making sure there’s not an inch of space between your bodies.

Or, sometimes, he interprets your very blatant rebellions against him as you simply trying to test his resolve – he thinks you’re trying to force him into showing just how deeply he loves you, as if you’re testing just how strong his feelings for you are.

And while he finds this just the slightest bit offensive (you’re doubting his love for you – his passion for you; can you not tell that his heart beats only for you? Can you not see that alongside his duty to the Corp, you’re the reason he breaths, the reason he wakes up in the morning, the reason he’s alive?), it mostly serves as motivation for him to love you harder, to become more expressive with his feelings.

It pushes him to hug you tighter, his fingers nearly leaving bruises with the strength of his grip around you, the hugs going much longer and getting more intimate, if the brush of something big and hard against your thigh is any indication.

It pushes him to compliment you more, the words falling from his lips with such conviction that it’ll almost make you flustered, if the content wasn’t so unnerving.

(There’s lots of you are so beautiful, my flame, but there’s also a lot of you look so peaceful in your sleep, it makes me want to lock you away forever and keep you mine and deep inhales followed by your scent sets me on fire, my love, you don’t know what you do to me.)

He views most of your rebellions as simply you trying to catch his attention, perhaps being a sign that you feel you’re being neglected by all the missions he must leave you and attend to.

And frankly, Kyojuro doesn’t blame you – he wishes he could give you more attention too, because although he feels his job is wildly fulfilling and the morally correct thing to do, a more selfish part of his heart yearns to spend his days with you in his hands instead of his sword, your body curled up against his while he keeps you warm and tells you how deeply he loves you.

And because of all the different avenues he employs to simply disregard any negative behavior from you, punishments with Kyojuro are extremely rare. It takes quite a bit to push him into reality for even a brief moment, to force him to come face to face with the fact that you aren’t happy and that you don’t love him.

He only has a few triggers that can be powerful enough to force him into this mindset – you harming yourself, and you attempting to escape.

When you injure yourself, it’s difficult to rationalize why you would have done that, but he’s normally able to scold you (with condescending words and tone, that same smile stretched across his lips), telling you to be more careful and let me prepare your bath next time, all burns from hot water must be avoided in the future! But you trying to escape is not so easy to twist into a pleasing fantasy of his.

It’s much harder to understand why you’re ceaselessly trying to break open the windows of the estate, to the point where your knuckles bleed and your elbows bruise. It’s harder to understand why you try to work at the lock keeping the main doors sealed, your poor fingernails splitting and aching from all the tugging and pulling.

He’s not sure why you’re going through so much trouble – surely there must be easier ways to get his attention. Surely there must be less painful and pitiful methods to get him fawning over you and proving his dedication to you – so why aren’t you taking them? Why are you choosing this difficult path, one that makes him apprehensive to leave you alone for more than thirty seconds?

(Not that that’s the only reason he’s hesitant to leave you alone – his clinginess and desire for your physical touch is the bulk majority – but it’s still a major player.)

And when he asks you, with his arms wrapped around your abdomen, your own arms flailing and your legs kicking at anything you can reach, your answer will have him pausing for a moment, an unwelcome feeling of reality washing back over him.

Because I hate being here, I want to go home! Please, let me go home!

His spine goes straight at that, his eyes widening ever so slightly, your punches and kicks to his shoulders and thighs doing nothing to faze him. You want… to go home? But aren’t you already home, by his side?

His grip tightens on you, a sort of displeased hum ringing in your ears. He’s carrying you away from the front doors and down the convoluted hallways of the estate, his grip on you never weakening.

Your words repeat over and over in his head, each replay confusing him more and more. You aren’t happy being here? With him? He bites his lip, bright eyes glancing down at you in his arms, with big tears slipping down your cheeks and your shoulders shaking with poorly concealed sobs.

This doesn’t seem like an attempt at gaining his attention – why would you go through such lengths? In all his time of falling in love with you, he’s never known you to be such a good actor.

Your tears look real, as does the sound of your voice when you whisper his name and weakly pound your fist against his chest, begging him to let me go home, I can’t be here any longer, I can’t stand it!

He sets you down onto the bed of the bedroom he’s brought you into – the bedroom where he forces you to sleep beside him, your nightclothes sticking to your skin with the heat that radiates from his body and the sheer proximity his forced cuddling creates.

He’ll watch as you scramble away from him, curling your knees to your chest and looking up at him with such raw, pained eyes, and for a moment it makes Kyojuro’s heart clench, genuine regret rushing through him.

Has he made you this upset? Is he the reason for your anguish? It makes something heavy and uncomfortable settle into his chest, and it’s that driving force that pushes him to come closer to you, matching your every scoot away from him with a step towards you.

Eventually your back hits the wall and he kneels before you, his face mere inches from your own.

Tell me, my flame, why are you so displeased?

His question makes you gulp, but before you can stop yourself your mouth is already moving, every repressed thought and emotion you’ve felt the last few weeks you’ve been stuck with him finally coming to light.

Because you’re a monster! You’ve kidnapped me and forced me into being your wife, and you have the audacity to ask me why I’m upset? I can’t stay with you, Kyojuro, not here, not anywhere! We aren’t in love – you’re mistaken, I don’t love you and whatever this is, it’s not love, so don’t tell me you love me! Please, just let me return to my home and family, I beg of you.

You cut yourself off with a small sob, and as your eyes flutter closed for a brief moment, your blood runs cold when they reopen.

You’ve never seen Kyojuro look like this – gone is that familiar grin of his, instead replaced with a harsh, straight, tight lipped expression. His eyes no longer hold any of the warmth and adoration he normally gazes at you with – rather, they seem unbearably cold, the heavy weight of his stare making you shrink in on yourself despite your rather brave speech. And something about his presence feels much larger than you’ve ever experienced it – it’s in this moment that you realize just how defined and huge the muscles he’s sporting across his upper and lower body are, the man before you holding more strength in his pinky finger than you in all of your body.

It’s crushing, the sick, horrible feeling that something is terribly wrong making your every hair stand on end, your breath ragged as you wait for his next move. Kyojuro nods slowly, his expression not changing.

I see.

You bite your lip, anxiety making a pit form in your stomach.

You need to be reminded of what’s important, my flame. You’ve become misguided – but don’t fret, I will help guide you back to the path. This will hurt, but with time you’ll understand my actions and perhaps even thank me for them.

His words have red flags raising immediately in your mind, but before you can really even process your own questions, his hand is shooting out grasping on of yours, fingers pressing against the pad of your index finger and pushing pushing pushing –

There’s a sickening crunch noise that fills your ears, and everything feels numb for a moment before white-hot, acute agony rushes through you, your finger already swelling and throbbing from the broken bone now within it.

Kyojuro watches as you sob harder, your eyes red and puffy as you look at him, your gaze weak and, quite frankly, pitiful. He only takes a deep breath, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before moving to the next finger, a matching crunch sound only making you cry harder.

Eventually, each finger on your left hand is broken, his hands already moving to start on your right. He’s quick about each break, not letting the pain linger any longer than absolutely necessary, but it doesn’t matter.

By the time he finishes with your right thumb, you’re nearly numb from the pain, your tears having run dry as you shake and jerk with every hiccup and sob that wracks your frame. The sight hurts Kyojuro, truly – and he’ll tell you as much.

Shh, oh my flame, don’t cry – I know it hurts terribly, but so does my heart. Do you see now? Do you see that I love you? I’m showing you that our love is real and pure – I will nurse you back to your proper health. I will be your hands when you cannot touch, and I will stay at your bedside every free moment to keep you company and ensure a quick recovery. Do you understand now? This is your home – no one can care for you in the way that I can.

His voice is soft, with a certain condescending lilt to it that only makes you dumbly nod, the pain still rendering you numb to your surroundings. And as Kyojuro carefully picks you up once more, moving you to your shared futon and gently tucking you under the covers, he’ll quickly gather some small sticks and medical gauze, wrapping each finger and cooing at you all the while.

And as he places a kiss onto each finger tip once its wrappings are complete, you’ll find yourself considering his words.

The conviction to individually break each finger of your lover is certainly no joke – perhaps he could be correct? Is this love?

Is the way he'll carefully feed you your meals as your wounds heal a sign of his truly undying feelings for you?

Is the way he bathes you (with wandering hands and stuttered breaths) a sign that he does truly care for you?

Is the way he helps you use the restroom without the use of your own hands a sign that he’ll truly stand by your side through darkness and light?

Your brain screams no, every ounce of your independence fighting the stream of questions, but some part of you finds comfort in the notion, in believing Kyojuro when he says that he loves you.

And as the days pass and your injuries slowly heal, your captor’s constant presence by your side helping to keep you clean, healthy and well fed, you’ll find that part of you growing louder and louder, drowning out your mind.

Because really, does it even matter? Kyojuro Rengoku is a man of dedication and unwavering devotion – and if he wants you to love him, isn’t it only a matter of time before he succeeds?

After all, who are you to stand your ground in the face of someone like him?

OVERALL DANGER:

6/10

Kyojuro isn’t necessarily dangerous, or at least in the sense of being a threat to your life. He’s clingy and needy and out of touch with reality, of course, but he doesn’t enjoy the notion of hurting you. He’s willing to, if it’s his only choice, but you’ll never need to worry that any hidden sadistic tendencies of his will emerge. He’ll never suddenly develop the desire to see you cry, nor will he suddenly discard you should his feelings dissipate.

Once his infatuation begins, Kyojuro is committed to making sure that you stay healthy, happy, and – most importantly – by his side.

He’s convinced that he’s the one that can make you happy, that he can give you the most perfect, loving future, filled with laughter, kisses, stolen touches and even a few children with bright yellow and red hair running around the estate.

He’s convinced that he can make you happy, that he already does make you happy, and it will be extremely difficult to snap him out of this fantasy he’s created for the two of you.

He’s an influential man with extreme importance, and you’d be extremely hard pressed to find anyone who would even believe you if you were to somehow escape him, if you were to somehow catch on to his nefarious intentions before he’s stolen you away.

It’s the combination of being surrounded by death, and a yearning to be happy and build a loving family that pushes him to pursue you, developing a future with you feeling so fucking important that he simply can’t resist the drive to court you, to wed you, to see your gorgeous smile and the pretty golden ring with flames engraved on it around your finger.

He’s simply a man in love, and if that love means his hands on your body, pulling you closer and closer and closer until you can hardly breath, so be it.

It’s only natural for something as powerful as love to create such a strong devotion, and isn’t it oddly romantic, in a way? To know that someone as powerful, important and revered as Kyojuro is in love with little old you?

Doesn’t it make you feel good to know you have the Flame Pillar wrapped around your finger, that he’d get on his knees for you at just the merest flutter of your lashes?

He’s truly in love, so embrace it with open arms – he sure is, and things will be much, much better for you the sooner you accept the love he’s so frantically delivering to you.

#yandere kny #yandere rengoku #_kny #_kyojuro rengoku #yandere kyojuro rengoku #yandere demon slayer

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theresattrpgforthat · 4 months

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games to play with my long distance partner? we’re queer nerds, i have a lot of dnd experience and some not dnd experience, they have a little bit of dnd experience, we both have fucked up schedules so something that’s asynchronous or short would be best. uh. there’s two of us. yeah i think that’s everything.

THEME: Long-Distance Games.

Hello friend, I am excited to introduce to you the joys of epistolary games!

From the Petals to the Leaves, by somewhere with stories.

This is a two player game about writing to a loved one while you are apart. Throughout the game you will write to each other while in different gardens, surrounded by plants and flowers of your choice.

This looks to be a pretty small game, but I think it fits the mood of writing to a loved one, with a concrete topic to base your conversations around - the plants in your gardens. I don’t own this game but I own a similar one by the same creator, so I’m assuming that the game provides you with a prompt list for each letter you send each-other. You can create your characters slowly as you write, uncovering bits and pieces about each-other through your fictional personas. If you just want something a little extra to flavour your letters to each-other, this might be worth looking at.

Soulum Scriptum, by Radmad.

Featuring the art of Marisa Bruno, Soulum Scriptum is a letter writing game for two or more players. You are isolated and alone, until a mysterious courier arrives at your door. They give you a proposition: write letters for someone just like you and they will bring you letters in return.

Develop the broken world and the haven that protects you, all while fighting despair and taking what hope you can find in your new connection across time and space.

This is a game of connection, between two isolated individuals who are struggling with despair. There are pages for various steps of the game, from world and character creation, to how to manage your feelings after your first letter. There’s also instructions for what to do when you fill certain tracks, including the track for your Haven (your home) and your Hopes (lines and pieces of the letters you receive that give you hope). If you like emotional games that have great potential to tell a story that grows brighter as you play, I recommend Soulum Scriptum.

Talking Thunder, by Eleanor Hingley.

‘Talking Thunder’ is a two-player correspondence RPG about finding connection in a dystopian world.

As the world changes, you never know what news each letter from your only friend will bring…

If you even hear from them again.

Another game about connection, this time in a post-apocalypse of some kind. I’m curious about how the letters are meant to reach each-other in the fiction of this game, although I suspect that ultimately that is up to the two of you!

We Are Ciphers, by Jgurantz.

We Are Ciphers is a 2-player letter-writing game where you craft a story using coded messages sent through the mail. You and your partner both covet the Prize, which you believe will transform your lives for the better. But acquiring it is an extremely tricky operation. Many things stand in your way, including the Target.

This is a letter-writing game with an added layer of complexity, because both of you could be writing in code! The code part is optional, but the premise of the game is that you are two spies trying to get your hands on the Prize - whatever you two decide that may be. The game comes with a list of popular media for inspiration, as well as a series of checkboxes for you to tick off to help you create a game that would be fun for the two of you. There’s also a number of worksheets to help you build your world, craft your codes, and create your characters. If you would like a fair amount of guidance as to how to play the game, We Are Ciphers might be up your alley.

The Wanderers, by AdventureByMail.

You and your friend wait to board two ARK-4 Civilian Class Shuttles charted for new colonies in the hinterlands of space. Though you will be several light-years apart, you promise to keep in touch through the interstellar communication network known as the Unified Starways Parley System. You'll use this network to tell each other about the life you build and the love you discover in the far reaches of space…

This creator makes a number of games designed for long-distance play, so if you like The Wanderers, you might want to check out some of their other work as well! The game itself is small enough to fit on a brochure, so it should be easy to print out and keep somewhere for easy reference. There are roll tables to help you create a character, and some advice on how to write your first letter. Following letters will be provided prompts based on a deck of playing cards, with special rules for drawing Aces. If you like using a bit of randomization to help drive a story, this game might be for you!

Games I've Recommended in the Past

I've played The Reaper's Almanac with a friend before and I really really love the premise of it. It has a chance to dive into some pretty traumatic material, however, as it is about death, so make sure to talk about your partner about the things you'd like to steer clear of if you play this game.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #indie ttrpg #epistolary games

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calliopefiction · 1 year

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Misplaced

Misplaced is a fantasy romance interactive fiction WIP, wherein your choices not only determine your own fate, but that of an entire kingdom. Let me take you an adventure filled with both whimsy and tragedy alike.

The current public demo goes up to the end of Chapter 6, available here: https://calliopefiction.itch.io/misplaced

The demo on patreon goes up to the end of Chapter 7: https://www.patreon.com/CalliopeFiction

The Story:

For decades, the human kingdom of Gaiapeia has been fighting against the fae living in the surrounding lands. How this conflict started depends entirely on who you ask.

You are the child of Lady and Sir Grahm, a noble familiy who has been serving the crown for generations. Eager to follow in your father's footsteps, you have been training for years to become a knight worthy of being Prince Az'Lean's Champion - his right hand, his closest confidant, the one who protects his life from the growing danger of the fae.

When the time finally comes and you are chosen for the position, it's a dream come true. You couldn't be happier. But just one day later, on your 21st birthday, a terrible truth is revealed to you.

You are a changeling - a fae child that was smuggled into a human family with only one purpose: to gain the prince's trust and use it against him.

A war between humans and fae is surely brewing and the outcome depends entirely on you.

Features:

Customize the appearance of your MC, play as non-binary, female, or male and romance whoever you like however you like, including the choice for asexual or queer-platonic relationships.

Enjoy the story without having to worry about stats - you will be a competent knight no matter what. There is no failure or success, only different choices and their outcomes.

Shape your personality, and your trustworthiness, with your actions. Other characters' disposition to you will change depending on how they perceive you.

Pick a side early on, play the long con, or refuse to make a choice at all. There are multiple split paths that will feature the same romancable characters - but their relationship to you might vary greatly (including villain romances).

Romance:

Vynn (nb):

Vynn is one of your fellow knights and a long-time friend. Unlike you, they aren't a knight by choice and don't care much for fighting. You get the feeling they'd much rather be a bard if they could, seeing as they love playing the lute, spinning epic tales and generally being a source of levity. They are fiercely loyal and good-natured, though there is that bit of resentment that will never quite leave their heart.

Prince Az'Lean (m):

Az'Lean is your prince, the one you are sworn to protect. At a glance, he is the very picture of a fairytale prince: charming, chivalrous, and powerful. He is an excellent fighter, loves animals, and prefers to be treated like an equal. Anyone who cares to look will soon notice the darkness lurking beneath that shining exterior, festering ever since the death of his mother.

Lady Meave (f):

Maeve is a powerful dryad who was sent to educate you on the ways of the fae. She is usually playful and soft, but can get eerily intense at times. As much as she cares about decorum and courtly things, she finds joy in the simplest things and easily turns into a giggly mess. For all her humour, you can never quite tell if she is being serious. Sometimes it feels like she's just playing with you.

Thianne (f):

Thianne is a sorceress and one of Az'Lean's most trusted advisors. She is intelligent and hard-working, though sometimes at the expense of her own well-being. Although she comes across as abrasive and rude, she is always willing to help those who need it. Her dry sense of humour and brutal honesty have endeared her to just as many people as they have made her enemies.

Lester (m):

Lester is a half-fae servant, working in the castle. As with most half-fae, his presence isn't entirely welcome and his reasons for being here seem complexer than he lets on. Lester is known for his mischief and his crude humour, often pulling pranks that border on malicious. Despite the way he presents himself as laid-back and uncaring, it's clear that there's a lot he isn't opening up about.

Warnings:

This story contains potentially triggering content. There will be graphic depictions of violence, death, discrimination, body-image issues and mental illness (including panic attacks, suicidal thoughts and paranoia). Discretion is advised.

Support:

Thank you so much for showing any interest in this project at all! If you would like to receive biweekly update posts, participate in polls, and get access to bonus short stories, consider supporting me on patreon: https://www.patreon.com/CalliopeFiction

#interactive fiction #interactive novel #twine #cyoa #dev log #misplaced #writing #fantasy #fae #romance #if game

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kywaslost · 8 months

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Good day! Could you make a Ciel x reader where the Ciel has a crush on the reader who is Lizzy’s sister (for the sake lest say Lizzy and Ciel ended to engagement) the thing is the reader is the only one in the Midford family to have dark hair (from a grandparent) and she gets very insecure about it, feeling like a black sheep in her family. Lizzy and everyone is very kind to her it’s just she constantly feels left out because she has a very different personality compared to her sister and brother. She feels very out of place during photo’s with her family. And especially during parties when people talk about her either being adopted or the cause of her mother being unfaithful. She just is naturally much more moody, and she doesn’t have as many friends unlike Lizzy because she just brings the mood down.

Sorry if it’s a lot, have a good day!

Odd One Out - Ciel Phantomhive

A/N: I decided to post this one a day early! I only have one class today and have a lot of free time at the moment. So sorry this took so long!

Not gonna lie, I had to do some research for this one. I’m a sucker for genetics, and so I got super excited for this one. Blonde hair is an autosomal recessive trait, meaning both parents have to be blond. Since both Midford parents are blonde, all of their children have to be blonde, that’s how I learned it. But I did some research to see if there’s mutations or something that can cause dark hair in children born from two blondes. I’ll try my best to simplify what I’ve found.

Melanin is a polymer, and it is most often known as the polymer that gives skin, hair, and eyes its color. By what I can understand, there are two types of melanin: eumelanin and pheomelanin. Lots of eumelanin produces black or brown hair, whereas pheomelanin produces red hair. Blonde hair is produced by very little eumelanin. Melanocortin 1 Receptor (MC1R) is responsible for determining hair color. Mutations in the MC1R gene can cause red or auburn hair.

For the sake of this fanfic, let’s just say there’s a mutation in the reader’s production of eumelanin cause I can’t find any way for two blonds to produce a dark-haired kiddo. And yes, I know this is a fanfic but listen people my love for science is strong so fiction or not I’m gonna make my details as accurate as possible. Anyway, hope you enjoy, and here are my sources <3

You were the black sheep of the family in every way possible. Literal or not, others found great joy in pointing out every difference between you and your siblings, especially when it comes to your appearance. It’s difficult to explain to others why you bear little resemblance to your family. Sure, you had your mother’s build and your father’s eyes, but that was as far as it went. You didn’t have the same hair color as your parents and siblings.

It’s common knowledge that two blonde parents bear a blonde child, yet you had dark auburn hair. After years and years of torment and rumors of your mother being unfaithful, or that you were adopted, you began researching why you were the way you were. There wasn’t much out there, but you did discover that you had some type of genetic mutation dealing with hair color. That’s why it was so difficult to explain to others why your hair was so different from your family’s, they didn’t have the same extent of knowledge as you did.

It didn’t help that you were also extremely different personality wise. Your sister Lizzy was very outgoing and extroverted, never hesitating to host parties or to meet new people. Your brother Edward, on the other hand, was very stoic and serious. He didn’t tolerate much of anything, and was very protective over you and your sister. But you weren’t much like your siblings. You often kept to yourself, only spoke when spoken to, and were generally just very independent. Growing up, the only real friends you had were your siblings, and your twin cousins.

Now that you’re older, you are even more independent. You spent less and less time with your family, often opting to stay in your room or going off on your own into the city. Your family constantly tried to get you to go to events with them, such as going to balls, parties, and even things as simple as family outings, but you couldn’t help but feel out of place. People constantly stared at you, and you couldn’t help but notice their hushed whispers as you walked by with your family.

You were grateful that your family didn’t see you the same way the rest of the world did. Your parents treated you no differently than your sister and brother. If anything, they tried their hardest with you to try and make you feel more comfortable and confident in yourself. Lizzy constantly wanted to be with you, doing your hair and makeup to spend some quality time with you. She took you dress shopping, and tried to cheer you up in that sort of way.

Because of your discomfort around your family, you often spent a lot of time with your cousin Ciel. His servants never treated you any differently than they did the rest of your family, and the boy’s Estate overall felt like a safe place for you. Ciel was always willing to let you vent to him, whether it be about how people had been treating you or how you were thinking of yourself, he always had advice to offer.

What he never would confess, however, was his feelings for you. His engagement with Lizzy ended just over a year ago, and it was all because he realized he had feelings for you instead. Watching you change throughout the years broke his heart, how you became more independent and less willing to socialize and go out.

You were staying a few nights at the manor to spend some time with Ciel. You had been having a particularly hard time, and you thought it best to spend some time with the boy. He greeted you with open arms, and immediately ordered Sebastian to prepare your favorite meal for dinner. You fell into your cousin’s arms, tearing up as he held you tightly.

“May I ask what brings you here?” CIel asks calmly as he hugs you. He can feel your tears soaking into his shirt and he becomes even more worried.

You sniffed as you pulled away from Ciel, wiping at your eyes. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a really long week.”

Ciel frowned, gently taking your arm and leading you inside. “Come, tell me about it.” You were led inside the Estate and to the sofa beside the fireplace. Ciel draped a light blanket over your shoulders as he sat beside you. Taking your hand in his, his blue eye met your E/C ones. “What happened?”

You began to cry harder as you recalled the events of the past week. Ciel listened as you told him about the hushed whispers and not-so-hidden stares followed your every move at a ball you attended with your family. Then how you stepped out of your comfort zone to speak to girls your own age at said ball, and how they giggled to each other as they ignored you and walked away.

Ciel wrapped you tightly in a hug, pulling you so your legs are draped over his lap and your face is buried in his shoulder. “Look at this,” you sniffle, reaching for your bag at the end of the couch. Ciel released you from his arms as you dug through your bag, pulling out a photo. You replaced yourself on CIel’s lap, handing him the photo. His warm hands brushed against your own as he took the image.

“This is a lovely photo,” he smiled softly. It was a printed image of the most recent family photo taken three days ago. Your father held your mother’s waist, Edward on his other side and Lizzy standing beside your mom. You were beside your sister. Ciel was right, it was a lovely photo. But the longer he looked at it, he noticed everyone’s bright smiles, and then you. It looked as if you were near tears, barely able to hold your smile long enough to take the photo.

“Honey,” Ciel coos quietly. This was very uncharacteristic of the Earl. He never showed this much empathy and emotion towards someone before.

“I hate this photo,” you cried as you rested your head on his shoulder once again.

“Why?”

“I look so out of place!” You pointed to yourself in the picture. “I hate that I was born this way! Why did I have to have this mutation?”

Ciel set the picture aside, wrapping you in his arms again and running a hand down your back. “I think you’re beautiful,” his voice was soft as he whispered in your ear. “Genetic mutation or not, I love the way you look, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.” CIel continued to hold you until you fell asleep in his arms. As he carried you to your designated room, he whispered to you.

“I don’t understand why others treat you this way, and I wish they would stop just as much as you do. But I love you, Y/N, and I would give everything to have you in my life. Genetic mutation or not, you are beautiful just the way you are.”

#comfort #x reader #platonic #ciel x reader #ciel fantomhive #black butler ciel #ciel #ciel phantomhive #ciel phantomhive x reader comfort #kuroshitsuji #black butler #black butler fanfiction #black butler x reader #black butler comfort #ciel phantomhive x reader

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cillivnz · 2 months

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SEX CHAMBER — THE DIMITRESCU BOYS [HEADCANNONS]

pairings. dimitrescu boys x f!reader [individual and foursome]

warnings. dubcon. nsfw. 18+. double/triple penetration, anal sex & vaginal sex, anal & vaginal fingering, squirting, forced orgasms, biting, mentions of cannibalism, blood-play, vampiric themes, overstimulation, breast-play, oral sex (m! & f!), stockholm syndrome (kinda).

a/n. requested! thank you for this ask, it’s been a common request, and i will be writing fan-fiction for these guys, too, but in different verses, not the preexisting ones!

the dimitrescu boys who adore you— their perfect little whore, so compliant and ready to take cock in whichever hole they choose. your pretty cries and sobs while those monster cocks absolutely obliterate you, showing no mercy to your gummy walls and virgin asshole.

Boian Dimitrescu, oldest of the three, silent and stoic, but determined to rearrange your insides. he hardly made a sound while thrusting into your pussy, only grunting when you’d clench unnecessarily around him, seriously, you’d think you would’ve adjusted to their size after fucking daily— day and night, but the cunt remains tight as ever, partly why the brothers are adamant on having you for breakfast and breaking your back for dinner. his long blonde hair falls over your shoulders when he’s thrusting from behind. complaining about you being a “hostile cunt”, nonetheless fucking every inch of that long, girthy cock into your abused cunt. as the oldest, it’s him that penetrates you first, even if it’s his younger siblings that have repeatedly made you squirt and gush over their tongues prior, but the first cock to enter you will always be Boian’s, it goes without saying. if it’s the next brother, then he’ll only argue with him over you, possessive as ever, taking his agitation out on your gaping hole(s), not giving you any attention while his dick pays you all the heed in the world. he loves spoiling you, wordlessly. if he gives any aftercare, it’s silently pulling your limp body closer to his, letting you use his toned chest as a pillow and sleep.

Cătălin Dimitrescu, middle child, this sadist would fuck you without prepping, and not just your pussy, this son of a bitch would fuck both your holes dry, enjoying the burn (though his cock would be wet enough from the forceful fellatio he’s coaxed out of your plump lips). he enjoyed kills the most, those cannibalistic ventures were the only shenanigans that would bring him as much joy as your cunt does. yeah, they all need blood to survive, but this one treats it like a luxury that only he, and he can afford. he’ll fuck you missionary, to stare at that pretty face contorting in pain and also to watch your cunt squeeze in and out his extreme length. not as girthy as his brother, but definitely on the longer side, punching your cervix is like a walk in the park for him. he’ll bite your neck, the supple flesh above your breasts and leave marks, licking the trickling blood, savouring the ferric tanginess. definitely the most vocal while fucking. doesn’t hide his own moans neither his admiration for how the sole purpose of your existence was to take dick like a champ. “good girl”, “don’t you dare run away from me”, “like that? harder? no? *proceeds to pound into your abused pussy*”. eats pussy like a starving man, “ugh, so thirsty,” whines while enclosing your squirting hole in an open-mouthed kiss. is the first one to get horny and bring his brothers to fuck you. doesn’t actually prep you, but his constant selfish stimulation of your cunt gets you about ready for others. raven hair all shaggy and wet from the amount of times he’s made you squirt on his face.

and Dorin Dimitrescu, the youngest and most delusional of all, because he actually thinks you’ll make a great wife, despite his brothers’ cum residing in every hole of yours in front of him, every day. so what if you’re not just a whore for him? he’s not a good man. he gives you pain just like Cătălin, but he wordlessly looks after your needs like Boian, too. “you’re so mean,” when you refuse to open wide for his cock to be shoved down your throat, or, “good, now harder,” when you’re trying to bounce on his cock while he’s pinching your clit. “i get thirsty, too, understand?” he says, pushing his brother’s face away from your bleeding breasts, trying to make you understand that he is not a sadist like him, but can’t not relish in your taste when you’re laid out so perfectly for him. “try something new?” he was the one who introduced anal, and you don’t know whether to curse him for leaving your hole gaping every night, or make love to him by letting him have his way. you feel chestnut brown hair tickling your back when he kisses your spine, fingering your ass while the tip of his cock prods at your swollen folds.

the dimitrescu boys who’ve hidden you from the eyes of their father, knowing he won’t hesitate to keep something as beautiful as you for his own pleasure the minute he’s aware of your existence.

the dimitrescu boys who’ve locked you away in the dungeons, usually chained in such a position that it’s easy for them to enter, enter you, cum inside you, and leave, while you’re still splayed out for the next brother to come and have his way.

the dimitrescu brothers who’ve provided you with more riches you’ve had as a poor farmer’s daughter, in the warmth of their abode in exchange of them inside your warmth.

the dimitrescu brothers who look forward to the days and nights ahead of them, only because they get to fuck you.

the dimitrescu brothers who’ve impressed their father with their new ability to care and share, credits to you and your body.

the dimitrescu boys who love you, simply because you’re the one one fucked up enough to love them back.

main masterlist. more from ‘resident evil: village’. blog navigatory.

#resident evil #dimitrescu boys #lord dimitrescu sons #resident evil dimitrescu #dimitrescu family #lady dimitrescu genderbent #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #smut #resident evil village #resident evil smut #Boian Dimitrescu #Cătălin Dimitrescu #Dorin Dimitrescu

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steddieunderdogfics · 20 days

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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: @thefreakandthehair! With thirty-nine works in the Steve/Eddie and Stranger Things tags on Archive of our Own!

In an underdogfics first, we have TWO nominators!

Our first nominator recommends the following works by @thefreakandthehair:

this is my month, I can feel it. october, baby!

never been afraid of any deviation.

scar-crossed lovers.

the answers are all inside of this.

Our second nominator, @sidekick-hero, recommends the following works by @thefreakandthehair:

over the hills and far away

meeting you was coming home.

make no plans and none can be broken.

rounding third, sliding home.

what's mine is yours (to leave or take)

Lex's brain is full of very creative scenarios, reading her writing is like reading an anthology of short stories but it's with all of your favorite characters! You get to see what they'd do in this AU or that AU, I love the exploration. It's like she's made a stew and it's simmering on the stove and you realize you're so hungry for stew as soon as you see it. <3 -- anonymous

Lex writes characters that come to life on the page while you're reading her stories. It makes it so easy to get invested in them, to feel with them and root for them to get their happy ending. She's one of these authors I would follow anywhere, any trope, any setting and universe, I am here for it. So I think more people should get to find her stories and be treated to the magic. -- @sidekick-hero

Below the cut, @thefreakandthehair answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

How can I possibly give just one reason! These two burrowed themselves into my brain like little gerbils with no hope of ever getting them out. I mean, was I supposed to hear ‘dontcha big boy?’ and be normal about it? But in all seriousness, they’re two sides of the same coin and those oppositions in character are super fun to play with!

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

It was tough to choose, but friends to lovers keeps coming up!

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

If I have to choose a particular trope, hurt/comfort would be the closest fit, but in the sense of healing past hurts together as a unit.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

This question sent me into an existential crisis and the best I could do is narrow it down to three, and even that was nearly impossible. In no particular order: We’ll Know For The First Time by KikiZ; carve your name into my chest by hexiewrites; and more recently, Among the Wildflowers by ParadimeShifts.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Rivals to Lovers in my football AU! I’ve been so excited to get moving on that one.

What is your writing process like?

Oh, I wish I had a better one. I start with a skeleton outline, pop on some music, and then pick and choose which part of the outline sparks joy in that moment. I rarely, if ever, write chronologically so I just write what feels good in the moment and then go back with a scalpel to create connective tissue.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Definitely writing out of order, I think! And if there’s one thing about me, it’s that someone is gonna have an introspective moment looking up at the stars. Someone told me it’s like my calling card and they’re not wrong.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

I like a bit of both. I like to post on a schedule for multi-chapter fics but only after it’s either completely done or mostly done so that there’s no pressure to it.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Over The Hills And Far Away incorporated some personal bits of my past that were equal parts cathartic and difficult to write at times, so I’d have to say that one! It’s really satisfying to take experiences that you regret or that didn’t end the way you’d hoped and give them a different ending in fiction.

How did you get the idea for never been afraid of any deviation?

The Eddie Month prompt for that day! Me and my co-mod for the event, nostalgicbones, included Bad Reputation by Joan Jett as a prompt and as I was listening to it, it got me thinking about how Eddie is someone who cares for those in less than ideal situations— maybe even to the point of weaponizing his own bad reputation to protect someone. In this case, that was Steve!

When writing the answers are all inside of this, what was something you didn’t expect?

I didn’t expect it to become multiple chapters! That one is part of my So Much For Stardust series (that I haven’t forgotten about, I’ve just been busy with big bangs) so it was based on The Pink Seashell interlude from the album. I still don’t know exactly how a 1-minute interlude turned into a 15k multi-chapter fic, but it was super fun to let go off the rails!

What inspired scar-crossed lovers?

Also a So Much For Stardust series fic, the first one in the series, actually. I heard Heaven, Iowa for the first time and wrote this based on that song in a day. My brain just kept rotating it around like a rotisserie chicken until I wrote it.

What was your favorite part to write from scar-crossed lovers?

This is ironic because I’m not an angst-writer by nature, but writing about the slow deterioration of Eddie’s van as a symbol for the passage of time was really fun to do. Bittersweet, but it was one of those things that I didn’t realize I was doing until I was in the middle of it and once I realized, I just carried it throughout!

How do/did you feel writing never been afraid of any deviation.?

Excited! It was the first time that I wrote pre-s4 steddie (which is wild that in two years, I just wrote that for the first time last fall?) and it was so fun to do!

What was the most difficult part of writing the answers are all inside of this.?

Probably balancing the kids’ voices in the first chapter while still creating tension between Steve and Eddie.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

It isn’t one of the fics listed here, but in no better version I could pretend to be tonight, I loved writing the line “Something about Steve feels like home, and Eddie is only familiar with houses.” Hurt/comfort, my beloved.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’m planning on taking a break from big bangs for a bit to focus on some super neglected WIPs, so there are a few upcoming fics I’m excited about! My Football AU, an ASMR Artist!Eddie x Insomniac!Steve AU, and I’m working on a fic called Pickup Note with sidekick-hero and firefly-party that I cannot wait to dive into fully.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Just thank you so much for all that you do with this blog! The ship truly exploded overnight and there are so many incredible stories that I’ve completely missed just because they’ve fallen through the cracks. I really appreciate what you’re doing here and the undertaking that it’s been!

Thank you to our author, @thefreakandthehair, and our nominators, anonymous and @sidekick-hero! See more of @thefreakandthehair works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #steddieunderdogfics #writer's wednesday #writer's spotlight #steddie writers

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anistarrose · 3 months

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So I have only my two cents to give on the "curing disabilities in fantasy/sci-fi stories" trope, as just one disabled person among many disabled people, but here are my two cents nonetheless.

One defense of the trope is that it's simply a form of escapism, and moreover, a fantasy that disabled people themselves can quite reasonably find joy in — as a feel-good story, a break from all the pain of real life. Many — not all by a long shot, but many — of us would jump at the chance for a cure, after all, and it's not like we're not valid to do so. Lots of us take pride in being disabled, but nevertheless, sometimes it really fucking sucks.

The counterargument to the above is this: that this isn't a realistic trope, and that particularly in combination with the suffocating frequency that this trope is used, this becomes the opposite of a hopeful fantasy. When you have an incurable condition, and the only happy endings you see represented for people like you in fiction are inevitably only achieved once the characters stop being like you — that can be indescribably upsetting.

Disabled characters do not get happy endings while remaining disabled — and fiction is fiction and all, but I'm not going to pretend like this doesn't have gradual, accumulative real-life effects on the amount of effort people/society are willing to put into accessibility and acceptance, because of beliefs like "aren't you going to be cured someday anyway?" Or "isn't this disability just going to stop existing, someday? one way or another?"

I hope I don't have to explain how damaging it is to think the above way, or to imagine a future where disability doesn't exist. (Yes, even though disability is partially socially constructed. That's a load-bearing "partially".)

So, if you couldn't tell, I do generally relate a lot more to the harsher, more critical view of this trope — but I certainly don't want to judge actual disabled people for writing it either (and especially not people with progressive conditions), not when there is genuine catharsis and escapist joy that can be wrung from it. I obviously don't trust non-disabled folks with writing "cure" stories any further than I could throw them, due to a long fucking history of non-disabled people fucking it up — but also, no one should be forced to reveal personal details, let alone medical history, to justify their choice to write something.

This is the paradox that I am willing to come to terms with, by throwing up my hands and saying, "okay, so some of the time I sure don't like it, but it's technically none of my business."

That said: if you're non-disabled, or you're writing about a disability much different from your own (a physical disability when you're autistic, for example), and you want to write an escapist feel-good story featuring disabled characters: I also want to stress that "escapist themes" versus "no one's disability gets cured ever" is very much a false binary. You can have both.

I've never written a "curing a disability" story. But I've both written and enjoyed some extremely escapist, unashamedly hopeful stories revolving around disabled characters — and it's all about accommodation.

A story of any genre where society is more accepting of — and willing to collectively help care for — chronic illnesses and chronic pain? That's escapist, and if it's something that characters once fought tooth and nail for, it's pretty damn cathartic. A fantasy or sci-fi story where medicines are still required to treat a condition, but the medicines are more accessible, more effective, et cetera, may also be escapist depending on the context.

Fantasy service animals, high-tech service robots, magical or indistinguishable-from-magic mobility devices? They're all possibly escapist too. (Just note that a lot of disabled people may still maintain a personal preference for seeing the "real world" versions, and that's that's also perfectly reasonable. Remember that the gripe with the original trope has a lot to do with a lack of variety in representation, justified by arbitrary rules about how fantasy/sci-fi "should" look, and the goal should be not to replicate that.)

So, in conclusion: if you find yourself writing a disabled character, and want to give them a happy ending, I urge you not to jump to "their disability is cured now" without at least thinking through the alternatives. Do your research regardless, and accept that disabled people will likely have a wide range of opinions on whatever you decide to go with — but accept that disabilities themselves are varied, and should not inherently have to consign either characters or real human beings to tragic lives by their mere existence.

#disability #ableism #long post #honestly i could tag toh here but i won't #(especially because the ableism in that fandom has calmed down since the peak in s2a - at least as far as i've observed)

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yellowocaballero · 4 months

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Omg hi Ms. Yellow Caballero big fan of your work <3 For real though, I'm really excited that your sharing the Weekenders, it was a joy to read and I'm bongocat-ing now that others also get the privilege to read it as well.

Referencing your tags, would you please elaborate of ableism in fandom and, like you said, how fandom treats characters with unpalatable disabilities?

Hi Ms. Bud Lite I'm a big fan of you <3

TL;DR A fear of writing characters of highly marginalized identities shields you from criticism and discomfort, but it's actively stigmatizing to people of these identities and as a writer you really need to get over yourself and write The Icky People.

I guess I'll come out swinging on this one and say that fandom doesn't like severe mental illness. (As a note, when I say severe mental illness (SMI) I mean illnesses such as psychotic disorders, bipolar disorder, substance use disorders, personality disorders, etc)

Obviously, nobody likes people w/SMI. It's just insanely egregious in fandom to me, since fanfic writers absolutely love writing characters or HC characters with depression, anxiety, or a specific variety of PTSD That Isn't Scary. People actively reject any character HCs for a SMI. When people write a character with SMI, they nicely downplay it, ignore it, substitute it for a disorder they like better, or rewrite it. It's completely untolerated, in both headcanons and in fanfiction, and every time I bring it up I always get the most interesting reasons why somebody couldn't possibly acknowledge a character's SMI in their writing. I've heard all of these:

"I don't know enough about the disorder to write it accurately." Do research.

"I'm not X, so I can't really depict it." You probably aren't a cis white man, but you depict those guys just fine.

"It feels insulting to the character." There is no shame in having a SMI.

"I can't understand what it's like, so it's better to be cautious and avoid giving characters stigmatized identities." There are LOTS of experiences that you'll never understand because you've never had them - you just don't want to write anything you're uncomfortable with. People with SMI make you uncomfortable, and you don't want to write anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, or think of a comfort character in an uncomfortable way. SMIs are marginalized differently than solely depression/anxiety/The Nice PTSD, and by refusing to write them you're actively contributing to the stigma.

I think (?) I've spoken in the past about how I believe that the rigorous external and internal policing of writing people of marginalized identities is actively harmful towards efforts to increase diversity of experience and background in fiction. A lot of fanfiction writers are just terrified to write people who they can't directly relate with, because they're worried 'they'll get it wrong' and be Big Cancelled. I think this is negative enough when it prevents people from going outside of their comfort zone, but on a macro level I think this results in people refusing to write characters of marginalized identities as all. It's an insidious thought process, and it's reflected in people's unwillingness to diversity their writing or acknowledge canon diversity.

'Well, I don't understand what it's like to be Black, so I don't want to write Black people'. 'I want to project on this character, so I only want to write them with mental illnesses and identities I have'. 'If I write a marginalized character incorrectly people will yell at me, so I won't write a marginalized character who's marginalized differently than me at all'. Can you imagine writing a lesbian character with a boyfriend because 'you feel uncomfortable writing lesbian experiences'? It's blatantly homophobic. But people do that with disability and race/ethnicity ALL THE TIME.

People with SMI notice that you feel uncomfortable with them. It's obvious. They notice when a character has a SMI + anxiety, and you only write their anxiety. They notice when a character displays symptoms of a SMI in canon, but you write it out. And POC notice when the characters of color are written out. I know we all like to project on the blorbos and relate to them, and in the joys of your own head do whatever, but as a writer if you only stick to identities you're comfortable with you are actively being a worse writer. Which to me is the REAL sin lmfao.

#my asks #thanks for enabling me lizzy if i didn't get this out i would have just vagued for the rest of time #even just beyond all of this on a more subtle lvl. HC people with SMI cowards. just do it. its good for you.#the two times me/a close friend have proposed on a fandom server "hey I read X as having a SUD/being on the schizophrenic spectrum'#there was actual fascinating pushback and rejection #people got MAD.#'blorbo wouldn't be an alcoholic he's not a bad person :(' fuck off #i dont use the word often but its ableism and you can be mentally ill and still ableist #if you dont feel educated enough on something to write it then do research #and while research wont give you everything it's a start #if you feel like you can only write people just like you then frankly? skill issue #i mentioned that the last fic was a bit of a spite fic - well #it was scientifically fascinating how the majority of a fandom wrote/acknowledged a character as depressed and anxious #but actively got incredibly defensive when someone suggested that the psychotic character may have had a psychotic disorder #it was so blatant. very annoying. anyway.

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yorutsuki · 3 months

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「 ✦ Isekaied Reversed Pt. 3 ✦ 」

↳ Deciding it's better early than later, you inform Xiao about the reality of Teyvat and sooner or later doubts start clouding your head.

[Tags: @itztaki @hannya-writes @7sins7dreams @iota1111 @sakuramouchi]

──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────

The two of you sat in the living room, you sat on the couch as he sat on the preferred ground.

"Alright, promise you won't react too badly when I tell you this?" You questioned for confirmation. The adeptus only shrugged. "I cannot promise of what I don't know."

You stared blankly at the short man at his riddle but nodded nonetheless, "understandable."

Clearing your throat you proceeded the explaining, praying that whatever God (at this point), gave mercy on you with whats to come.

"Alright, well, to put it simply—Teyvat—in this universe, is a game that everybody knows about." You stated as it was now Xiao's turn to stare blankly in confusion. Sighing, you pondered of a way to rephrase it.

"What I mean to say is, everybody from your world is but fiction here. They exist—your whole universe exists widely here but its not physical. It exist as..." As what? Joy for us? a digital concept thats basically a roleplaying game in which we can control you and your friends and your whole universe is a lie and turns out to be just code and is owned by a company? Wait- that could work-

"-a virtual game, all code and scripts that this universe's people can control almost. Nothing about it is real yet everything is known"

...

Silence fell between the both of you. You waited anxiously for an answer, intently staring down the man as he looked like he was experienced an emotional and mental crises.

"So what your telling me..Teyvat—Celestia, everything i've known is just..A lie?" He uttered in disbelief, his whole existance and knowledge crashing down as he shook his head in denial.

"And how do I know this isn't just some excuse? Some lie that you've created?" He glared at you.

You mentally and physically prepared yourself for this thankfully, "promise that you'll allow me to explain everything first before making a final desicion?" You asked as he hesitated but nonetheless nodded.

Pulling out your phone, you turned it on before entering Genshin Impact. You went over towards the yaksha before sitting down near him. Far enough to respect his space yet close enough for him to see.

"See, that's what some of us think are Celestia's gates." You pointed towards the blinding pearly gates, that welcomed you with bright lights. Entering the vast world, Xiao immediately recognized the layout. "That's Liyue..And thats.-" Cutting him off, you nodded in confirmation, "yea, thats Zhongli in a digital world."

Xiao was beyond stunned, he was overwhelmed with questions and emotions-yet little answers and resolves. How could this be? Zhongli's so...small? And it seems you can control him at will.

"-And before you jump to assumptions, no, i'm not physically harming him, nor am I doing any sort of demon arts to control him or anything else. As you said earlier, theres different universes. Theres a common thing called a video game in my world, which is this thingy right here—and Teyvat is just one many games thats been created."

Xiao looked bewildered, distraught and crushed. You felt quite horrible for the man. Maybe you should've explained everything in a easier manner?

"Uhm..I-"

"Don't."

You quickly shutted up as you watched the adeptus stand from the floor. "I just...I need time to process this all."

You nodded in understandment, watching the man making his way outside to the balcony before disappearing—only small specs of teal and shadow-like fog trailed behind.

Ceasing this moment, you banged your hand against the table, letting out a tired groan. Emotions and social conflict—especially from or for others, were quite tiresome, thus why you hated social interaction.

You just hope this conflict can be put to ease in due time.

....

Almost two hours passed and still no sign of the yaksha. You knew quite well not to worry as almost nothing in your world could harm the thousand year old-skilled fighter—not even the FBI or swat team. But...you couldn't help but have a nagging feeling of dread.

Scenerios started to slowly eat away at you, your anxiety increasing with each passing thought. What if he really did leave? What if he had got caught by someone? What if he....what if he decided to find someone who could actually help him..?

The last thought killed your heart. Honestly, you were never the main character type-far from it actually. You were more of a background character that played no significant role in life. Though, this experience would change that—it would give your life better meaning..yet, if that one main factor is gone...then its just back to square one.

Shaking your head, you shoved the negative and selfish thoughts aside,

This isn't about you, this is about Xiao. He's experiencing a life and probably also identity crises at the moment.

But for now, all you can do is give him his requested time.

...

An hour passed, there was still an absent sign of the yaksha.

Your worry grew ever so slightly. You knew nothing from your universe could take him down—not even the fbi, but you still couldn't shake the feeling that something could've happened.

As you walked around the apartment, no yaksha was in sight, the only option left was the roof.

...

Making your way up the concerningly long ass staircase, you opened the rusted metal door, only to be met with the same jade spear from not to long ago.

"Is this going to be a natural-daily occurrence or..?" You chuckled, not daring to move in fear of being punctured.

Xiao huffed in annoyance, retracting his spear before it disappeared into his inventory-gold specs replacing it's spot before disappearing. "For someone who knows a lot about us, your will on living seems slim—shouldn't you know sneaking on an adeptus without warning can lead to injuries?" He lectured, crossing his arms with a grunted look.

You rubbed your neck embarrassed, a small nervous chuckle escaped your vocal cords in replacement of words. "Sorry."

The adeptus shook his head, dismissing the mishap before walking towards the edge of the roof top, settling down at the edge, you followed in suit.

The moment of silence was defeaning between the two of you—only the whirring and explosive engines of cars and chirping birds ever so now and then filling the gap.

"So...do you want to talk about anything?" You asked, breaking the small tension. Xiao looked at you before furrowing his brows in thought. Of coarse he had much to ask, he had a bunch of questions and concerns that were gearing through his head, honestly he was surprised he hadn't received a headache yet. Yet his stoic demeanor and built exterior wouldn't allow him to spill—to show vulnerability. Though his persona did allow one question..

"Why..."

You stared at him dumbfounded, "Context?"

"Why...why did you decide to tell me about...all of this?—Why were we made? I...Was everything just..a lie?..." Xiao furrowed his brows as he looked down, his head swirling with unanswered thoughts that ate away at him. It was grueling.

You looked at him apathetically, how could you answer it? You didn't know. "Well, isn't it best to know sooner than be crushed later? In a different perspective, knowing 'the truth'...don't you think it would be easier to let the emotions settle in early than having to deal with them later?" You questioned. The adeptus only looked down in thought before sighing in agreement. "Adding on, I don't think your whole world is a lie. As we're experiencing now, there's a whole bunch of universes. You just so happen to stumble upon one where..hm, lets say indulged in on your world? You—the others, the whole of Teyvat most likely exists in general, just not here—if that helps." You assured the man. You couldn't exactly put it into words as you weren't much of a comforter but fanfics help with that. you try.

Xiao couldn't muster any words, his brain still processing everything. Looking below him at the streets, the moving cars, the occasional barks of dogs, the scenery. With a sigh, he let his mind at ease into a new perspective.

"It...it will take a while for me to digest all of this. But while i'm here, I should know more about this world than anything else." He spoke, his demeanor still stoic.

You let out a small nod, smiling, "of coarse."

.................

[A/N: That took quite a bit, sorry for the long wait, mixed up the plot for the majority and had to restart. I really hope that this went at a good pace and nothing was too fast or slow. TxT, anyways, thank you for reading!]

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

{ Part 3 }

{ Part 2 }

{ Part 1 }

............

[ Masterlist ]

#x reader #xiao #genshin #genshin imagines #oneshot #scenerios #genshin impact #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #xiao x y/n #xiao genshin impact #xiao x reader #zhongli

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catnippackets · 7 months

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My sister in law and I once had a very deep chat where she told me she's a bit jealous of how I'm "capable" of obsessing over interests; I got the feeling that to her it seemed like a specific type of joy she would never really know. In turn, I told her that even though I sometimes wish it had an off switch, I rlly can't imagine a version of myself thay doesn't get joyfully hyperfixated on things, since it's so intrinsic to my personality/neuro-chemistry.

Anyways, I totally relate to that feeling of detached embarrassment, but it was eye-opening to talk abt it with her and see that A) some people really admire the capacity for such "passion" and B) some people genuinely just can't have that experience, which seems both unthinkable and obvious lol

I genuinely can't imagine a life like that for myself either. I've gone through periods of time before where I wasn't hyperfixated on something and genuinely I felt like...deeply empty the entire time. As soon as something new entered my life to fixate on I felt like myself again. I definitely have interests and hobbies that I enjoy in a very normal non-obsessive way but it feels so different and they don't feel like...sustainable. like I'm just living off of bread and milk. idk how else to phrase that. because the things I always hyperfixate on are tv shows and fictional characters I kind of just assumed it came with the territory of being an artist, cuz as a creator it's like...this is what I'm meant to do with my life, right? I know I'm supposed to be telling stories and creating characters and exploring concepts through fiction so it makes perfect sense that I'm depressed without any source of inspiration or rejuvenation. Cuz it's inspiring as hell to be hyperfixated on something!! it gives me endless energy and inspiration to create and that makes me feel amazing.

most of my friends are ND too but I know some of them aren't the same as me in this regard and they've even expressed similar jealousy that they're not someone who obsesses over things. it's both understandable and so weird to me cuz obviously you can't pick and choose what your brain is gonna latch on to but like...you haven't even had ONE time in your life where you spent years only thinking about one thing? not even once? that's unfathomable to me, that's like my entire life.

and while I definitely do not enjoy the embarrassment of having feelings and how upsetting it can be to constantly be distracted from real life tasks that take priority and also feeling self conscious and wondering if I even have a personality sometimes beyond my fave video games/shows/movies, I'm really glad that I'm someone who can experience it cuz it really does feel like I'm just sitting around and waiting if I don't have a story to think about all the time. sometimes I hear people talk about how stressful and sad it is that they feel so deeply and I'm like yeah I mean sometimes but like...what about the joy. what about all the love. there's nothing sad about it! embarrassing sometimes yeah but that's worth it if it means I get to be so deeply happy and excited! I'll complain from time to time but never in a THOUSAND years would I ever want to change this about myself. I will take all the embarrassing annoying feelings if it means I get to experience pure wild autistic joy haha

#ask #Anonymous

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whispersosoftly · 11 months

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In Defense of Hot Dog Fingers

There is something about EEAAO that makes it fundamentally impossible for me to condense into a manner I feel is concise-yet-informative enough to adequately state my opinion. The movie itself is addressing so many different-yet-important facets of the main character (Evelyn)’s life that to describe one requires the description of them all. This movie is a narrative about parenting, queerness, undiagnosed ADHD, broken families, generational trauma, marriage, failed marriage, and deep depression. It talks, in a very genuine manner, the sensation of being an immigrant, of being out of place both at home and afar. It talks of having to deal with the elder generation in a way that is respectful to the old and the new. Like all things in life, it is messy. It is sharp and brilliant and disorganized. And it is queer.

The Hot Dog Fingers section of EEAAO is one of the most viscerally unnerving portions of fiction I’ve had the pleasure to experience in quite some time. We follow Evelyn’s romance with her IRS agent, Diedre, as they navigate their life together as a lesbian romance in a universe where human beings have hot dogs for fingers. We see a “sex” scene of Evelyn and Diedre ejaculating mustard and ketchup into one another’s mouths. Jamie Lee Curtis (or a body double) play the piano with their toes. It’s a distinct and intentional diversion from the other universes we see Evelyn inhabit, where she is a chef, a singer, a scientist. Here, Evelyn falls in love with a woman. Here, Evelyn has a normal life. Here, Evelyn learns what love means in a way that is alien to both her and the audience.

The Hot Dog Fingers world is, in many ways, representative of Evelyn’s internalized homophobia and her lack of understanding of her daughter’s romance with her girlfriend, Becky. The concept of lesbianism– of lesbian sex, of lesbian romance, can only exist in Evelyn’s world in the same way that humans could evolve to have hot dogs for fingers. It’s a specific, marked moment in the narrative where Evelyn is forced to learn to recognize that love can be unrecognizable.

It can often be easy for parents or adults to assume that a particular perspective or lived experience is the way that things are done. Many times has ‘my parents did it to me, and I turned out fine’ been cited as an excuse for corporal punishment, for the restriction of privileges, or for the deliberate choice to not acknowledge a minor or younger person’s identity. In this narrative, Evelyn is allowed to experience love from outside her wheelhouse, in a manner that would never have been expected or made available to her. Hot Dog Fingers is the reason why Evelyn is able to approach Joy’s relationships with the confidence and knowledge that her daughter is pursuing her happiness, whatever that happiness may mean for her.

The second portion of this essay will concern itself with the sections devoted to being a rock. I feel it has an importance to the narrative as a whole as well as to the cohesion of the film itself. I will approach the cohesion of the film first, as I think it will lend itself toward explaining the narrative.

Some films, most notably to my mind Mad Max: Fury Road, rely on endless, thumping, writhing action. The entire film is set in a broad, open desert. The entire film is a chase sequence. There are no breaks. The rig cannot stop, or the heroes will be caught and likely die. They must reach the place where the mothers sleep. They must reach the end point. They must meet their goal.

Halfway through the film, the illusion of a green sanctuary is shattered, and for about ten to fifteen minutes, there is stillness. The baking sun sets. The rig moves, but the story can breathe. People talk. There is a moment or five to resolve oneself toward the eventual rising action and climax.

This stillness in narrative allows the viewer a moment of rest. One hundred and twenty minutes of constant action is enough to numb a viewer to the spectacle of it all. Movies like the Fast & Furious franchise or Mission Impossible rely on these spectacles to draw in viewership, but without built in narrative pit stops, it’s just a fireworks display of meaningless lights and fire.

The rock segments of EEAAO fulfill that narrative pitstop for the viewer. Almost all sound cease. Almost all movement ceases as well. There is no spoken dialogue, only subtitles that display in clear, large block lettering. EEAAO is relentless in the way that it introduces and supplements new visuals, and the two sections of rock are literal anchoring points that allow the viewer and the characters to breathe and to coalesce into their respective identities.

As a person with ADHD, I often find myself in a life that feels loud. Sounds, sights, sensations all clump and pile onto one another in ways that can be at times frustrating or obstructive. The actual, palpable relief I felt at the first rock sequence allowed me to think through all I’d seen and actually process the narrative. The silence was comforting to me. It literally felt like being put under a blanket and allowed to think during a busy day.

In terms of narrative, this is as close to suicidal ideation as the story toes. Joy wants to stop. Life and everything hurts her! She receives no support from her parents despite being told that they love her. She wants to cease. To be inorganic matter, unable to be hurt. She wants to have a literal, immovable, inviolable distance between herself and her mother. It’s a visual representation of the shattered relationship she has with Evelyn, and of her own measure of despair at ever crossing that gap.

The second use of the rocks is different, because by this point in the narrative, Evelyn can see Joy. Evelyn can see Joy’s pain. Evelyn can see that Joy’s feelings of isolation and of abandonment, while real, are surmountable. Evelyn takes that step and rewrites the world for her daughter. Evelyn looks at all the misunderstanding and trauma heaped onto her by Gong Gong and she says no. I will not do this to my Joy. I will not allow my pain and disappointment to carry on through her.

It feels as though every portion of EEAAO is a bit like a cotton boll, where I can tease and tug and pull at each individual fluff until my little narrative becomes a pile of interconnected thoughts, sensations, and experiences. Evelyn’s life and the multitudinous ways in which that life can be expressed cannot be covered in just these two scenes, but I feel the importance of those scenes vastly outweigh the jarring nature they may have to the viewer.

Thank you for reading. :)

#everything everywhere all at once #EEAAO #Evelyn #Joy #Analysis #hot dog fingers #hey qara look pls

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changbunnies · 9 months

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White Lines and Red Lights (18+)

♡ Pairing: Han Jisung x fem!reader

♡ Genre: college au, idiots in love (they are so oblivious), best friends to lovers, mutual pining, basically pure fluff, a smidge of angst? (it's barely there, mostly due to perceived one-sided pining that is in reality not at all one-sided lmao)

♡ Word Count: 13.4k (i may have gotten carried away)

♡ Summary: The spring semester is over, and summer break is sure to be full of fun and good memories for Y/N and her best friend, Jisung. The only problem being, they are both hopelessly in love with each other, and completely oblivious to how the other one feels.

♡ Warnings: reader's major isn't specified but is implied to be creative, jisung's major is also not specified but is in music, alcohol consumption, mentions of food and eating, many uses of the word "fuck" lol, lmk if i missed anything you think should be listed here !

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): slightly inexperienced sex (neither reader or jisung are virgins, but they don't have tons of experience either), lighthearted but also romantic sex?, petnames (baby), a lot of kissing. like so much kissing, nipple play, handjob, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected piv, creampie (reader is on birth control)

♡ Notes: this was written for the @skzwritingcafe prompt "summertime confessions" ! i hope you like it and as usual, if you’re interested you can check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Hell is finally over! That’s what you’ve been happily telling yourself since 2:30 pm, when the last of your final exams were complete and all assignment deadlines were met. Did you reach the end of all your trials and tribulations with a passing grade? That you weren’t entirely sure of, but the instant relief when the clock met the fated hour expelled any worries instantly from your mind. It’s a problem for future you, your brain decided, because now there was room for one thing and one thing only: fun!

You were beyond ready to turn your brain off, to indulge in some much needed fun to clear the fog in your head, and to then settle into comfort and relaxation. You hadn’t had a moment of joy or peace in weeks, and you were most definitely due for it; the thin line that was your sanity could only handle so much more stress before it snapped.

And that’s what you’ve spent the last hour getting ready for- an end of semester celebration with friends, a small reward after the grueling study efforts intended to revitalize those that turned into zombies over the course of finals week. Parties aren’t typically your thing, being much too loud and chaotic for your tastes, but how could you say no when said party was being held by your best friend and his 2 roommates? And after the literal hell you endured during the last semester, and especially during this last week, you needed a night with your friends more than you needed oxygen.

“You’re here!” Chan greets you with a smile after he opens the door, happy to see you after weeks of being stuck in the confines of your bedroom, having turned into an effective study machine. “Hi Channie,” you return his smile as you step fully inside, giving him a quick hug after the door shuts behind you. “Where’s Jisung?” you waste no time in asking, eager to see the person you cared about most (no offense intended to your other friends.)

It felt awful not having time to see him the last few weeks; the only thing that gave you comfort during that time was knowing that he was equally as busy meeting assignment deadlines and studying for his finals as you were. You wished you could’ve studied together, like you did when you were kids, but different majors meant there wasn’t as much crossover in what you were learning as there once was. But still, you took solace in knowing you weren’t alone during the struggle; at least, metaphorically you weren’t.

Chan points you to the kitchen, and you thank him before you make the short walk there, a bounce in your step as happiness settles over you for the first time in what feels like ages. It doesn’t take you long to spot him, standing near the counter with his other roommate Changbin, as well as with a handful of other friends he’s made in his major.

“Sungie, I missed you!” you call as you jump him for a hug, which very nearly knocks him over. He yells out in surprise, just barely managing to keep his hand steady to save his drink as he shifts his weight to maintain his balance, stabilizing himself on his heel. “Y/N!” Jisung yelps when your arms squeeze him tightly, and he lets Changbin take his drink from his hand to safely secure it elsewhere.

He returns your hug as soon as he’s able, and you close your eyes before you smile at him, already feeling your drained battery recharging. “Jeez, I know you missed me, but warn me next time! You almost gave me a heart attack,” Jisung mumbles his complaint in your ear, but you can tell by the smile he has on his face and squeeze in his arms that he’s missed you just as much, this hug being as healing for him as it is for you.

However, he meant it when he said you almost gave him a heart attack, though it’s not for the reasons you might think. First: it’s true he was totally unprepared for you to launch at him with the intent to squeeze him into a hug, but that wasn’t the problem. The real problem was that you looked so pretty, and after weeks without seeing your face, his heart was left with no defense against your charms.

He’d been reset to zero, it seemed- his built up resistance and tolerance reduced to nothing. And that went hand in hand with the second problem: his heart was beating out of control! You’re holding him so tightly, smiling at him so brightly, eyes sparkling under the fluorescence of the mundane kitchen light. He didn’t understand how something as small and trivial as the lighting in the room seemed to add to your appeal, but it did.

Jisung steals a glance at his roommates, who are looking with a knowing smile that makes him want to sink into himself and hide. Why is this so embarrassing? You however seem as oblivious to how he feels about you as ever, much to his relief. His impossibly large crush on you will assuredly be getting the way tonight, but he can definitely play this off the rest of the evening, right? …right?

Jisung ended up not drinking for the rest of the night, much too afraid of how flippant his mouth would become if he had too much alcohol in his system- the last thing he needed was to do something as cliche and embarrassing as drunkenly confessing all his feelings to his best friend. Though, even without the drink in his system, this night was killing him.

Why did you have to smile at him so prettily while pulling him to dance with you? Why did you have to giggle at him so sweetly when he made a joke? And why did you have to lean so close every time you spoke to him? He cursed his past self for deciding to play the music so loudly, because the close proximity and feeling your breath against his ear every time you wanted to tell him something was making his heart feel like it was going to explode.

You were wearing the perfume that he once accidentally let slip was his favorite of yours- he couldn’t remember the exact name of it, but the sweet, citrusy smell filled his nostrils and reminded him of all the times in the past he was close enough to you to inhale it. Tight hugs, cuddling on his sofa on the weekends, laying in your bed watching anime until it was time for him to go home- all memories he cherished, because they were spent with you.

And the moment he unintentionally admitted how much he loved the smell of your perfume, it seemed like you were always wearing it, and it drove him crazy. It lingered on everything- or maybe he just found it easy to recognize given how attuned to you he was; and now with the distance you’d had, and how much he’d missed you the last few weeks, it was like your perfume was taking over his senses.

Jisung almost couldn’t think straight- it was like he was drunk, but on something entirely different from everyone else inside his apartment. To calm himself down, and reset his senses, he stepped out on the balcony for some time, willing his heart to calm by using the fresh air as a conduit.

By the time Jisung enters the apartment again following his latest balcony outing, most of his friends have gone home with their respective designated drivers, with Chan offering to call the stragglers an uber or a spot to crash somewhere in the apartment. Chan was always like that during parties- the self appointed dad of sorts, always making sure everyone was well taken care of.

He looks past his friends to see you alone on the sofa, chugging a water bottle that he assumes Chan gave to you. “Trying to sober up?” Jisung asks as he takes a seat next to you, and you nod, making an affirming noise as you continue to take large sips from the bottle. “Gotta stay hydrated too if I don’t want to feel all this tomorrow,” you finally respond when you’ve swallowed down the last of the water, though you're sure you didn’t drink enough alcohol to get a hangover; your legs will likely be killing you more than anything, given all the dancing and jumping around you did.

“Right, wouldn’t want you to end up like Changbin,” Jisung replies and you laugh as you recall the memory of a very intoxicated Changbin, who had way too much to drink in a short span of time but insisted he wasn't drunk. He was incredibly affectionate, coming up to everyone to squeeze them into hugs and tell them he loves them, and dancing to girl group songs with so much passion that you’d think he was in some sort of idol audition.

Changbin passed out first, to no one's surprise, and he had to be carried to his bed by an exasperated Chan while you and Jisung giggled to yourselves at the display, deciding you would both definitely be teasing him about it tomorrow. “I’ve never seen him like that- he was still himself but like. Times a million,” you laugh, thinking about when a newjeans song came on and it made him effectively lose his mind.

“Oh it’s late,” you say absentmindedly after some time spent talking passes, checking your phone for the first time all night. Jisung peeks over, eyes widening when he sees the “02:37” displayed brightly on your screen. It was the latest he’d (voluntarily) stayed up in months; where did the time even go? “Guess we should sleep, huh? I can give you my bed, I’ll sleep here so-”

“No way, we’ve talked about this before! I don’t wanna kick you out of your own room- just share your bed with me,” you said, almost sternly. It was true- you both had countless sleepovers over the course of your friendship, both planned and accidental, and every time he offered to sleep on the sofa, you vehemently refused. However, those times you weren’t inebriated, and this time you definitely were (even if it was only mildly.) And besides that, with how weak he’s been over you all night, he’s not sure if his heart will even let him fall asleep if you’re next to him.

“I-I mean- are you sure? You’ve been drinking so.. I dunno, I just like- didn't want it to be weird.. I guess?” Jisung stumbles over his words way more than he wishes, and the way you giggle at him makes him want to crawl into a hole and never come out. Way to play it cool, Jisung! If you weren’t being obvious about your feelings before, you definitely are now, idiot!

“C’mon Ji, you know I trust you with like, my entire life. It won’t be weird,” you answer with a smile meant to assure him, but all it does is make his heart pound even harder. It’s unfair how effortlessly flustered you make him. “As long as you’re sure then- yeah, let’s go to bed,” he says as he helps you to your feet, and while you definitely didn’t drink enough for your legs to be unstable, you appreciate the sweet gesture.

The minute you’re in his room, you flop right in the middle of his bed, a large sigh leaving you- you didn’t realize how actually exhausted you are until now. “Don’t fall asleep like that please, I don’t wanna sleep on the couch now that you’ve promised I can have my bed,” Jisung says as he walks over to his dresser, and you laugh in response. “I won’t, promise!” You sit up quickly, wrapping yourself up in his comforter as you do- you won’t fall asleep, but you can at least still be cozy.

“You really should’ve brought a change of clothes if you were going to crash here,” Jisung jokingly complains you as he scrounges through his drawers for something that will fit you comfortably (and that he won’t mind parting with, because he knows he won’t be getting back whatever he gives you; which would be fine if it didn’t fill his head with thoughts about you being his girlfriend.)

“Not my fault! It’s yours for creating the atmosphere,” you argue, arms folding over your chest in a rather mild display of opposition. “What atmosphere?” he laughs as he finally settles on one of his oversized shirts and tosses it over to you. Comfortable. Secure. Safe. Happy. Loved. Cared for. You could only let loose so much because you were with him, could only have such a good time because he was there doing it with you.

“..Fun,” you finally answer, clutching the shirt he gave you in your hands, deciding not to say anything further than that. Better to avoid that line of thought while you’re recovering from being tipsy, you think- it’d be bad if you suddenly made an admission you weren’t ready to. An accidental confession at this point would risk ruining an otherwise perfect night with your friends.

It doesn’t take long for Jisung to find what he wants to wear to bed, and he leaves the room to allow the two of you to change separately. You put your prior outfit on top of his dresser before returning to his bed, settling underneath the blankets as you wait for him to come back. You’re lying there for only a few minutes when he returns, turning off the light and carefully crawling in next to you, and finally settling in with his back pressed against yours. You both whisper quiet “good nights” to each other, willing your equally fast hearts to calm enough to sleep.

This isn’t the first time you’ve shared a bed with Jisung, and during the early years of your childhood friendship it never made your heart race the way it does now. You’d usually say something along the lines of “what’s wrong with best friends sharing a bed?”, the act always completely innocent. You needed to sleep, and you didn’t want Jisung to sacrifice his bed when you could easily share it- it was always as simple as that.

But in recent months, you’ve noticed that it stopped being simple; with your back pressed to his, the sound of his gentle breathing behind you, you realized it had started to make your heart race unbelievably fast. You had begun to notice that same sensation in other moments too- like when he smiled at you after you helped him decide on a concept for one of his assignments, or when he’d call you after a hard day just to hear your voice, with his reason being that “talking to you makes me feel better!”

It was the same for you, of course. Talking to him always made you feel better, a single smile enough to lift the heavy weight off your heart. He always listened, he always cared, and he was always there for you. That’s another reason these last few weeks were so hard for you; you didn’t have Jisung’s support, and not because of any fault of either of you, but because adult life and responsibilities got in the way.

You wanted to make time for him, and you knew he wanted to as well; you still texted each other often, facetimed during the moments you allowed yourselves to rest, and it helped immensely, but also resolidified something you’d thought once before; that without Jisung, your life is impossibly dark. And that without his support, you weren’t sure how you’d get through the difficulty that life brings you.

You sigh and roll over, looking straight at Jisung’s back. You came today to escape grim thoughts, stress, and self doubt, hoping that fun with your friends would shove them all away, but it seems they’ve found their way back to you regardless. It was bound to happen, you suppose, but you hoped they wouldn’t be back for a while at least. But, if there’s any solace to be had, you have Jisung next to you, and he always comforts you even with just his presence alone.

You roll over a lot in your sleep, so when you first do it, Jisung doesn’t react. He figures you’ve just fallen asleep quickly after all the drinking and dancing, and now he can finally truly relax and begin to fall asleep himself. He’s always tense at first, the close proximity making him nervous and unable to sleep, even if you aren’t face to face- because even though you’re his best friend, it’s an undeniable fact that you’re also a girl. A pretty girl at that, one that he’s silently been crushing on for years.

So when he hears your voice call to him, it’s unexpected, and it makes his heart pick back up in speed as his body tenses once again. “Ji, can you turn around?” you ask, and he freezes a moment, wondering if the remnants of alcohol in your system is what is causing you to ask something so bold.

But no, you’re nowhere near drunk, and he’s probably the only one on earth who thinks the prospect of turning around to face his best friend during a sleepover is “bold.” This is an ordinary request, and it’s not your fault that he finds the action so nerve wracking. He really needs to get over it so he can go back to being normal around you. “S-Sure,” you hear him stutter quietly, carefully turning to face you.

Even in the relative darkness, he can see your features clearly enough to make his breath uneven. Your pretty eyes, your cute nose, your lips that look so soft and kissable and- “Fuck, stop thinking about it. Get it together, Han Jisung,” he internally scolds himself. He hopes that you can’t hear the sound of his heart beating, or see the blush forming on his cheeks as he stares at you.

“Can I ask you something?” your voice is quiet, almost a whisper. He can tell you’re serious, and he has no idea what you intend to ask, but the possibilities are sending him reeling. Did he stare at you too much today? Did you notice the way his face reddened every time you smiled at him? You were just so pretty that he couldn’t help it and-

Were you going to ask him if he had feelings for you? Were you? Should he be honest if you do? Admit that he’s thought you were pretty for the longest time, has wanted you to look at him romantically for years, had wondered what your lips would feel like on his? God, he really needs his heart and mind to calm down, or he’ll never survive the rest of the night.

“Do you ever wonder.. If you’re doing the right thing?” your question finally breaks him from his whirring thoughts, your voice still quiet and with an unsure hesitance to it. Jisung’s expression immediately changes to one of care and concern, a bit taken aback by your question but entirely ready to listen to you talk about whatever is on your mind now that he can think clearly. “What do you mean?”

“Like.. with college, I guess. Do you ever think maybe you should be doing something different?” You look him directly in the eyes as you ask, clearly searching for some sort of comfort, an answer that will help you come to terms with whatever complicated emotion you’re dealing with.

“Yeah, sometimes. I mean, I love music, but I’m not guaranteed to go far with it even if I’m good at it. I know that sometimes passion and talent aren’t enough. The people who succeed are usually lucky,” he answers honestly; he’s not sure if that’s what you want to hear, but he knows you value his insight and opinions, even when they differ from yours.

“What makes you keep going then?” You had such a hard time this last semester, and there were more than a few times where you reached a low point and wanted to quit. You were lonely, exhausted, broke, creativity entirely spent.. You questioned whether all that hardship was worth it, and if you’d be better off pursuing something more practical and mundane.

“Well.. It makes me happy. And I know that even if things don’t turn out how I wished, I think it would be more regrettable if I didn’t try, you know? Even when it’s really hard it’s also rewarding, and every day I learn so many things I would’ve never learned alone in my room, or at least, it would’ve taken me forever to get there by myself. I made a lot of new friends too, I have you and other good people to support me, and-”

You nod along to his words, taking them in and humming every once in a while to let him know you're still listening. He’s talking a lot, but you don’t mind that- you’re happy to know what he thinks and feels, his voice is soothing, and you feel less alone knowing he understands you to at least some degree, and is willing to help you through your hardships. That’s all you really needed; for Jisung to hear you, and reply in the thoughtful way he always does.

“And you know I’ll always be there for you, right? If you ever feel like this again, just tell me. I’ll be right there, the minute you call I’ll-” Oh, wait. Your eyes are closed, breath slow and gentle, now completely unresponsive to his words. You fell asleep while he was talking? How long was he going before he even realized you were no longer listening? His other friends are right- he really does talk way too much sometimes.

He observes you quietly for a moment, giggling to himself when he hears the soft snores leaving you as he takes in your serene expression. He also realizes that the sky has gotten brighter, the sound of birds chirping becoming more prominent with each passing moment. How had the night come and gone so quickly?

That’s what always happens when he’s with you, though- time seems to accelerate, while at the same time feeling like it’s at a stand still. The happy moments pass in the blink of an eye, but simultaneously seems to freeze whenever he stares at you. When you smile and laugh with him, it makes his heart burst, your shining eyes always taking his breath away.

Reaching his hand up carefully, he tucks the hair that has fallen over your face behind your ear, smiling to himself when you unconsciously lean into his light touch. It’s so cute, how even in your sleep you seem to recognize it’s him, indulging in the comfort he offers you. At least, that’s what you’ve told him once before- that one of the reasons you like having sleepovers with him is because his presence makes you feel safe and relaxed.

He's not sure if you even remember saying it, but he was so happy when you told him, and even now it’s something on his mind every time you two share a bed. He just wishes he wasn’t always so tense and nervous whenever you laid next to him, and he wishes he had more courage to always lay face to face and talk like you did tonight. Maybe one day he can hold you closer, wrap his arms around you and let his head rest atop yours.

Maybe he’ll kiss you, too- your lips, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, anywhere you’ll let him. He can picture the way you’ll giggle at him, how you’ll playfully push him away while complaining that it tickles, and how he’ll wrap his arms around you tighter to keep you trapped in his affection. And when it’s all over he’ll tell you he loves you and-

Wait.

He loves you?

Well, of course he does. You’re his best friend, so of course he loves you! Totally platonically, of course. The fact that he’s had a major crush on you for the past few years doesn’t matter. Nope. Not at all. Surely he’s not literally in love with you, right? Because you’re his best friend and falling in love with your best friend is not only the most cliche thing ever, but definitely a recipe for heartbreak.

So he’s not in love with you- he can’t be. It’s just a simple crush! It doesn’t matter that he constantly thinks about kissing you, or holding your hand while walking together, or how it’d feel for you to lay your head against him while he holds you during movie night. It doesn’t matter that he envisions what going on dates with you would be like, or what life would be like if you moved in together, or what your body would look like bare underneath his, or-

Fuck, he’s so in denial. He’s definitely in love with you, hopelessly so. His cute, endearing best friend, who he can’t seem to ever get out of his head. Do you ever think about him the way he thinks about you? Are you always on his mind, lingering in every thought the way you are for him? He desperately wants to know, but there’s a part of him that is afraid to find out, because what will he do if you don’t feel the same way?

He forces himself to roll back over and close his eyes, because if he doesn’t stop looking at you, he’s never going to be able to stop thinking about it long enough to get some sleep. But even with his back now turned to you, hearing your soft breathing and feeling the dip in his bed from your presence is enough to plague his thoughts and keep the sleep he desperately needs out of reach for what little remains of the night.

It’s been a few weeks since the night that Jisung finally admitted to himself that he’s in love with you, and whoever said being honest with yourself makes things better has definitely never been in love with their best friend, because actually what the fuck. This is the closest to hell he’s ever been, he thinks. Because he can’t seem to go a single moment without thinking about wanting to be romantic with you, and it’s driving him crazy.

Holding your hand and cuddling during movie night, staying up all night on the phone talking about anything and everything, giving you sweet kisses after he tells you how much he loves you- he’s begging his brain to let him think about literally anything else, but it simply refuses. And now, sitting in his car together at a red light, is another such time where wanting to kiss you encompasses all his thoughts.

You had spent time together almost every day since the night of the party now that your schedules were free, but all those times included the additions of your roommates or his. It’s only now, after a day spent at the beach, that the two of you are alone together again (thanks to the combined, scheming efforts of your mutual friends.)

Chan loves the beach, and he goes whenever he can, but today he didn’t want to hangout there alone. He invited you, as well as his roomies and other friends, to come meet him there. And of course, you said yes, and of course, you had the most breathtaking swimsuit on underneath your clothes. It was almost embarrassing, the way it stole Jisung’s breath away and made his cheeks burn red. He prayed he could blame it on the harsh sun, but there’d be no fooling Changbin, who was snickering behind him.

“When are you going to finally confess?” Changbin asked when you were out of ear shot, and Jisung pouted, both because he was being called out about his feelings, and because he had no fucking idea when, if ever, he’d tell you how he feels. “I.. don’t know,” he ended up answering honestly, continuing to look in your direction even as he spoke. You were splashing in the water with your mutual friends, your laugh ringing loud in his ears even with the distance between you.

“C’mon, Ji. Summer breaks are practically built for romance. You gotta make a move,” he’d said, and Jisung once again pouted. “Easier said than done,” he mumbled in response, something akin to dread settling in him whenever he thought about the possibility of you rejecting him. “Jisung,” Changbin started, all sense of joking or teasing having left him, “I’ve been watching you pine over her since the day I met the two of you. You need to tell her, because I don’t know how much more of those looks of yours I can handle.”

“What look?” Jisung asks with a frown, turning his gaze away from where you are. “Like a lost puppy begging for attention,” Changbin answers nonchalantly, and the appalled reaction he gets from Jisung makes him laugh. “But seriously. I’ll ride home with Chan, so why don’t you take her home later? Get some alone time before you drop her off or something?”

“But she came with her roommates. Why wouldn’t she leave with them?” Jisung asked, and Changbin laughed as he shook his head. “You’re so clueless, dude.” It’s common knowledge to everyone who came today that the two of you are so hopelessly in love with each other, but seemingly too oblivious to notice how the other one feels. And if Jisung asked you to spend some alone time with him, you’d say yes in a heartbeat, no questions asked.

Maybe what the two of you needed was a little push- a reason to be alone together, a romantic setting to set the tone and finally get the two of you to move beyond the bounds of friendship. And if Jisung won’t act on his own, Changbin will take it into his own hands; mission “get these two pining idiots together” starts today.

Changbin told Chan, who then told one of your roommates, who then told another. By the time the sun is setting, everyone knows the plan. You would be left alone with Jisung, by any excuse necessary. Thankfully, Chan came in his own car due to his tendency to hit the beach before anyone else, so he and Changbin wouldn’t be leaving Jisung stranded by leaving early.

The two of them left first, with the excuse that they’d be ending their day by hitting the gym- they’d actually just be relaxing on the sofa the rest of the day, but you and Jisung didn’t need to know that. Your roommates took that as their cue to prepare to leave as well, and the group of you helped one another towel dry enough to throw your clothes back on over your swimsuits.

Jisung approached you as soon as he was done himself, waiting for you to finish packing your things in your tote bag before saying anything. “Hey, d-do you want to go get some ice cream?” he asked, mentally cursing himself for stuttering. Since when did asking your best friend if they want to get ice cream become so nerve wracking?

“Of course!” you smiled, turning to your roommates next to see if they wanted to join. They all said no, of course, citing being tired or wanting to shower asap as their reasons, but urged you to enjoy your time with Jisung. You don’t find it weird at all, much too excited about eating ice cream to even begin to realize this was a planned set up.

The sun was just beginning to sink when you arrived at your favorite parlor, excitedly bouncing up to the counter as Jisung trailed behind you with a smile. You decided to be adventurous, picking out a new flavor suited for the summer, while Jisung went with a classic choice of cookie dough.

“Can I have a bite of yours?” it didn’t take long for you to inevitably ask him, and Jisung gave you an overdramatic sigh as he passed it over to you. Trading bites somehow always ended with you eating more of Jisung’s ice cream than he did, but that was okay with him. He always ordered your favorite flavor, knowing that you can’t resist the temptation of trying the new one, but would end up wanting cookie dough more than whatever new flavor initially enticed you.

It’s a bit of a ritual for him at this point; ordering your favorite while pretending it’s his favorite as well, acting like he's annoyed when you beg him for a bite and eventually end up taking half the bowl while offering him whatever flavor you ordered instead as compensation for his loss. Do you notice the way he smiles after you take his ice cream from him? The adoration that lingers in his eyes as he watches you happily devour the sweet treat?

You skipped to the car when you were finished, evidently very pleased with your ice cream endeavors and not at all apologetic for stealing all of the cookie dough for yourself, once again oblivious to the way he does it all for you. That would probably never change, and for the first time, Jisung wondered if that was okay. Did he want it to change? Did he want you to notice? He wasn’t sure what was best anymore.

And now here you both were, sitting at a red light while the sun sinks ever lower in the horizon, blue beginning to spread over the sky and little specks of stars finally becoming visible. Instead of looking at the street as he waits for the light to turn, he looks at you. You just looked so pretty, and all he could think of once again was how badly he wanted to kiss you.

Jisung wished he had words to put what he thought of you other than a simple “pretty” but that’s all that ever came to mind. So, so pretty, impossibly so. Pretty in a way that sunsets and oceans couldn’t ever compare, at least not in his mind- he would always find you better, no comparison ever being good enough to describe what he thought of you.

You’re in your own little world, humming along to the song playing through the speakers and tapping your fingers to the beat. However, it doesn’t take long for you to feel his eyes on you, your body alerting you to his lingering gaze and instructing you to look back at him. The sight you're met with when you turn your head makes your face immediately burn; Jisung isn’t simply glancing over at you, or trying to check in with you after a tiring day out. He’s blatantly staring at you.

“..Ji..?” his name barely leaves you, an unspoken question lingering in the air between you. Why is he looking at you like that? What was going through his head right now? Your face heats up exponentially, watching as his eyes travel over your features, seeming to take them in deeply. You instinctively hold in a breath when his eyes reach your lips, staring at them with an overt yearning.

Your surroundings fade, music no longer audible, the light of the sinking sun illuminating him beautifully and drawing you even further into his gaze. All there was in this moment was Jisung; he was all you could see, all you could focus on, and it was the same for him with you. You were always his first thought, always there at the forefront of his mind, but he always tried to push the deeper feelings away, because you’re his best friend and he shouldn’t think of you as anything more than that.

But right now, he can’t help it. His urge to kiss you is so strong, and he knows he can’t resist it the way he usually can. Your eyes that hold the entire world- no, the entire galaxy, his galaxy, in them makes his self control shatter. Maybe Changbin had a point when he said that summer was perfect for romance. Because the way you look at him, with eyes shining under the twinkling lights that blink on one by one with the fading sun- he loves you, he wants to be with you, and that desire is consuming him.

Your heart races as he leans closer to you, inch by inch. You lose all concept of time passing, a moment that in reality lasts mere seconds instead feeling like an eternity. You close your eyes, waiting; waiting for the moment you’ve craved for ages, for his lips to touch yours for the first time. How long had you pined for him?

It’s hard to say exactly; In high school, when he got his first love confession and accepted it, it broke your heart. But at the time, you thought it was just because it meant he would have less time for you, and with time you moved on, deciding it was important to be happy for your best friend even if it crushed you for reasons you didn’t entirely understand. And eventually you entered your first relationship as well, and for a time you could forget about how lonely you felt from not having Jisung always near you.

Neither of your respective first relationships lasted all that long; high school romances tend to dwindle as college draws near, after all. Life has a tendency to take people to different places, and some realize their ambitions faster than others. It saddened you at the time, but you weren’t going to alter your life for someone else and you didn’t expect anyone to do that for you either. After all, 20 is awfully early to decide not to follow your dreams for the sake of someone else.

But you and Jisung were still on the same path, and that had to mean something, right? It was like the days where you were distant never even occurred, the both of you picking up where you left off like no time had ever passed. You were as close as you’d ever been, still seeing each other at every opportunity, even when you were drowning in assignment deadlines and exhaustive study efforts. He made time for you, and you made time for him, even when it was hard. Didn’t that mean something?

Yes, it meant everything- at least it did to you. And so did he; Jisung meant everything to you. He always had, and you think he always will. You can feel his breath on you now, the warmth tickling your skin and your heart feeling like it’s going to burst from out of your chest as the gap between you closes. He’s so close to you, the closest he’s ever been. His lips drawn to yours, closer, closer, and then-

The shrill honk of a car from behind snaps you both from the moment. Jisung opens his eyes quickly, blinking for just a moment as reality settles back over him and he processes what was just about to happen. You do the same, turning your attention back towards the front and seeing that the traffic light had turned green while the two of you were lost in the moment you were sharing.

He swallows, mentally offering an apology to the cars behind him as he continues to drive you home. Fuck, he really got carried away. Was he really about to risk everything you had together by kissing you? What would happen to your friendship? He’s not supposed to like you, and you definitely don’t like him- at least, not romantically. He’s at least 60% sure of that; maybe even 70%. Get it through your head Jisung- you're just friends. Just. Friends.

You meanwhile are stuck in thought as well, though not in the same way. You feel light, almost? Buzzing with what could only be described as pure excitement, unfiltered joy seeping out of every pore. He was going to kiss you!! He was really going to! That meant he liked you, didn’t it? Or maybe he even loved you? Loved you in the same you loved him, wanted to be with you in the same way you wanted to be with him?

You take a peek in his direction, noticing his stiff hold on the steering wheel and the rigid way his body sits. He keeps his gaze straight forward, not daring to look at you, afraid of what expression he’ll be met with. He’d never forgive himself if he looked over to see you were upset with him, forever feeling like an idiot if it was his fault your friendship came to an end.

Maybe he’s just nervous, you think. That would make sense! He gathered his courage for a moment, and now he needed time to gather it again- it's not easy to overcome hesitation and let someone know how you feel about them, but this minor setback won't be the end of it. He’d definitely kiss you before the night was over! You’re sure of it!

Okay, maybe you weren’t entirely sure of it. Because he’s still stiff and nervous when he drops you off at your apartment building, offering a strained goodbye and eyes not quite meeting yours. That’s still okay! Jisung is just shy- that has to be it! It won’t be long before he kisses you, you’re sure of it- for real this time! …right? right!

Maybe you should stop saying you’re sure of things, because you’re never right. It’s been a week since Jisung almost kissed you, and he’s been avoiding you the entire time! You didn’t understand- surely he was over his shyness by now, right? How much longer was he going to make you wait? It was agony.

“Ji. Movie night at my place tonight. And I swear if you cancel again I’ll never forgive you !!!” you texted him dramatically, spamming various angry emojis for added effect. To your relief, Jisung agrees to come over and bring snacks as an apology for being busy. You don’t believe he was actually busy of course, but you’ll let him off the hook on that for now.

It's mid afternoon when he finally arrives, multiple bags full of snacks and sweet treats in hand. You smile and hug him tightly, noting that he’s still stiff but deciding not to dwell on that just yet- he’s finally here, after all! And if this plethora of snacks told you anything, it was that he genuinely was sorry for avoiding you.

He tosses the bags on the coffee table, and you throw on a random movie you’ve already seen before, because the movie ultimately doesn’t matter- it’s just an excuse to see Jisung again. Unlike his usual self, he sits on the complete opposite end of the sofa from you, putting an invisible wall between you. Well, that’s fine! You’ll just move closer!

You hear his breath hitch when you sit right next to him, glancing over just long enough to see you smiling at him. He’s so fucked- his feelings definitely aren’t under control enough for this; you're positively torturing him. How is he supposed to get over his feelings for you if you’re looking at him like that while sitting so close to him?

You purposely leave your hand close to his, waiting to see if he’ll hold it, but he doesn’t. He keeps his eyes straight ahead at the tv, evidently still scared to meet your gaze or be too close to you. Why? Why does he keep avoiding your eyes when you look at him? Why won’t he bring himself closer to you? Is he trying to forget it happened?

Does he not realize how badly you wanted him to kiss you? Maybe.. Maybe he’s scared to bring it up. Maybe he’s afraid of rejection, or of your friendship deteriorating from his outward admission. Maybe he’d rather bottle it back up, pretend he was never on the brink of kissing you, because losing you would be the worst thing that would ever happen to him.

Is he scared that you don’t have feelings for him? Is that why even now, when his feelings have all but been laid out, he’s avoiding the confrontation? But he doesn’t have to be afraid of that- you love him. If he’s unsure, then you need him to know, and you’ll tell him yourself.

"Jisung, look at me," you suddenly call to him, tone so serious that he can’t possibly ignore it. He swallows, forcing himself to finally meet your gaze head on, palms sweating as he anticipates what he’s most afraid of. "The other day, in your car… were you going to kiss me?" Fuck. He knew you were going to ask.

You watch his expression change as his face heats up, a not at all subtle red encroaching over his features. "O-Oh, I-" he starts to speak, but immediately stops, words dying in his throat. Fuck. God Dammit. Even though he knew this would happen, none of the scenarios he crafted in his head seemed to be of any assistance.

The excuses he conjured, the apologies that he knew he should utter, the words he thought he should say that were practiced over and over again.. All of that preparation failed him now, a sort of panic settling over him as his body tensed and hands clammed up further.

Honestly, watching him flounder for an excuse or explanation that would allow him to pretend he doesn’t have feelings for you is kind of funny, (and oddly cute), but now really isn’t the time to let it continue. Now, after years and years of secret pining, it’s time for both of you to lay out your feelings clearly, verbally.

"It would've been fine.. I wanted you to do it," you say with complete honesty, pushing away your own nerves and hesitation as far as you could. You couldn’t let your anxieties get the better of you now; you needed to say what you feel, and encourage Jisung to do the same, otherwise the two of you will always be stuck in the boundaries of friendship. You both need to swallow down the part of you that is scared and shy, or you’ll never move beyond what you are.

His eyes widened, mouth falling slightly agape in shock. What? Huh? You wanted him to kiss you? But that would mean even if you don’t love him like he loves you, you at the very least like him, and surely you didn’t. There is no way you like him like that, because that would mean his friends are right, and he’s a clueless idiot.

Fuck. Is he a clueless idiot?

"I'm in love with you, Ji," you finally admit for the first time aloud, and while it’s nerve wracking to say the least, it’s also a relief. Your feelings have been a secret for so long (at least to Jisung they were, cause lord knows you’re an open book otherwise), and it felt good to say it, to tell him right to his face that you love him. Even if you read into the situation completely wrong somehow, and he wasn’t trying to kiss you that day and didn’t like you, at least you no longer had to hide how you feel.

"Since.. since when?" he asks, still a bit stunned and entirely in disbelief. He can’t believe this is even happening, and there’s part of him that thinks this must be some elaborate dream; he must’ve fallen asleep during the movie, or maybe he never woke up this morning and this entire day has been part of a long dream. But no, he knows it isn’t a dream; because you are much too tangible, and no dream, no matter how vivid, compares to the reality of you.

"I-I don't know, since.. always?" you answer, a slight blush of your own crawling over your skin. You don’t remember the exact moment you realized you liked him as more than a friend anymore, as you were still just a kid then. But you know that by the time high school came, your seemingly small crush had developed into much more, and in recent months, you finally realized the true depth of that feeling.

Even when you were too young to understand what love is and what it felt like, even when you convinced yourself that everything you felt for him was purely platonic in nature, your feelings for Jisung were there. So.. since always. You’ve always wanted him close to you, always wanted your life to be spent with him by your side, always, always loved him above anyone else.

He groans loudly, throwing his arms up and covering his face in a display of anguish. "You're telling me you could've been my girlfriend this whole time?" You can’t help but giggle at his reaction, finding him impossibly cute and funny. “It’s not too late for me to be your girlfriend now,” you say, and he immediately peels his arms away from his face, looking at you as if you’ve said something that he only could’ve imagined in his wildest dreams.

“Do you mean that?” he asks, hope palpable in his tone, eyes pleading for this to not be something you’re saying just to tease him. “Of course I mean that, silly,” you giggle a little, reaching out for his hands and squeezing them in yours, “I meant everything I said.”

“Oh my god, thank god- I mean, you’re really going to be my girlfriend? You’re not just saying it, right? I don’t have to like. Pretend I don’t have feelings for you anymore? Because it’s been driving me insane, and I don't think I can do it anymore, you're way too pretty and-” “Jisung-! Shut up and kiss me already,” you interrupt his rambling, and he blinks once, twice, obliging your request as soon as the reality of your words settles over him.

When your lips finally touch his, it feels so right- like everything you’ve ever felt or experienced in your entire life was all to lead to this very moment. It’s sweet, addictive, intoxicating- everything you have ever wanted, ever hoped for, and more. His hands are hesitant, unsure of where they should rest and if it’s okay to touch you, but when you reach out to him and pull yourself closer, it’s all the permission he needs to let his hands wander.

Years worth of suppressed emotions bubble to the surface all at once, both of you caught in the tidal wave of repressed feelings and urges. Soft, slow timid kisses eventually turn into full ones, deep and impassioned, with all the weight of your feelings pressed into them. Your hands rest on his chest while his move down your waist, fingers lingering on your hips for just a moment before bringing them back up.

His tongue licks against your lip, tentative and almost shy, a silent hope lingering, an unspoken beg for your permission. You open your mouth, granting him what he desires with no restraint, your own tongue meeting his eagerly, coming together in a salacious dance. One of his hands reaches for the nape of your neck to keep you close, and you can feel him smile against your lips when it causes a noise of approval to involuntarily escape from your throat.

Both of your lips become red and swollen from their constant use, any sense of rhythm having completely degraded now that your open mouth kisses have turned into sloppy messes of tongue. It’s embarrassing how worked up he’s getting just from kissing you, and he desperately hopes you haven’t noticed how hard he’s gotten from it. But of course, you have noticed, and you definitely intend on doing something about it.

“Ji.. do you want to touch me?” you pull away from him to ask, and the reaction you get from him is immediate. “God, yes, can I?” The eagerness in his voice makes you giggle as you nod. “Just, uhm.. Get comfortable?” you suggest, shifting your position so that you’re on your heels, hands just slightly in front of you, making your intent clear to him- you want to be in his lap, and obviously he’s going to let you.

Jisung leans back on the sofa, watching you crawl in his lap with bated breath before you pull your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor beside you. You reach for one of his hands, guiding it to your chest, and he swallows thickly, the sight before him making him throb in his shorts. The fact that he gets to kiss you now, gets to touch you- it’s a dream come true. Though, the reality is much better than any of his many, many dreams of being with you.

He lifts his other hand to you as well, completely forgetting he's using it to support himself, making him fall completely back against the sofa, head thunking on the arm rest. You laugh as he lets out a small “ow!”, his clumsy nature always endearing to you, and especially so during this moment; it’s the sweet, goofy side of Jisung that made you fall in love with him, after all.

Jisung laughs with you once the sting fades, fully indulging in the sound of your laugh and the cute way your face scrunches, even if it is at his expense. You reach your hand to his head, rubbing it in soft, soothing gesture as you lean down, kissing him once more as he cups your breasts in his hands. The mewl you let out against his lips when he squeezes is enough to send him straight to heaven.

No, he already is in heaven, because nothing could be better than this; you on him, against him, kissing him, letting him touch and squeeze you to his heart's content. He lets out a hiss when you settle your full weight into his lap, his erection pressing directly against you. He gasps when you grind against him, and you use that as an opportunity to let your tongue back into his mouth.

You stay like that for some time, making out with each other while your fingers are tangled in his hair and his hands squeeze at your flesh, but you’re beginning to desire more, and you can tell Jisung is too, from the way his body reacts with every subtle move you make. You separate from him, sitting up and bringing your hands behind your back to unhook your bra and finally remove it.

“W-Wait, your roommates-” Jisung’s voice comes out urgently, abruptly propping himself up on his elbows as a realization hits him, “what if they come home? While you’re.. we’re..?” Oh. You were still in the living room, huh? That fact entirely left your mind, much too absorbed in the man underneath you to think about who could end up seeing the both of you like this.

Well, they knew you were inviting him over today, and knowing them, they’d likely stay out for a while to allow you to have alone time.. But still, it’d be better to not risk having them walk in on the sight of you half naked in your boyfriend’s lap. “My room, then?” you ask, carefully removing yourself from atop him, and Jisung nods eagerly, quickly rising to his feet the moment he is able.

You grab your shirt from the floor, ensuring you leave no evidence of your actions behind before leading Jisung to your room with quick, eager steps. He’s been in your room a million times, but it feels so different now, given the context of everything that happened moments before. You both stand there a moment, not hesitant, but rather shy, deciding how best you should proceed from here.

You eventually decide to sit on your bed first, shooting Jisung a soft smile afterwards that lets him know he’s welcome to come join you. So he does; he carefully sits next to you, the newfound shyness fully settling over the two of you. You were acting in the heat of the moment earlier, your bodies reacting before your minds could catch up, but now that you’ve both had a moment to process your actions, it fills you with butterflies.

There’s a moment where you stay like that, subtle blushes on your faces as you look at each other, before you speak up again, “Do you want to keep going..?” “Yes!” Jisung answers without even thinking, immediately clearing his throat after and trying to play off how eager he just sounded, “I mean, uhm- yes. Do you want to?”

The blush on his face flares when you giggle at him; he knows you aren’t laughing at him necessarily, but he can’t help the tinge of embarrassment that crawls up his spine. “Yes, I do,” you smile at him, and it’s so pretty and bright that he can’t even be flustered anymore; because more importantly than that, you want to keep going too- you want more, just like he does.

So he smiles too, reaching out to you and pulling you into a kiss, both of you giggling into it softly. The giggles fade out as the kiss becomes more heated, you gently pushing him back and crawling back on top of him when his head hits your pillows, returning to the position you were in previously.

Jisung’s hands are the ones that reach behind you this time, fumbling with the hooks of your bra while you kiss him with his face in your hands. Thankfully, he gets it undone on the third try, and you sit back up, letting it fall down your arms and subsequently tossing it aside. “..so beautiful,” he mumbles mostly to himself, but you still hear it, and it makes the blush on your face flare.

You grab at the hem of his shirt, wanting to see his body as well. He lifts himself off his back, helping you pull his shirt off, neither of you paying any mind to where it lands once it’s discarded. You trace your hands over him when he lays back again, from his broad chest to his slim waist, eyes drinking him in while your hands familiarize themselves with the feeling of his bare skin.

You’ve seen him shirtless countless times in recent years, so you’re no stranger to how attractive he is, but it’s different now; different because now you can openly admire him, and don't have to pretend to not notice that he’s built like a greek god. Even Adonis himself doesn’t hold a candle to the beauty of Han Jisung.

“You’re so pretty, Ji,” you tell him sincerely. The compliment makes the blush on his face darken, but he returns your smile, reaching his hands back up to you. “I should be saying that to you,” he responds, one of his hands resting on your waist, “you’re the prettiest thing in the world.” He brings his other hand to the nape of your neck just as before, gently pulling you back to him before you can reply, his tongue grazing your lips when they touch again.

He brings your hands to breasts now, cupping them in his hands as he did before. He can feel your breath shudder when his thumbs brush over your nipples, a soft mewl pouring into his mouth when he rubs them between his fingers. The stimulation makes your entire body shiver, your hips grind down in search of some sort of relief, soft groans leaving Jisung every time you press your body down on his cock.

You separate from the kiss, one your hands reaching between your bodies, settling on the waistband of his shorts. “Is this okay?” you ask, watching him for any sign of hesitation or apprehension, but there’s none to be found. Instead, you’re met with eager, twinkling eyes, anticipation written all over him as he nods, a soft “yes, please,” leaving him in a quick breath.

You shove his waistband down just enough to free his cock from its confines, a hiss escaping him when your fingers begin to trace him up and down. Your fingers gather the pre-cum leaking from his tip, spreading it over his length easily, and turning him into a wet, sticky mess. He watches in breathless awe when your hand wraps around him, entranced by the visual before him.

You, so beautiful and lovely, with your pretty hands on and around him, watching him and the way his body reacts to you with sweet salacity. He lets out a breathy groan when you begin to pump him earnestly, his eyes closing despite how badly he wants to keep watching. Your hand just feels so much better than his, so much softer and perfectly warm.

You watch his face, committing to memory the way it contorts, the way his brows furrow and teeth sink into his bottom lip. You memorize the way his chest rises and falls with each quick breath, the way his thighs tremble, the way his stomach contracts as you drive him closer and closer to release.

“Sungie,” you call to him, slowing your pace down just enough for him to be able to easily open his eyes and look at you, “want you in my mouth- is that okay? Can I?” “Oh my god, yes, please, you don’t even have to ask,” he says between shallow breaths, far too excited to have your mouth on him to be embarrassed by the desperate display he’s putting on.

He props himself on his elbows, watching you scoot yourself down his legs and bringing your face right up to his cock. Your tongue comes out first, collecting the pre-cum with long, drawn out licks, and fuck, the sight alone is enough to have his eyes rolling back. You kiss the tip before you wrap your lips around him, his head falling back and curses leaving his lips as you sink your head down on him.

His hands grip at your sheets, desperately trying to hold himself back from bucking his hips up and choking you, because the last thing he wants is to accidentally hurt you. But fuck, your mouth feels so amazing, he almost can’t breathe. “God, fuck-” he gasps when his cock touches the back of your throat, your tongue rubbing the underside so perfectly.

He’s trying to hold it back, desperate to feel your tongue on him longer, to have your lips wrapped around him for just another moment, but he can’t. He releases with a strained cry, his cum filling your mouth in quick spurts. The unfamiliar feeling causes you to gag at first, but you recover quickly, swallowing all he has to give you happily.

You release him from your mouth when you feel him begin to soften, laying next to him with a soft, satisfied smile on your face. “Was it good?” you ask him and he lets out a breathless laugh before he answers. “So good, seriously, you’re amazing,” he says, turning his head to look at you with a small smile of his own to match yours, “but you already knew that, didn’t you? You just wanted me to say it.”

“Maybe,” you giggle, and Jisung does as well, shifting to his side and pulling your body closer to his. He kisses you once more, tasting himself on your lips, but not at all minding it- in fact, he finds that he actually really likes it. It’s fucking hot, if he’s being honest. But there’s one thing that would make it even hotter- if your taste was on his tongue too.

“I want to make you feel good too,” he says, fingers resting on your hips, just above your own waistband, “is that okay with you? Can I?” The question makes your stomach flip, thighs pressing together at the idea of Jisung between your legs- you really want it. “Yes, I- I want you to.”

With your affirmation, he lifts himself off the bed and lets you lay back, deciding to remove the last of his clothing before settling between your legs once you’re comfortable. His fingers hook in your waistband now, ready to take your shorts and underwear off together in one motion. He looks at you before he does, taking in your expression that is filled with shy anticipation, eyes traveling down your body next, stopping where his hands rest on your hips.

God, he feels like a virgin again with the way his hands tremble, the thought of you seeing you bare leaving him as nervous as it does excited. Why does his heart feel like it’s going to burst out of his chest? He’s eager, he knows that, and shyness still lingers, but there’s something else there that’s making his heart race out of control.

It’s because he loves you, if he had to guess. You turn him to putty, one look from you enough to reduce him to a mere puddle. He doubts you know the effect you have on him, as he’s spent so much time trying to hide it, but he doesn’t have to anymore. Jisung can love you fully now- no need to hold back, to push it aside, to try and disguise it as the platonic love between friends.

He can hold you in his arms, can feel your lips on his, can touch your bare skin, can put his all into making you as happy as you make him. He looks back at your face again, your expression is similar to his own. Eager trepidation written in your eyes, love and adoration lingering underneath.

Your eyes meet his once more, shy but certain, and you smile at him, the way you always have. A smile that makes his brain go fuzzy, that fills him with a sweet desire, that makes him whole. You, the brightest star in his galaxy, so beautiful and perfect, whom he once thought was out of reach but now sits in hands, radiating love and warmth.

If he is your Adonis, then you’re his Aphrodite; when you are together, the sun shines brighter, the world more vibrant, more beautiful, all because you’re there with him. He’ll love you until his last breath, and he knows you’ll do the same, a promise unspoken for now, but will one day leave him earnestly, down on one knee with a ring in hand.

“I love you,” he tells you as he leans down, kissing you before you can utter a reply, slowly pulling your clothing down your legs as he does. Jisung’s earnest admission, paired with his actions, makes the heat on your face flare and body tremble, hands coming up to cover your face once the kiss is over as an even more intense shyness settles over you.

“Love you too,” you mutter, face feeling impossibly hot. Sure, you already admitted it earlier, but it’s your first time hearing it from Jisung, and the fact that he’s saying it during an intimate moment while looking at you like that? Your heart simply can’t handle it. Peeking through your fingers, you can see him smiling as he carefully pushes your legs apart and it makes a whine unconsciously leave you.

“Baby,” his voice calls to you, and the use of the petname from him definitely does your heart no favors, “why are you covering your face? It’s just me.” “That’s the problem- it’s you,” you mumble, just barely managing to peel your hands away from your face to give him a pout. Doesn’t he know that the way you’re acting now is entirely his fault? It was much easier to push past your shyness when the focus was on him instead of you.

Jisung isn’t used to seeing this bashful side of you and God, it’s so cute that he might have fallen for you even harder than before (if that’s even possible.) He smiles again, and you swear this surge of confidence from him has to be illegal- because the effect it has on you is positively lethal. Han Jisung is going to be the death of you.

“You’re so wet,” he speaks softly in your ear, fingers rubbing through your folds and coating them in the proof of your excitement. “Jisung-” you whine once more, but before you can cover your face again, his other hand comes up to stop you. “Please let me see you. I need to know how you feel when I’m touching you. Okay, baby? Please.”

Fuck. How can you say no after hearing that? You concede with a nod, lowering your hands in a silent promise to do your best to look at him, to let him see you no matter how shy or overwhelmed you may get; because if it’s what Jisung wants, you’ll do your best to ensure he has it.

“Thank you,” he smiles as he gives you a quick peck on the lips, “in return I’ll make sure you feel so good. Are you ready?” You nod again, but quickly realize he wants you to actually say it, so you swallow down your nerves the best you can to allow yourself to speak. “Yes, I- I’m ready. Make me feel good, please.”

His two middle fingers press against your hole, using the tips of his fingers to check for any resistance before carefully pushing fully inside. His first motions are slow, making sure you’re well adjusted to the feeling of his fingers and observing you for any changes in expression. Your body jolts when he finds the spot inside you that makes you see stars, head falling back as an unintentionally loud moan escapes you.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, eyes squeezing shut, whimpers and moans unable to be held back with the way his fingers repeatedly prod at your spot. “Does it feel good? You like how my fingers feel inside you?” He asks, and even though you can’t see the smile anymore, you can hear it. You nod repeatedly, mouth opening to try to tell him, though all that escapes you are embarrassingly loud sounds of pleasure.

“Can’t say it? That’s okay, your pussy is telling me everything I need to know. You’re squeezing my fingers so tight,” he says in your ear, pressing a kiss to your skin after. Oh, you liked that a lot- he can tell by the way you clench around his fingers, legs trembling and hands twisting the sheets beneath you. Maybe the fact that he talks a lot will be a good thing for once.

“You gonna cum soon? Want to cum all over my fingers? Go ahead baby, I want to see it, show me how good you feel.” “Oh my god, Ji-” you gasp; you’re so, so close- you just need one thing to finally push you over the edge. “K-Kiss, please, need a kiss,” you practically beg, looking at him with watery eyes and pouty lips.

Holy fuck, does that make him crumble. How could anything be simultaneously so cute and fucking hot? He leans down to meet your request, free hand moving to cup your face while his fingers continue their ministrations, and that’s all you need to finally come undone. Your entire body shakes, eyes rolling back as your release soaks his fingers. He keeps kissing you even as you come down from your high, letting you pull back for air as you please but always capturing your lips again as soon as he is able.

You whine when he finally slips his fingers out of you, watching shyly as he brings them to his mouth to lick clean. His eyes stay on yours the entire time, and it makes the heat on your face intensify beyond what you thought was possible. He kisses you once more when he’s finished, tongue coaxing you to open your mouth, both your tastes melding together on your tongues, just as he wanted.

He’s hard again too- you can feel his cock pressing against you, begging for more stimulation that you’re more than happy to give. “Ji-” you pull away from his lips to long enough to speak, “please fuck me.” He groans at your words, opening his eyes to look at you before he continues, “I will, I promise I’ll make you feel so good. But, I- I, uhm, I don’t have anything, I didn’t expect anything to happen, so..”

“That’s okay. I trust you Ji,” you reply, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as you reach your hand to his face, “love you so much, just want you inside me.” He groans again, kissing you sweetly as he aligns himself with your entrance. “You’re sure?” he pulls away to ask first, “It’s okay to change your mind, I can run out and grab condoms and-”

You smile, shutting him up with a kiss before he can continue to ramble. You appreciate the offer, and the sweet consideration he has for you, but.. “I’m so sure, I promise. I want this.” He returns your smile when you pull away, reaching one of his hands to grab yours, squeezing it before intertwining your fingers together. “As long as you’re sure, I’ll give you everything you want,” he says, a promise that extends beyond just this moment- anything and everything he has to give, it’s yours for as long as you want it.

Jisung can’t help but let out a moan as he sinks inside you, eyes closing and head falling forward at the immediate overwhelming pleasure your body brings him. You squeeze his hand, your other one coming up to hold his face; you can feel the heat radiating off his cheek, can see the sweat that lingers on his brow and makes his hair stick to his forehead.

When he opens his eyes to look at you again, his stomach erupts in butterflies, heart squeezing in his chest. You’re just as sweaty as him, face flushed and hair disheveled, and yet it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever been- and you’re smiling; the pretty smile that always turns his brain to mush and snatches his breath away.

God, he can’t take it- he needs to calm down before the sight of you, paired with the mind-numbing pleasure that’s encompassing him, gives him a heart attack. "Sungie, are you okay?" you ask after a moment passes, concern growing on your face as you continue to hold his face in your hand.

"Fuck, y-yeah, I'm fine, I- I just.. this is so embarrassing, but I just like- need a minute," he admits almost breathlessly, as if even the act speaking to you is a struggle- and in a way it is, because all his concentration is being poured into not cumming just from seeing your pretty face, or your beautiful body underneath him while being squeezed by your walls.

"Take your time, I'm not going anywhere," you tell him sincerely, squeezing his hand in reassurance as you lean up to kiss him. You understand why he’s embarrassed, but you hope he knows that when he’s with you, he doesn’t have to be; you love him no matter what. Besides, you have to admit you like that you have such a profound effect on him. And while the kiss doesn’t help calm his heart by any means, he appreciates your sweetness endlessly, meeting your lips eagerly despite himself.

When his hips finally move, the sweet sound that pours from your lips sends a shiver through his entire body. He wants, needs, to hear it again, more and more, until his name is the only thing lingering on your tongue, the only thing you are capable of uttering between your pleasured moans. “So pretty, everything about you, your body, the sounds you make, so pretty,” he tells you, though his lips barely leave yours long enough to say it.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging just enough to draw a whine from him, and he knows he’s done for. Every sound, every touch, every glance, no matter how soft or how subtle drives him further into overwhelming bliss. He’s drowning in you, in the love and relief you offer him, lost in the abyss that is your care. He brings his hands to your legs, lifting them up and effectively folding you in half, aiming to find the spot that’ll have you crying out for him.

It only takes a few experimental thrusts to find it, and the way clench around him, voice ringing loudly in his ears as your legs tremble in his hold, it’s enough to make him want to cum right then and there. His pace quickens, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches your body react to him, desperate to hold back his need to cum for as long as he can manage, just so he can have this view of you for a while longer.

But when you start to whine his name, when you breathlessly tell him you can feel him twitching inside you, can feel him so deep and how you feel so good- his restraint crumbles in an instant, falling apart for you far too easily. His hips stutter as he drills into you, thrusts becoming sloppy as he chases his high. You bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles, wanting nothing more than to cum with the person you’ve loved your entire life.

"Oh my fucking god, feels so good, you feel so good, I- f-fuck, I can't-" he babbles against your skin, his high so dangerously close, but doing his best to hold it back just for you, so that you can cum together. “Baby, ‘m so close, gonna cum, want you to cum with me, please, please cum with me,” he begs, voice easily the most whiny and desperate you’ve ever heard it, and your body reacts almost instantly, as if his word was the command you needed to finally let go.

You use your free hand to pull him into a messy, open mouthed kiss, eyes rolling back as you finally cum on his cock and let him swallow every noise you make. Your entire body tenses and shudders, his cock twitching as you squeeze him tighter, pleasured groans and curses tumbling from his lips as cum shoots into you, fucking you through your shared highs. He continues to fuck you until overstimulation and sensitivity takes hold, his body trembling as he pulls out of you.

He promptly lies next to you, arms wasting no time in wrapping around you, hugging you closely to himself as the two of you collect your breath. You can’t help but smile as you look at him, and he does the same, his unwavering love and joy meeting your own. You recognize that you should probably get up, should clean up and get dressed now before your roommates get home, but you simply don’t want to.

You wiggle closer, pressing yourself against him, letting out a content sigh when his arms squeeze you tighter. You close your eyes for a moment, indulging in the security Jisung brings you, the love, the support, the safety of his touch, of his presence. He kisses the top of your head, meeting your cute, gentle smile with one of his own.

When he looks at you, and sees the pure, obvious love written in your eyes, he's not sure how he always missed it. You look at him the way he looks at you- like he holds your entire world in his hands, the sincerest form of love shining in every glance, bleeding into every touch. Your smile, sweet and content, eyes soft and full of adoration; they tell him everything. Even without words, he knows- you love him, now and always. A promise, unspoken but understood, that you'll always be together, that you'll always have each other.

Jisung takes his time now, to do all the things he imagined he would do if he was ever granted this moment; he holds you close, he plants kisses all over you, he tells you how pretty you are, how perfect and beautiful, until you're giggling, a cute pink blush spreading on your cheeks as you playfully tell him to stop. And when he does, and you look at him with your gleaming eyes and adorable smile, he tells you he loves you, just as he's always wanted to.

hello ! if you're here then thank you for reading ! the inspo for the events of this fic come from 2 love songs i used to listen to all the time when i was in middle school- white lines and red lights + darlin' by between the trees ! they're quite old now, so i wouldn't be surprised if these songs are obscure to people fdghdfg but if you look up the lyrics you'll definitely see where the inspo plays into the fic lol it's honestly not at all subtle :')

i had wanted to write a fic with those songs as a basis for YEARS but i never did cause other ideas i had took my priority. but this prompt felt like the perfect time to finally write the fic i had been envisioning for years so i'd like to say thank you to the people behind skzwritingcafe for giving me the inspo i needed to see this idea thru <3

#skzwritingcafe #skzsummertimeconfessions #skz x reader #jisung x reader #han x reader #skz smut #jisung smut #han smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #literally uploading this at 4am i am going straight to bed after this :')#mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

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nanaminsmoon · 9 months

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Heyyy imagine rich CEO!Nanami and his spoiled gf who’s stressed in grad school and starts getting bratty in his office or with their friends or something

GIRL this took way longer than it should've because i had a little writer's block. but nanami is my favourite fictional husband and the chairman of nanaminsmooninc so i had to do him justice and i hope you like it🤭

cw: nanami kento x blackfem!reader, office sex, nami is a little brat tamer, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), nanami ties reader up🤭, nanami calls reader; 'my love', 'dear', 'sweetheart'

wc: 3839

”keep them open”, nanami chided, as he pushed your legs further apart. tied to his office chair, you had nowhere to run so your body tried anything it could to get you away from the overwhelming pleasure his mouth was giving you. nanami kento was a man of principle, and concrete morals; austere. his life was fairly plain; his only luxury in life falling from heaven and presenting itself in the form of a grad school student he bumped into in a restaurant. you were a breath of fresh air for lungs that had been inhaling and exhaling on autopilot, just as a means of staying alive. and now, he breathed to take in your scent, as a means of feeling closer to you. he liked how different you were to him; joyful, starry-eyed, and ambitious—ready to take on the world. being the ceo of his own investment company, nanami felt like he had achieved all he wanted to, so he no longer needed to reach for the stars. as well as the fact that, with you in his life, the stars were closer to him than they had ever been.

there wasn’t a single thing he would change about you, you were perfect as you were. but that’s not to say that he didn’t do so inadvertently. see, the thing is that nanami loved to spoil you. if he could take all the good things in the world, and package them in pretty pink wrapping paper for you then he truly would. and he always made sure you knew that; ”if you want it, then it’s yours, sweetheart”, he’d tell you as you stood hand in hand in a store, looking longingly at a pair of shoes. ”i work hard so i can buy you all these pretty things”, he’d whisper onto your skin, as his lips made quick work of replacing the lingerie that had once adorned it.

his need to bring you joy through anything your heart desired had never been an issue, for either of you. until an…odd conversation with gojo and megumi took place.

”you’re too lenient with her, nanamin. sometimes you need to treat her the way you treat me”, were gojo’s words that were met with a light scoff and eyeroll from the pokerfaced blonde. before he went on to say,

“i am not, satoru. and the sky would fall before i treat y/n the way i treat you”. of course, gojo had laughed loudly in his face; both at the obvious lie at the beginning of nanami’s sentence, and the snide comment at the end of it. but nanami’s shoulders had risen and fallen in a defeated shrug, as he was far too used to satoru’s antics, and unsolicited dating advice. so he refocused his attention to the coffee in front of him. what he wasn’t used to, however, was others reaffirming gojo’s words. especially not megumi, of all people.

”i don’t agree with that last part, but you do spoil her”, he had chimed in, and nanami nearly choked on his hot drink. not because of megumi’s comment, but because of the fact that the raven-haired boy was actually agreeing with his white-haired guardian. and shock turned into food for thought at megumi’s final comment,

”she’s great. but…just look at how she is now, and think about how she was when you first met her. that’s all.”.

nanami’s chance to observe your supposed change in behaviour presented itself at a lunch you had planned for him and one of your friends. not the most comfortable socialising with those he didn’t know very well, nanami had initially declined your offer. but, after some time sat in the desk chair of his home office, with you between his legs, and his fingers painfully digging into his armrests, he had conceded. and now you were sat in a café you had seen on tiktok and had been wanting to go to for a while. nanami’s worries about conversating with someone nearly 10 years his junior disappeared quite quickly once he realised his conversation wasn’t particularly needed. you and your friend talked and giggled, silence only gracing the table when either of you had to chew your food. so far, he didn’t understand what gojo and megumi were talking about. you were still the charming, cute you he had met a year ago. but then you and your friend began discussing another friend’s birthday dinner,

”you can’t wear that”, he had heard you say, and he knew that tone of voice all too well—you weren’t saying that lightly. you were demanding it of your friend. he didn’t want to admit to himself that he was beginning to see gojo and megumi’s point, so he just listened in hopes that it was all some big misunderstanding. he almost cut a crack into his plate—too focused on the words you were saying, his body was working on its own.

”why not~?”, your friend rebutted, evidently upset. but, even still, you pressed on.

”because i’m wearing baby blue!”, your voice raised in pitch, and nanami knew something wasn’t right. so, he’d step in to calm you down.

”what’s wrong with wearing the same colour?”, he had said with a light laugh to brighten the mood, but he was met with a very serious look.

”everything, ‘nami. we can’t. the pictures won’t look nice if two of us are wearing the same colour but no one else is.”, you rolled your eyes, ”it’s either all of us wear blue, or only one of us. and that only one will be me since i’ve already picked out my outfit.”, the discussion ended there, and lunch carried on. nanami was present physically, but, mentally he was all over the place. it had to be his fault that you had developed this ’my way, or the highway’ mentality, because you were most definitely not like this when the two of you first met. but he would try his best to hush those thoughts, and the three of you would finish your lunch (which he would pay for) before going your separate ways.

you had always been his sweet girl, so obviously he wanted to just give you the benefit of the doubt. but that became increasingly difficult when you came skipping into his office after your last class.

“nami~~~”, you had practically sung his name as you just walked right into the office to sit on one of the chairs in front of his desk. his assistant chasing after you told him that you probably hadn’t even waited to be let in. because just two minutes before, nanami had been in a meeting and now he was looking through mission statements. if his assistant had gotten to you before you made your way to your boyfriend’s office, he would’ve told you to wait a few more minutes so nanami could finish up what he was doing. that made nanami tilt his head in thought. but what really got to him was the way that, upon sitting down, you had immediately started scrolling through your phone. not even greeting your him. your first words to him had been,

“so~ this is the fit~”, you held your phone to him, but he didn’t even bother to lift his head to look at the screen. his eyes, instead, remaining trained on the papers in front of him.

“hm.”, he hummed. but, too concerned with the picture on your screen, you bypassed his passive response, and just carried on as always.

“which card should i use? black card as usual?”, you said, finally getting up to walk to his side of the table. the fact that you hadn’t even done so much as ask him how his day had been so far made nanami’s eye twitch—you were nothing like the girl he had fallen in love with, and he only had himself to blame.

“your own, preferably.”, he said, still sifting through papers. that comment was the one that snapped you out of your reverie, and brought you back to reality. nanami never made you pay for anything; dinners, clothes, tuition, hair, nails, if it required compensation, nanami would always be the one to provide it. unless you had done something to upset him. which, to your memory, you hadn’t.

“what?”, you’d move closer to him, putting an arm around his shoulders to rub one gently. his perfect posture meant he sat level with the tits he loved ever so much, but he wouldn’t flinch. although his dress trousers were a little more uncomfortable than they had been when you first walked in, he would try his best to focus on the words on the pages in front him. despite the fact he had been reading the same one over and over again,

”’nami. what d’you mean?”, you’d ask, gently kissing his temple.

“i'm not paying for that outfit”, and the distraught pout his eyes would see when he’d look up would nearly make him give in to you. but that’s what had gotten both of you in this predicament in the first place; the fact that he was far too easy to persuade, and the fact you took full advantage of that.

he’d finally tell you his reasons behind his decision, much to your dismay,

“not until you apologise to your friend”, was all he said before finally turning back to his work. he’d note the enraged expression on your face but, with his assistant still being stood in his office, nanami would just ignore it. number one on nanami’s list of pet peeves was gojo satoru making a scene. especially in front of an employee he spent most of his days with. you, on the other hand, had different plans,

”for what?”, you practically yelled, but nanami’s calm demeanour didn’t waver.

“the way you spoke to her at lunch.”, he said. but, this time, he’d take a risk and look up at you, “y/n, that's no way to speak to someone you call a friend”, he cannot be serious, you thought.

“you're mean to satoru all the time”, your arm moved from his shoulder in outrage. who was he to judge you and the way you acted? you hadn’t even done anything too crazy and if you had, then your friend would’ve brought it up. which she didn’t.

“that's different”, nanami shook his head.

“is not. just admit you're a hypocrite and go date her then. since you love her so much.”, nanami’s eyes would move from you to his assistant very quickly, nodding an apology in his direction. he’d start wondering why the kid hadn’t left until he’d see the young man tapping at his wrist, reminding nanami about the meeting he had in a few minutes.

“since you wanna be her knight in shining armour, go live with her and she can be your little good girl”, you continued, gesticulating wildly as you just ranted in this man’s face. somehow, he’d get a hold of your hands, hold them in his, and look directly in your eyes.

”y/n, calm down”, he’d talk gently.

nanami knew you were going through a lot; exam season was upon you, and that took a huge toll on you emotionally. he hated seeing you stressed out and had even gone as far as suggesting you drop out so he could just take care of you. but you had refused. getting a masters degree isn’t an easy feat, but it’s something you wanted for yourself. and he accepted that and let you do whatever you saw fit for yourself and your future. even if it meant being at the brunt of your stress induced rants. but what he wouldn’t accept was disrespect. and embarrassing him in front of his colleagues was one of the highest forms of disrespect to nanami.

”y/n. calm. down.”, his words slowed after they seemed to have no effect on you the first time.

”i am fucking calm!”, you removed your hands from his grasp, his assistant being in the room not once being of concern to you.

”watch that mouth”, nanami had said that quietly, in order to not make you feel awkward in front of his assistant. but, once again, those considerations were not reciprocated,

”and if i don’t? then what?”, you poked his shoulder, and nanami nodded to his assistant to tell him to leave the room. as soon as that door closed, nanami stood up to tower over you as he loosened his tie.

”why are you so stubborn?”, he had asked through gritted teeth, as he bound your hands to the chair with his tie. as annoyed as he was, he made sure the knot was loose enough to not hurt you. even kissing your cheeks and neck lightly to ease your nerves. the intensity of his actions would only increase when a lingering kiss on your neck would sting in a way the others hadn’t, ultimately leaving a mark. but that would be the only one, because nanami was never harsh with you. even if you had upset him; no matter the circumstances, his intentions were never to hurt you. so his hands were soft as he lifted up your sundress, slapping your thigh gently to get you to lift your hips so he could push the dress to your stomach. their softness did not falter, even when he slapped your thighs again so you would aid him in sliding your underwear down your legs. your offences would then spill from his lips as he span your underwear on his finger,

”swearing at me, telling me to leave you, calling me a hypocrite, giving the nickname i gave to you to someone else. all in front of my assistant, of all people. and for what?”, nanami saw your eyes move to the ceiling, trying to escape him, and he grabbed your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.

”for some stupid fucking fabric that i’d end up ripping off you anyway?”, he shook your face lightly, and took note of how your mouth blew minty breath in his face, in a scoff.

”watch your mouth”, you spoke, echoing his words. the question of what to do with your underwear had been plaguing his mind since he took it off; his first instinct being to stuff it in his pocket. but your words inspired him, and he twirled it around his fingers, forming a ball. then he put it in your mouth. pushing it a bit further when he heard an outraged muffle from you.

”i take it out when you learn to be nice”, he spoke gently, as if your panties weren’t in between your teeth, ”if i’m the reason you’re such a brat, then i’ll have to be the one who fixes the mess that i’ve made of you”.

and how did nanami plan on fixing that mess? by making an even bigger mess of you, and cleaning it up with his tongue. that would be the bigger mess that was now all over his office chair, and dripping all the way down his chin. the same mess he had missed his meeting to make, and clean, in a vicious cycle that had made you cum twice. your, usually, attentive boyfriend paid no attention to the tears falling from your eyes. the only liquid he was focused on was the one wetting his dress shirt. even as the high pitched mumbles that resembled his name resonated from above him, all he’d do is pull back momentarily to place a light slap on your clit. making teasing eye contact at knowing the effect of that contact.

”where’s that attitude of yours, my love?”, he joked, kissing at random places on your legs on his way back to your dripping core. your fingers itched to be submerged in the blonde locks in front of you but, being tied up, all you could do was grab at the armrest as he licked and sucked at your clit. all feelings akin to stress were swiftly replaced by the feeling of pain, gifted to you by your cramping feet, as your toes curled underneath you. not only was your jaw stiffening, but the spit your underwear didn’t soak up dripped down the side of your mouth to glide down your neck—the neckline of your light grey dress darkening. the third time you came all over nanami’s face would having you practically screaming his name, as you had the other two times. although it was all being swallowed by the underwear in your mouth, nanami was glad that the only reason you were raising your voice at him was to express how good he was making you feel.

that third nut would almost drive you to hysteria and, even if this was meant to be a punishment, nanami would be nice enough to let you calm down before untying you. his lips would then rise to meet yours, allowing you to taste yourself on him. the taste of your arousal was strongest on his tongue, and he’d tease you with it before pulling away from you. you’d barely get to catch your breath before nanami picked you up, pressing your chest against his desk. that one spot he had bitten earlier would omit a back arching tingle at its reunion with nanami’s lips.

”’nami, please just…”, you’d breathe out, putting your hands on the desk in a futile attempt to regain some control.

”shh”, he’d whisper onto the skin on your neck, grabbing both of your hands to hold them in one of his. they’d be pinned behind your back as he pressed your face onto the desk. he wouldn’t say anything else, all you’d hear and feel would be the sound of his large hand meeting the flesh on your hip. that would be followed by the sound of his belt unbuckling, and his zip undoing. nanami had always been a man of very few words but today, he spoke none because he had none. the only thing on his mind was the scene of entitlement you had displayed earlier. and how he would now have to fuck you hard enough to knock it all out of you.

it was easy to tell when nanami wasn’t happy with you because his thrusts would carry less speed. he’d fuck into you very slowly, making your moans raise in pitch as your toes dug harder into your shoes. on days like these, your pleasure was not his priority, your behaviour was. so he’d dangle your release in front of your face; pulling out of you completely, only to slam right back into you. the pattern would continue until you apologised to him, and fixed your bratty attitude. so that’s why your cheeks were still smashed against nanami’s discarded papers. with your cervix pleading with your brain to make your mouth produce some noise so the slow, but deep, thrusts would hasten. but your jaw had long gone slack, so the papers beneath you were sticking to both each other, and the side of your face. but you’d put together whatever words you could to get some relief.

”kento, faster. please~”, your boyfriend’s thrusts had you holding your breath, making your moans breathy.

”there you go making demands again”, he scolded, pulling out of you completely to tap his tip on your ass cheeks.

”maybe i’m not fucking you hard enough. or maybe you’re being deviant on purpose.”, he leaned down to your face so you could hear him, ”have i been too nice to you, dear? so now you don’t know how to act?”, when you shook your head, his own would do the same.

”and now you’re lying? what am i to do with you with, my love?”, he’d place one final gentle kiss on your cheek before pulling back and entering you again. faster and, somehow, harder.

you wanted to apologise but with the way he was fucking you dumb, it was hard to think of anything other than the bruising grip he had on your hips. as well as the noise of his balls hitting your skin. but nanami’s patience had run out, and he expected your rehabilitation to be imminent. and when he saw that it wasn’t, his agitation grew deeper.

”you wanna embarrass me in front of my employees?”, he’d lean his chest on your back again to speak directly into your ear. skin slapping would be the only sound in that room after that question. because you didn’t have the physical strength to multitask. your body wanted to focus on moving you back onto nanami’s dick to fuck yourself on it. even still, you’d try to shake your head at him again,

”n-no, ‘nami, i’m s-sorry”, nanami simply tsked before looking to his office phone, to press the button that connected him to his assistant’s desk. panic flowed through you at the thought of someone hearing you being fucked against nanami’s desk, then having to walk out of there like nothing happened. before, you could’ve lied and said you guys were just arguing. but there’d be no denying it if they heard you through the damn phone.

”tell him you’re sorry, sweetheart”, nanami hummed into your ear, his hand lifting you backwards to bring you closer to the mic on the phone.

”i’m s-sorry. i’m s-so s-sorry—sshit, ‘nami i’m cummingg”, the embarrassment that would follow someone hearing you moan because of how good nanami was fucking you wasn’t a worry for a moment as you just let go. luckily you were leaned against the desk because, if not, you would’ve fallen over because of how weak your knees were. **the man behind you simply laughed to himself, just imagining how mortified his assistant would be at hearing you. his own release would not be a concern to him, as your discipline was still the only thing on his mind. and that’s how it’d be for however long you were in there. in the end, he’d buy the outfit for you because he couldn’t stop spoiling you even if he tried. but, this time, he’d at least make you earn it.

#nanaminsmooninc #jjk x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x black y/n #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #nanami x black!reader #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami smut

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sundaysunny · 2 years

Text

Holy Mary

pairings: jeno x reader

genre: romance, summer romance, churchboy!jeno (kind of), pining, fluff, angst

tw: sexual content, mentions of depression, religious trauma

word count: 13.5k

synopsis: you spend every summer at your grandparents lake side home in France. Most of the time you spend in the lake, painting or reading. The village is slow and life feels very relaxed. When a new priest turns up at the local church, your grandmother manages to convince you to attend a service which ends in you becoming infatuated with one of the priests sons, Lee Jeno. Jeno is a reserved man, he likes calm and quiet. His past trauma has effected his ability to maintain friendships and relationships. But when he meets you, he feels at home.

authors notes: this was inspired by Mary on a cross by Ghost! i also like to project my daddy issues and religious trauma onto people so enjoy! also! the south of france *chefs kiss* beautiful place, i want to go back so badly! and i recently learnt that catholic priests can remain married if they’re married before becoming ordained so that’s cool ig, it kinda inspired this story a little bit. ALSO! i would just like to clarify that this is just a story and i don’t share any of the opinions of the characters in the story. nor do i think jeno has any of these opinions. ITS JUST A STORY <3 also i can’t write smut to save my life but here u go

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

Most of your summers were spent by the lakes, at your grandparents lake house in France. The effervescent water sparkled under the sun, little ripples forming when the wind gently blew. The lakes had always fascinated you. You weren’t sure if it was the calmness being near water brought you or the memories of splashing around in them when you were a child, but you always felt very close to them.

You spent most of your summers painting too, mostly by the lake. Your grandmother tried to encourage you to sell your paintings, claiming that they ‘conveyed so much passion and emotion.’ You didn’t agree, you just wanted to paint. Today was no different, you sat by the lake and sketched out the lay of the land, preparing for your next painting. You watched your brothers splash around in the water with some other boys from the village. You could see the pure joy in their faces and made a mental note to try and capture that in your painting.

It wasn’t long before the midday sun became unbearable. You could feel it scorching your skin despite the thick layers of SPF your grandmother had lathered you and your siblings in. You decided it was probably best for you to go in for a while and get out of the sun. Your brothers were probably hungry too, with it being midday. You shouted over to them, both their heads turning as you beckoned them over and told them it was time to go in for some lunch. You began to collect all your belongings and head up to the house.

“There’s a new priest starting at the church this Sunday. I’d like it if you came this week, it would make a good first impression.” Your grandmother spoke up as you helped her set the table. You glanced over at the lake as you placed another fork down. “Really?” You mumbled, not really listening. “Yes, it would be good for you to get back in touch with your religion. Your mother tells me you don’t attend church back at home either.” Your grandparents were very religious, and they expected the same from their grandchildren. The reference to home made you feel sad for a moment. Although you loved coming to the lakes to see your grandparents, you missed your home. Your grandparents had moved to the south of France from Denmark when you were very young. You missed them dearly but they wanted a change and to have a much more relaxed and laid back life. Southern France did make for good vacations however.

“Oliver and Kaspar have been attending. They’ve been enjoying it, there’s lots of other young people there too. It’s be a good chance to make some friends for the summer.” Your grandfather had made an appearance at the table, your brothers following behind him. “I’ll think about it.” You said as you headed back inside to get the rest of the food. You could imagine your grandparents both shaking their heads. Religion had always been a touchy subject for you. You’d grown up being taught Catholicism and attended church every week with your parents back in Denmark. When you reached your teenage years, things began to change. You had many questions about religion and why things were so rigid. It made you uncomfortable. You stopped attending a short while after your thirteenth birthday.

There were some things that never changed however. You still wore your crucifix around your neck, it was a gift from your father at your first Holy communion. You found you could never take it off even if you wanted to. It felt as if it was welded into your skin and you felt bare without it. It was probably because it was from your father that you didn’t want to take it off. Your father had suffered with debilitating depression since you were ten after the loss of his brother. It had become hard for your mother to take care of you and your brothers. It was then that the yearly tradition of vacationing in France began. You and your brothers were shipped off to your grandparents every summer for 3 months so your mother could have a break from it all. You never really minded, you enjoyed being by the lakes.

Your grandparents house looked over the largest lake in the village. It was surrounded with beautiful native pine trees and small villas that blended in with the scenery seamlessly. After your meal you helped your siblings clear up and wash the dishes, still watching over the lake as you did so. You wanted to go back out there and continue your painting but the blazing sun said otherwise. You decided to take a nap instead and enjoy your break.

You found yourself attending church that Sunday. Your grandparents had finally worn you down, insisting that it would make you feel better and you’d make some friends. That it would even help you with your art work. You were exhausted of their constant nagging so in the end you just gave in. You were curious too, as to who this new priest was and why he was so special. Your grandmother had been talking about him non stop all week. How he’d come over from South Korea and he could apparently speak seven languages, including French of course.

When you arrived at the church that morning the sun had already began to beat down on you. You could feel the sweat dripping from your hair and down your neck. It didn’t help that you were already desperately uncomfortable walking into a place that made you feel like an outsider. Like you were a freak for thinking differently to everyone else inside, even though their rules were so rigid and based on a book written so long ago. However you were now sat on a pew, sandwiched between your older brother Kaspar and your grandmother. You couldn’t see much from where you were sitting, other than a large statue of the Virgin Mary that almost touched the ceiling at the front of the church. You couldn’t help think she looked sad. You wondered how long she’d stood there at the bow of the church. How many services she’d sat through and what she thought of them. Your attention was snatched from her when your grandmother touched your leg and indicated that the new priest had started his service.

The priest was tall, handsome and well spoken. He spoke mostly in French which you struggled to understand but sometimes switched to English. The service felt as if it went on forever. You were so hot and sweaty as the end neared, you couldn’t wait to get out and breath some fresh air. Many people got up to go and meet the new priest at the end of the service, your grandparents were included in that group. They waited in line for their turn to meet this, person. That’s all he was. You wondered why they were so excited. Your grandparents dragged you up too, along with your brothers and as you neared the front you noticed two equally as tall and handsome men stood next to him. They were younger, and you thought they may be his sons. You could feel yourself getting hotter and hotter as you moved closer. The one you deemed to be the youngest had the coldest and most attractive face you’d ever seen. Your face flushed red as you got closer.

“Thank you so much for coming.” The priest spoke as you got to the front. He shook your grandparents and brothers hands before getting to you. You were still so dazed by his son that you didn’t realise the priests hand stretched out to shake yours. Your grandmother nudged you and you quickly shook his hand. “These are my sons, Donghae,” he pointed to the oldest one, “and Jeno.” You could feel your throat close up as Jeno looked you up and down. A small smirk adorning his lips. Your grandfather finished the conversation and you were on your way again. Jeno’s face had become engrained in your mind. He was all you could think about on the drive back to the house and all you could think about when you went to bed that night.

When the following Sunday rolled around, you were the first one out of bed and ready to go. Your grandmother was surprised but extremely happy, thinking that you’d reconnected with your faith. But in reality you just wanted to see Jeno again. To look at his breathtaking face. You sat closer to the front on this day, making sure you could get a glimpse of the intimidating get enticing boy. You could feel yourself turning red when he turned around. You could feel his cold eyes burning deep into your soul. Maybe this was religion, you thought. Maybe he was God.

When the service ended, Jeno was the first one standing up, ready to leave. You quickly stood up too, racing out the pews to try and talk to him. Maybe to ask if he needs any help adjusting to the village. You did only live ten minutes from the church and you were always around if he needed anything. Your heart was crushed however when several other young girls surrounded him, trying to get his attention. Disheartened, you followed your family out of the church. Kaspar, your older brother had immediately realised what you wanted to do when you stood up. He knew last week from the way you looked at Jeno that you were interested in him. On your way out of the church he nudged you, “You like him, hey?” He teased, “What? No, he’s probably really conservative. He’s a priests son.” You nudged him back. You had experience with boys back home, you’d even briefly had a boyfriend. You never shied away from male attention, in fact, you welcomed it. You did well with the boys back in your home town and got bored here in France where there was barely any boys your age, and if there were, none of them interested you. This is probably why Jeno excited you so much. He was the first attractive boy you’d seen here in France.

“Really? Your face turned into a tomato as soon as he looked at you, tomat ansigt.” You shuddered at the nickname. Your mother had given it to you as a child when your face would turn as red as a tomato whenever you were embarrassed. “Don’t call me that mærkelig dreng.” You hit his shoulder earning a harsh glance from your grandmother as you got back into the car.

“I need some things from the market. Could you take Oliver down there and get everything on this list please?” Your grandmother asked you as she wondered into the living room where you sat on the old worn out leather couch, reading your book. She handed you the list as you reached your arm out. “Why do we need all this stuff?” You we’re inquisitive as to why there were so many items on the list, and good stuff too, like cake and ice cream. “Father Lee, the priest is coming tonight for dinner. Monsieur Clement and his wife and daughters and coming too. Make sure you get everything on the list please.” She widened her eyes as she emphasised. You called for Oliver and headed out to the market.

“I hate Monsieur Clement, he just talks about himself all the time.” Oliver whined as you headed into the grocery shop to finish your shopping. “I know Oli. Mormor said that his daughters are coming too. Maybe they’ll be your age.” He shrugged at your comment and picked up the next thing on your list. You doubted that though, Monsieur Clement was a retired business man in his early sixties. He had a substantial amount of money from what you could tell and he’d been living next to your grandparents for the past three years. You’d never met his daughters but part of you doubted that they’d be Oliver’s age. Probably more like yourself and Kaspar’s age, in their early twenties.

Your parents had had yourself and Kaspar when they were young and Oliver was a surprise slightly later in life. You and Kaspar had been so excited to have a little brother and you both absolutely adore him and constantly dote over him. Especially now with your dad practically out of the picture and your mother focused on caring for him and working too, you and Kaspar tried your hardest to make Oliver’s childhood a good one. Oliver was now eleven, you twenty and Kaspar twenty three but things hadn’t changed much from when you were young. You were a very close knit trio.

Your mind wondered back to the list and to the dinner, you were too focused on the fact that Monsieur Clement was attending to remember the fact that Father Lee, Jeno’s father may was attending too. You wondered if Jeno and his brother would be coming. You hoped they were. Maybe you’d finally get to talk to him. You and Oliver had finished up your shopping and began your walk home. It was sweltering outside. You’d gotten used to the cold air in the grocery shop and stepping outside felt like stepping into a furnace. Your eyes stopped on 2 figures outside the local Café. You recognised them to be Jeno and his brother. You watched them for a second. Jeno had a cigarette in one hand and his coffee in the other. Maybe he’s not so conservative if he smokes, you thought. Or maybe not, you don’t know him. You’re snapped out of your thoughts when Oliver shouts your name. He’s already half way down the street, waiting for you. Jeno and Donghae look up to see what the shouting is about and notice you. It’s quite obvious that you were looking at them from your position and stance. You flush red when you see that Jeno is staring at you, his face still cold and stern. You spin on your feet in embarrassment and quickly follow Oliver back home.

“Are Father Lee’s sons coming tonight?” Kaspar asks your grandmother whilst helping her with the cooking. You’re sitting on a chair in the kitchen, peeling some vegetables. You look up to see Kaspar smirking at you. “You hope so, don’t you.” He carries on, pointing at you. You roll your eyes when your grandmother looks at you and shakes her head. Your grandmother doesn’t answer but you realise they probably are when there are quite a few places set at the table.

When your guests finally arrive you notice the absence of the one person you really wanted to see. Kaspar notices your dissatisfaction and pats you on the back. “Don’t worry, Father Lee said he’d be here soon. He’s just finishing up something at home.” You breathed a sigh of relief but were annoyed at your brother for noticing and reading your facial expressions so easily. Monsieur Clement’s daughters were like goddesses. They were a similar age to Kaspar and yourself much to Oliver’s dismay. Kaspar wasn’t wasting time introducing himself however. You rolled your eyes at him and poked him in the side every time he faked a laugh at something one of the daughters said or when he over exaggerated something that happened to him as a child for effect.

You were still waiting for Jeno when you’d finished eating. Your grandmother was about to bring out dessert and you were helping her tidy the table. Whilst in the kitchen you heard a commotion outside and realised Jeno had turned up. His father seemed very pleased to see him, maybe thinking he wouldn’t turn up at all. You rushed into the bathroom and tidied up your appearance, brushing your hair off of your face and smoothing out your dress before stepping outside to greet Jeno. Monsieur Clement’s daughters had wasted no time in introducing themselves, clearly flirting with him. Jeno was very gracious in the way he spoke to them, soaking up their stupid comments. You took a seat next to Kaspar when your grandmother bought the dessert out. You stayed pretty quiet whilst the others chatted amongst themselves. “Jeno I realised I never introduced my grandchildren to you. This is Kaspar, my eldest grandson. My only and very beautiful granddaughter, and my youngest grandson.” Your grandmother pointed you all out as she spoke. Jeno looked at you up and down like he did in the church. It made your heart flutter. “What do you all do?” Father Lee asked. “I’ve just finished up university back in Denmark, I studied architecture.” Kaspar spoke, Father Lee nodded his head impressed. “What about you two?” You stayed silent for a second hoping Oliver would speak, Jeno didn’t take his eyes off you for a second making you feel desperately awkward. But Oliver didn’t speak, probably not knowing what to say in front of all these people. “I’m studying fine art at university. In my second year.” You managed to squeeze out. “Wow, are you enjoying it? I’d love to see some of your work.” Father Lee sounded surprised. “I’ve been painting lots over the summer, I have a few paintings inside.” You managed to string a proper sentence together as if you weren’t melting under the stare of the priests youngest son. “She’s really very good Father. I too have an interest in paintings,” Monsieur Clement started as if he has any idea about your painting ability but you realised it was just an opportunity for him to speak about himself. You were glad though.

The sun began to set and everyone was getting ready to leave. You watched as Jeno helped clear the table and your grandmother insisted he sit down and she was absolutely fine. You leaned over the railings of the balcony that looked over the lake. You didn’t realise Jeno approaching you. “It’s really very beautiful here. I didn’t realise it would be when my father told me about it.” You felt your soul leave your body. He was talking to you. You needed to say something. “It is. I love it here.” You just about managed to say. “I’d love to see some of your paintings if you’d let me. I’d assume this is a great place to get inspiration.” You tucked your hair behind your ear. He actually wanted to see your paintings. God, help. “There’s a couple upstairs, I’ll bring them down if you want. They’re not very good, they were only quick ones.” You nervously spoke. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

He followed you into the house, waiting in the living room, not wanting to follow you into your room. “They’re just of the lakes.” You bought down two. Those two were your grandmothers favourites. “These are really amazing. You’re so talented. I could only dream of being able to paint like this. Have you ever considered selling your work?” He sounded to passionate as he spoke, he was genuinely impressed with your skills. “My grandma keeps telling me too but I’m not sure.” You sit next to him as he holds one of the paintings, still looking at it in depth. “You should. You’re really good.” He places it down on the coffee table as his father peeks his head around the door. “Time to go Jen.” Jeno stands up and follows his father, not before stopping and turning around to look at you again. “It was really nice meeting you. I’ll see you around?” He asks, “Yeah of course. It’s a small village.” You giggle awkwardly. He gives you a small wave before disappearing with his dad.

It was a while before you saw Jeno again. He hadn’t attended his fathers services for the past couple of weeks and you couldn’t help but wonder where he’d gone. You’d even bumped into Donghae whilst at the Saturday market in the village. “Is Jeno okay? I haven’t seen him around much.” You couldn’t help but ask. His brother gave a small smile before replying, “He’s okay. Just doesn’t cope well in the heat. I’ll tell him you asked after him.” You felt like it wasn’t true but didn’t probe this man you didn’t really know for any more answers.

It was another scorching afternoon by the lake when you saw Jeno again. He was swimming in the lake with his brother, talking to your brothers as they swam too. When he noticed you he put up a hand and waved, you smiled back and waved too. After a while, Jeno came out of the lake and headed towards you, grabbing a towel from where he and his brother had left their belongings. “It’s beautiful.” He said when he reached you, gesturing to your painting. “Thanks, I’m nowhere near finished though.” You continued on and he took a seat on a rock next to you. You tried your best to concentrate on your work but the way the water droplets slid down his muscular shoulders had you extremely distracted. “What do you like about it here?” He suddenly asked, surprising you. “What isn’t there to like? It’s beautiful and quiet.” You found yourself looking directly at him now, watching the way his muscles flexed as he turned around to face you. “You don’t find it boring at all?” He squints his eyes in the sun. You shrug, “Not really. It’s quite different to home so it’s nice to escape.” You thought back to your home in Copenhagen. The busyness sort of made you cringe. You loved home but it was nice to get away from the bustling streets, especially in summer.

“What’s home like? I’ve never been to Denmark.” You wondered why he was talking to you, not that you weren’t grateful, this God like being was actually paying you attention so there wasn’t much to complain about. “I love Copenhagen. But it sometimes feels depressing,” You thought about your dad, “It’s really very beautiful though. You should visit sometime.” He nodded. “What about you? I’ve never been to South Korea either.” His eyes lit up when you mentioned his home country. “I desperately miss it. I like busy. I like loud and bright. For me, it feels like an escape. I can be myself there. Being stuck with my dad and brother and not knowing anyone, or the language. It’s hard.” He looked down, playing with a stone at his feet. “I get that. My french isn’t great.” He smiled up at you after you said that and then you both fell silent for a while. He watched as his brother and your brothers played in the water. Something about the water made everyone turn into a child again. That was one of the things you loved about it. You took this opportunity to get a better look at his body. He must work out, you thought. His body looked as if it was calved by angels. So sharp, yet soft. His beautiful tan skin still bestrewn with little water droplets glistening in the sun.

“Are you going in today?” He asked, gesturing to the lake. “I might do later. I want to get this painting finished soon.” You went back to your painting, pretending that that was what you were doing the whole time. “Come in now. It’ll be fun.” He stood up and began walking back into the lake, before turning round again. You assumed he was waiting for you. Not much could get you to stop getting in the lake on a normal day. Especially if there was a very beautiful man trying to get you to go in. When you got up you noticed the way Jeno checked you out. His eyes shuffling up and down your body, his tongue poking out the side of his lips. You followed him into the lake and you both swam towards your brothers.

“Hun er med!” Kaspar cheered. “Jeg er kold, jeg vil snart ud.” Oliver whined as he swam over to you, holding onto your shoulders. “Why are you speaking Danish?” It was unusual for your you and your siblings to speak in Danish when you where in France. You weren’t sure why, it had just always been that way. “Donghae wants to learn some Danish so we’re only speaking in Danish now.” Oliver swam past you, “og hvordan kan du være kold? Det er så varmt.” Oliver shrugged before splashing you with the water, you squealed, not ready for the water to touch your neck yet. Jeno hadn’t thought Danish could sound so beautiful until it came out of your mouth. He smiled at you as Oliver continued to splash the water at you, you splashed him back and before you knew it your grandmother was calling you from the house for dinner.

“Are you boys staying for dinner? We’d love to have you.” Your grandfather asked as you all walked onto the deck, soaking wet. “We wouldn’t want to impose.” Donghae spoke, he was very well spoken, like his father. “Nonsense! Stay!” Your grandmother said as she bought a serving dish of food out. “Thank you very much. This is too kind.” Jeno said as he took a seat, next to you. You smiled at him as you grabbed him a plate. “Don’t be silly. It’s nice to have you here for dinner again.” You said. He gave you a very warm smile back, before thanking you for the plate.

You enjoyed dinner. It was nice to get to talk to Jeno more. You learnt that Jeno was very popular at school, and he played soccer. You could guess that he was popular. He probably had girls dropping to their knees for him on a daily basis. Jeno now studied law at a prestigious university in Seoul and was very hard working, according to his brother. You could tell Donghae was extremely proud of Jeno. It was heartwarming. You also learnt that Jeno had three cats at home and that he missed them very much. You mention to him that there’s many strays here in France and that if he left food for them, they’d probably never leave him alone. He liked the idea of that. Despite being allergic to cats, which made everyone at the table laugh.

When dinner was done, both Jeno and Donghae stayed to help tidy up. Your grandmother was very impressed with their manners and said she would make sure to tell their father how respectful they were. You could see Jeno’s face scrunch up at the mention of his father. You wondered what it was about him that made Jeno do that. After cleaning up, Jeno and Donghae left and walked home to the cottage attached to the church. Not before thanking your grandparents profusely for the meal and for welcoming them into their home again. You really liked how polite they were to your grandparents. It made you a hundred times more attracted to Jeno.

Jeno had invited you to the lake this time. You couldn’t help but feel sick with excitement that he wanted to go swimming with you. He’d knocked on the door that evening desperate to see you. For some reason he couldn’t get you out of his head and he just wanted to be near you. You made him feel something he hadn’t felt before. Especially since arriving in France. “Nice bikini.” He said as you walked down to the lake together, your hands brushing past his every so often, making electricity spark through your nervous system. “Thanks.” You smiled up at him. He was referring to your old mismatched bikini you had pulled out of your bottom draw as quickly as you could when he came round. Your other much nicer ones were in the wash. You piled your towels on the shore and both walked in to the lake together. “This is nice.” You mumbled as you got deep enough to swim. The sun was setting over the two of you, making him look even more ethereal. He thought the same about you too. Your pretty little face lit up when he mentioned the cats again. He’d tried to feed them but none of them let him stroke them. “It’s okay there’s loads of friendly ones that come to my house in the evening. We’ll probably see them when we go back. Mormor likes to make sure they’ve had a good dinner.”

After he asked what a Mormor was you explained some more Danish words to him. He just liked to hear you talk, especially in your mother tongue. You asked him to teach you some Korean. He immediately taught you the swear words of course, making you gently slap his shoulder after he got you to say them without knowing what they meant. He liked the way your hands felt on his skin. They were so soft and kind. The sun had finally set over the two of you, bringing darkness. The lake at night was probably your favourite. You didn’t ever really get the opportunity to go in it at night as your brothers were usually too tired or playing games. Jeno loved the way your face caught the light from the moon. He thought you were more beautiful than ever. He really wanted to kiss you right now.

“Do you like going to church?” You suddenly ask him, making him snap out of his daze. “No, not really. I feel I’m obliged to because of my dad though.” You nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Me neither. My family are pretty religious. I never used to go but I was forced to when there was a new priest,” you referenced his dad, making his face scrunch up again, “But I wanted to go after I saw you there. Your face made it more bearable.” You giggled, his face lit up. “Really?” He moved closer towards you and you placed a hand at the back of his neck. “Yeah, you’re not bad looking you know.” You said softly, placing your other arm behind his neck and finally securing both your arms around him. He felt like he was in heaven. As did you.

“I’m surprised to see you wear a cross then.” He looked down at your necklace. “My dad gave it to me. It feels weird to take it off.” You said, sadness laced through your voice. He didn’t ask about your dad, it was probably a sore subject, he decided. “I wouldn’t even call myself religious at all. I never understood it, never liked it.” Jeno suddenly said, boldly. “Me too! It feels wrong to me.” Jeno nodded at your comment. He felt close to you at that moment. He’d never been able to share his thoughts on his so called religion with anyone else. He was scared they would judge him. He was glad he could confide in you. After all, you were pretty much his only friend in this quiet little village. “What do you think made you feel like that? For me, it was when my church back home in Denmark was preaching about how being gay was wrong, and how you shouldn’t have sex before marriage. It doesn’t make sense. It’s so wrong.” Your arms were still wrapped around Jeno’s neck securely. He’d never felt so safe with anyone else to talk about this sort of thing before so he used it as an opportunity to get some things off his chest.

“The church my dad used to run, back in Korea. It was filled with people who believe those things. And to hear my dad talk about them too. It made me feel ill. I have friends back home that were, in my dads words, sinners. He didn’t like me hanging out with them because they believed differently to him. I’m an adult I should be able to do what I want, see whoever I want. But he didn’t see it like that. That’s why we’re here. He wanted my brother an I to get away from the sins in our home town and start fresh. He was hoping we’d suddenly turn to Christ and be born again.” Jeno looked down at the thin strip of water between the two of you. “I’ll never forgive him for taking me away from everything I know. This place, it’s beautiful don’t get me wrong. But it’s not for me. It’s too slow.” You pulled yourself closer to him, your lips close, to look into his eyes. “I’m sorry. That sounds really shitty. I promise it’s not that bad here. We’ll go into the market if you want. Try and do some less boring things.” You proposed, “It’s not boring here with you.” He said, looking back into your eyes. The distance between your lips was minute. He wanted to badly to kiss you then and there as did you. “We could do this everyday if you wanted.” You whispered, “I’d like that.” And with that he pressed his lips to yours.

“What’s going on with you and Jeno? You were awfully pleased with yourself last night.” Kaspar asks as he walks into your room, disturbing your peace. “We’re just friends. It’s nice to hang out with someone other than your brothers you know.” You throw your book at him and stand up. You wondered what Jeno was doing right now. “Touché.” Kaspar said as he walked out. “Oh and Jeno is here by the way, thought I should let you know.” He poked his head round the door and grinned. You quickly ran downstairs behind him. “Hey! What are you doing here?” You asked intuitively. “Just thought I’d take you up on that offer of going to the market.” He shrugged. “Of course! Let me grab my bag.” You rushed back upstairs to grab your bag, fixing your hair in the bathroom mirror and headed back down.

“So how have you been?” He asks shyly. “You don’t have to be awkward with me just because we kissed.” You roll your eyes playfully at him before pushing him out the door. “Noted.” He grabbed your hand as you walked into the village. You looked down at your hands every so often as you passed different cottages and villas, fields full of lavender and smiled as Jeno squeezed your hands tighter. Even though you’d only known each other a few weeks, only spoken to each other a handful of times, it all felt right. “Hey can we go in here?” Jeno snapped you out of your thoughts and pointed towards a vintage store that seemed in the middle of nowhere, only surrounded by a few houses. “Sure, why not?”

The store was vintage alright. It definitely hadn’t been updated since the fifties. Everything was coated in a thick layer of dust. Your eyes were drawn to the back section of the store, it had various different sunglasses and hats. You tried on a pair of sunglasses and turned to Jeno, “What do you think? Sexy?” They were large, pink heart shaped glasses that made you look ridiculous. “Oh definitely.” Jeno smirked, “you want them?” He asked, stepping towards you and pushing them down your nose slightly. You slowly leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips, “Of course, they make me look super sexy!” Jeno smiled and placed another kiss on your cheek, making you blush a deep shade of red of course.

You and Jeno tried on more wacky sunglasses before you noticed the shop keeper beginning to become annoyed with you both. “I think we should probably go.” Jeno gritted his teeth awkwardly as you headed towards the front of the shop. You placed the heart shaped sunglasses on the front desk and began to look through your back for your purse, but before you could, Jeno whipped out his wallet and placed a bill on the counter. “Don’t be silly, let me pay.” You tried to give the bill back to him as the shop owner rolled her eyes. “No. Let me get them.” The lady took the bill and you two headed out the store, with your sunglasses on.

You walked past the church on your way to the market. You could feel Jeno stiffen up at the sight of it. You gave his hand a squeeze and smiled up at him. “There’s another vintage store in town. Actually there’s only 3 stores, ones a vintage store and the other two are grocery stores.” You grinned up at him, knowing he probably would find it boring. He didn’t though, he just loved being with you.

After your wild shopping experience, you and Jeno found yourself sitting outside the village café, the one you had seen Jeno and his brother sitting at a few weeks prior. “I’ve had a really great time with you. Thanks for showing me the village.” Jeno reached over the table to grab your hands. “I know it’s probably been boring for you but I did try.” He held your hands slightly tighter, “I had a lovely time. I like spending time with you. And I like kissing you.” Your face broke out into a grin at the last sentence. “I like kissing you too.” You leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his lips. You did really like kissing him.

That evening Jeno had stayed for dinner again. You got the sense that he didn’t really have family dinners so it probably felt comforting to have them. You could relate to that. Your ‘family dinners’ at home were usually you sitting in your room working on a painting whilst picking at some cheese and crackers. They weren’t exactly dinners at all. Your mother didn’t really cook, she was always quite busy with work. And your dad, well, he had barely left the house in ten years and couldn’t really move from his bed or the couch so dinner wasn’t really a thing. Let alone a family dinner. That was probably part of the reason you loved being with your grandparents so much. They loved taking care of you all and making extravagant meals, making sure you had everything you needed. Your grandfather would always drive into the nearest town with you to get more painting supplies if you needed them and your grandmother would sew up a hole on your clothes if you needed. It felt very homely and comfortable.

“What were you two up to today then?” Your grandfather asked you and Jeno. “We walked into the village and went into some vintage shop. I got these sunglasses.” You flicked the sunglasses from your head to your nose. “I was wondering about those.” He chuckled and went back to his meal. “Kaspar took me to the lake on the other side of the village today and there was some other boys there and we jumped off the jetty into the lake a thousand times. It was really fun.” Oliver smiled as you leaned over to pinch his cheek. “I’m glad you had fun Oli.” He hummed a yes and put another mouthful of salad into his mouth.

“Jeno I’ve been meaning to ask, I’ve been wanting to set up a baking group for the other elderly people in the village and was wondering if we could use the church hall to host it.” Your grandmother asked as she placed her final dish on the table and sat down. Jeno shifted in his seat, “Uh yeah, you’d have to ask him but I’m sure it would be okay.” You placed a hand over his under the table and gave it a squeeze before you changed the subject. “Mormor this salad is amazing. Did you grow these tomatoes?”

Your room was quite simple but your grandparents had allowed you to decorate it however you wanted. You had some fairy lights wrapped around the bedroom and your grandfather had helped you put up some of your favourite art work on your walls. Jeno liked your room, it felt very much like you. It was the first time he’d been in it. He noticed a shelf full of books and a floral piggy bank with a note on top, ‘For London’ it said. He smiled and sat down on your bed next to you. “So what did you want to do?” Jeno could barely finish his sentence before you grabbed his face and kissed him. He leaned into the kiss and bought his hands to your waist. You pulled away for a second before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down on the bed to lay beside you. He nuzzled his head into your neck and placed a few soft kisses on it. “You’re pretty.” He finally broke the silence after you’d both laid there for a while. It was dark outside and you’d spent the whole day in the lake again. Jeno was starting to see why you loved the lake so much. “You’re pretty too.” You smiled down at him and placed a kiss on his head.

“If you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?” You randomly asked, “Where did that come from?” He asked, stroking your leg. “But since you asked, I’d go to this small little village in the south of France, and I’d be laying in bed with a very pretty girl whilst she asks me random questions.” You grinned at his answer, “You wouldn’t go home?” You asked, unsure of what his answer would be. He knew you were referencing his home in Seoul when you asked this. “Hm, I do miss my home but right now I’m enjoying laying with you.” You ran your fingers down his back sending shivers down his spine. He loved the feeling he got when you touched him.

“Do you believe in God?” You shot another random question at him. He didn’t know how to answer this one because he genuinely didn’t know the answer. “I don’t know, do you?” He asked. You pondered for a while before saying, “I think so. It’s probably because I’m scared to believe otherwise. I would like to believe that there’s a heaven and that there’s someone there looking out for you. Even if His previous decisions were questionable.” He hummed in agreement. “When did your dad become a priest?” He shuffled to get more comfortable, “Not very long ago, maybe ten years? He divorced my mother to become one. It was a strange time. It’s not usual to hear of priests with children. I was worried what would happen when we came here because our old church had gotten used to it.” You had wondered why your village’s new Catholic priest had two sons at the time but never really questioned it. You wondered if anyone else had too, they probably had knowing the people in this village.

“I’m sorry that happened.” You whispered whilst placing another kiss on his head. “I think that’s why I’m so adverse to religion. My father denounced everything, his wife and almost his two children for a job. He’s moved us over to a country we no barely anything about for a job. You don’t even have to divorce if you’re already married to become a priest. I think he just went crazy.” Jeno shrugged whilst you stroked his hair to comfort him. “I know it seems strange that Donghae and I are both adults but we can’t make our own decision about where we live. But he’s controlling, it didn’t feel like we had a choice.” Jeno huffed and nuzzled deeper into your neck. “I understand. Thank you for sharing that with me. I know stuff like that is hard to talk about.” Jeno placed another kiss on your neck before you started speaking again. “I think I’m the opposite. I have so much freedom that it’s scary. My mother is a workaholic. Well I guess she has to be to keep a roof over our heads. It seems mean to say this but I don’t think she really cares where we are or what we’re doing as long as we’re not causing problems for her. My dad barely leaves the house. He fell into a deep depression after his brother passed away when I was eight or nine. It’s like he’s dead too. He’s alive but he’s dead.” You felt a pang of sadness hit your chest. You didn’t talk about your dad much because it hurt too much. You had a great relationship with him until your uncle had died and after that you completely lost him. You suddenly felt guilty that you’d offloaded your problems onto Jeno after he’d just poured his heart out to you. “Is that why you like it here so much? It feels more like home?” He sits up and asks you. “Yeah, I think so.” You whisper. Jeno presses a kiss to your forehead, then one on your nose and then finally one on your lips. “We’ll go to the lake tomorrow to swim after church, hey?” He placed a hand on your cheek, “Yeah I’d like that.”

You awoke in the morning with Jeno softly snoring with his head on your chest. Oh Lord. You must have both fallen asleep after talking. “Jeno, wake up.” You ran your fingers through his hair, not wanting to wake him up abruptly but also enough to actually wake him up because you were sure your grandparents wouldn’t be happy about a boy sleeping in your room. Not that you’d meant it. But even so, they wouldn’t be happy. He mumbled something incoherent as he shuffled on top of you. “Jen, we need to get up.” He sleepily lifted his head and when he noticed where he was his eyes opened wide. “Oh shit, sorry. We must have been tired last night.” He lifted himself off of you and sat on the edge of the bed whilst you started to get up and move around. He watched as you picked up some clothes off the floor and placed them in your washing basket. It was daytime now so things were much more visible. Your room was messy, skincare stuff and makeup was scattered all over your desk, clothes on the floor and your painting stuff just chucked in the corner. “Don’t worry my room is horrific. This is clean.” You rolled your eyes at him and threw one of your t-shirts at him. “I’d this for me? It looks a bit small?” He smiled and you rolled your eyes again throwing another item of clothing at him.

It wasn’t long before you arrived at the church with your family and Jeno. Jeno’s father immediately pulled him aside, he didn’t look happy. You wondered what they were talking about. You could see Father Lee gesturing for Jeno to sit next to his brother. Jeno gave you a smile of sympathy before sitting next to his brother. You sat in the middle with your grandparents and brother. You looked up at Mary whilst Father Lee started his service. You wondered if she cared about what was going on below her. She’d probably heard it all a million times. You sort of admired her despite your aversion to church and to religion. She had stood at the top of the church all this time, silently watching for all these years. Your eyes wondered around to the various paintings on the ceiling. How long did it take to paint those? And how high did the ladder have to be to reach the top? And how did the people painting them know what Jesus looked like? They had no reference. You couldn’t deny the churches beauty. Lots of people had obviously worked very hard to create this place hundreds of years ago. You decided to watch the back of Jeno’s head for a while. It was lowered for most of the time. He only looked up when his father spoke a word he understood, or when his brother spoke to him. It made you feel sad.

Jeno had been invited around for dinner for the umpteenth time that week by your grandparents. They could see how happy he was making you and could probably see that Jeno needed some company too. It was late when Jeno suggested you both walk into the village. Your grandparents made sure to tell him to take good care of you as it was dark and he assured them he would never let anything bad happen to you. That made you smile. You loosely held hands as you walked. You could see some horses had been put into a pasture along the road and you headed towards them, stroking their noble heads and giggling when they tried to nibble at your jumper. You passed the church a few minutes later and you were surprised when Jeno crossed the road to head towards it. You were even more surprised that the church was unlocked when Jeno pushed one of the large wooden doors open. “I want to show you something.” He said as you followed behind him. He headed towards the front and looked up, “Despite everything I feel about church and religion and my dad, I’ve always quite liked Mary.” He spoke softly, you held his hand close to you and leaned your head on his shoulder whilst you both looked up at the statue. “She’s managed to fool all of these people into believing she was a virgin despite getting pregnant. It’s amazing really.” He almost laughed at his own statement. You moved your attention to Jeno’s face as he looked up at the statue. His face must have been calved by angels, if they existed. It was perfect. He was perfect. You moved in front of him so you were facing him and wrapped your arms around him. He returned the gesture and wrapped his arms around you too. “Are you a virgin?” You suddenly ask out of the blue. Jeno is shocked by your question and almost chokes whilst trying to answer it. “What?” He says, “Are you a virgin?” You repeat, this time looking up at him. “I have a controlling overly religious father, what do you think? He raises an eyebrow. “Wait, you actually are? But you’re so hot!” You place and hand on his chest, your mouth wide open. “Thank you, I guess.” You wrap your arms around his neck and place a kiss on his lips. His hands find your waist and you slip your tongue into his mouth. “You kiss well for a virgin.” You couldn’t but say it. “I’ve have kissed girls before!” He sounds offended but doesn’t say anymore as you press your lips to his again.

Your arms unwrap themselves from Jeno’s neck and your hands find your way to his chest and then lower, and then slightly lower. “Is this okay?” You ask when you pull away from his lips. He looked to pretty right now, his lips red and slightly swollen. He mumbles out a “yes,” and you drop to your knees. In a church. God if you are real and you’re watching us right now, please forgive me, you thought as you began to unbutton Jeno’s pants. He watches you as you pull his underwear down, and take his cock into your hand. You look up at him again and he swears this is the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life. You pump his cock a few times before taking it into your mouth. You make sure to retain eye contact as you suck, wanting to see Jeno’s reaction as you gave him head in the middle of his fathers church. It felt so unbelievably good, he thought, the fact that it was so wrong excited him. You kept looking up at him through your eyelashes as you went, making sure to take him right to the back of your throat. He threw his head back and groaned as you did this so you knew you were doing a good job. “Fuck, this is amazing.” He moaned and placed his hands on the back of your head. You could sense he was getting close as he pushed slightly on your head and let out a loud groan. “Come in my mouth.” You said as you took your mouth of his cock for a second. He quickly pushed your head back down and you giggled before taking it back into your mouth. And then he came. Right into your mouth, some spilling out past your lips and onto your chin. You swallowed before coming back up to face him. “Holy shit. I have faith. How could God not be real if having your dick sucked in a church felt that good?” You joked and you giggled at his comment as he took your face into his hand and wiped his cum off of your lips and chin. “Thank you baby.” He placed a kiss to your forehead before bringing you into his chest for a hug. “No problem.” You grinned cheekily at him and wrapped your arms around his waist. “You should probably pull your pants up and get me out of here though. It’s late.” He smiled and placed another kiss on your forehead before you both headed back to your house.

“Really, thank you though.” Jeno said as he pulled the covers over you both. “Stop thanking me! It’s the least I could do!” You giggle and throw your arm over his stomach. “What random question are you gonna ask me tonight?” He asked as he placed a hand on your head, reminiscent of the nights earlier events, but this time to stroke your hair. “Hm, who is your favourite artist?” You run your hands down his chest and abs, feeling over the beautifully crafted muscles. “You.” He says immediately. “No like a real artist.” You look up at him and he swears it almost makes him hard again. “You are a real artist. You make art, beautiful art, and, you’re real.” He says very surely. “Thank you.” You lean your head into his chest. “Are we gonna risk you sleeping over again? Yeah I think we are, you’re very comfortable.” You say as your eyes flutter shut.

“Stop!” You squeal as Jeno lifts you over his shoulder and quickly walks into the lake, following your brothers. “No! Come and have some fun!” Your brothers laugh, enjoying their sisters misfortune but also enjoying seeing you so happy. “I was having fun!” You try to argue but it doesn’t seem to make any difference as Jeno dunks you into the lake. When you come up from the water you push Jeno back to try and get him to fall back into the water but you fail miserably and fall yourself, right into his chest. “Aw what a lovely thank you hug for making enjoy your day instead of sitting on the side just watching us.” You give in and wrap your hands around his neck placing a kiss on his cheek. Oliver makes a gagging sound and splashed you both, Jeno immediately unwraps himself from you and chases your brother round as fast as he can despite the water trying to stop him. Kaspar makes his way towards you, “I like this version of you. All happy and loved up. It’s nice.” You lay back in the water and watch the clouds above you. “But what’s gonna happen when we have to leave for Denmark again?” You hadn’t even thought about the fact you’d have to go back at the end of the summer and it made you feel sick. “I don’t know. But I don’t really care right now.” You stand upright again and look at your brother, a pout on your lips. “Sorry for bringing it up. Just want to prepare you.” You knew your brother only ever had good intentions. He’d never want to hurt you, he loved you far too much. You enjoyed watching Jeno chase Oliver for a while longer before you decided you were too cold and needed to get out of the water.

Jeno joined you by the lakeside a few minutes later as you lay out on your towel, enjoying the sunshine with your new sunglasses. The lake had a mix of stones and sand surrounding it and you’d found a good spot with no stones. He laid next to you on his side on the towel you’d brought him. He reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze when he retrieved it. “You’re so pretty.” He said, which made you break out into a smile. You felt all your worries leave your body whenever he spoke. “Even in my sunglasses?” You teased, “Even in your sunglasses.” He winked at you before he headed back into the lake with your brothers. You sat up and watched them for a while, playing and thrashing about in the water. Oliver had brought a ball with him and they were throwing it about playing some sort of game they’d made up. You couldn’t help but smile watching Jeno get on so well with your brothers.

Your brothers had never liked your previous boyfriend, if that was what you could even call Jeno, you weren’t sure, you hadn’t spoken about it. Your ex wasn’t exactly interested in having any sort of relationship with your family and it made you sad. When you thought back to it, all he wanted was to have sex with you, and when you weren’t having sex he was distant and cold. You broke up with him after five months, five months too long, you thought, and he was surprised that you’d done it. You couldn’t believe the audacity he had. He was honestly shocked that you wanted to end things with him after he treated you like you like you were just a hook up. You could remember Oliver being so relieved when you told him your boyfriend wouldn’t be coming over anymore. “Thank the Lord.” He said. He was only nine.

The boys finally made their way out the lake, complaining of hunger. You suggested that instead of bothering your grandmother for food, you’d head out into the village for lunch. Your grandmother never minded cooking for you but you thought she deserved a break, having cooked three meals a day for you for the past two months. You walked back up into the house to get changed, Jeno following behind you. Your grandparents weren’t in anyway, you remembered they’d told you they were driving into the closest town to pick up something your grandfather needed. As you and Jeno walked into your bedroom you caught a whiff of your hair, it smelt of lake. “I’m just gonna shower quickly. I smell of lake.” You told Jeno. Your mind, being in the gutter as always, asked you to invite him in. So you did. “Wanna come shower with me? I don’t share a bathroom with anyone so we’re safe.” You gave him a sultry look. He didn’t have to say anything as he followed you into the bathroom, taking his shirt off as he did so.

You turned on the shower and began undressing. You realised Jeno had never seen you naked before. You suddenly felt insecure, but there wasn’t any going back now. Jeno watched as you took off your bikini top, mesmerised by how beautiful you were. Once you were fully naked you stepped into the shower, “Coming in?” You snapped Jeno out of his daze and he pulled off his shorts and got in with you. “You’re so beautiful.” He ran his hands down your sides. You smile at him and place a kiss on his cheek. Jeno helps you wash your hair and makes sure your conditioner is coating every strand of your hair. Once you’re done you step out, pulling a towel around yourself and pass one to Jeno. He wraps it around his waist and follows you back through the hallway and into your bedroom, thankful you hadn’t been caught by your brothers.

When you arrive at the village café you sit down on one of the tables outside. Having already decided on your orders on the walk there, Jeno and Kaspar go inside to order your meals. “You like Jeno a lot don’t you?” Oliver asks you. “I do Oli.” You smile at him, “I like Jeno too. He’s very nice. He’s nice to you too.” You feel bad that Oliver had probably picked up on the way your ex had treated you. It probably worried him. But you’re grateful that he likes Jeno. When Kaspar and Jeno come out they have your drinks. Jeno places your coffee in front of you and sits down next to you. He immediately grabs your hand from under the table and rests it on his thigh. You give his hand a squeeze and try your coffee, humming in pleasure at its taste.

It’s three in the morning and you can’t sleep. Jeno had decided that after your walk to see the horses in the pasture that he should probably go home and sleep in his own bed that night. He had mentioned that his father wasn’t happy that he was out almost every night and questioned his whereabouts whenever he would see him. Which wasn’t very often these days. You couldn’t sleep without Jeno now though. He’d spoiled you with his fantastically comfortable chest which you used as a pillow. You decided that you weren’t going to sleep any time soon so you got up and out of bed. You sneaked out to the kitchen and out the back door successfully without waking anyone and made your way down to the lake. This was something you did often before Jeno had arrived in the village. Your grandfather had told you off about it, saying it wasn’t safe to go down to the lake on your own at night but you needed to see the water sometimes. Even if you’d been in the lake all day, sometimes you just needed to watch the water.

The moon reflected off the middle of the lake and reflected in your eyes. It looked beautiful, you thought. You sat down on a rock and looked out into the water. It was so calm and peaceful. You thought back to your previous summers spent overlooking the lake. None of them were as happy as this summer. You felt ill at the fact that in three weeks time, you would be on a plane on your way back to Copenhagen. You hadn’t spoken to Jeno about it but both of you knew it was coming. You could feel your heart ripping apart at the thought of the conversation. You couldn’t leave him here, even if you would be back the following summer, you didn’t think you could last nine months without him, you couldn’t even last a night without him. You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard footsteps on the rocks behind you. You spun your head in fear but your heart rate returned to a slightly lower rate when you realised it was Kaspar. “Jesus Kristus, du skræmte mig.” You threw a tiny pebble at his legs. “Sorry.” He chuckled before taking a seat next to you.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked, his legs spreading out in front of him. “No, I can’t sleep without Jeno.” You shamefully admitted to him. “What are you gonna do when we get home?” He asked. He knew that you were in love with Jeno. His question wasn’t necessarily about your sleeping habits but just in general. What were you going to do? He wrapped an arm around you and you rested your head on his shoulder. You both stayed in silence as you watched the little ripples form in the water as the breeze skimmed across it. “We should go in. You need to sleep.” He stood up and offered you a hand. You both headed back into the house and Kaspar dropped you back off at your bedroom. You couldn’t sleep at all that night.

You must have fallen asleep eventually because when you awoke, it was already midday. You wondered into the kitchen to see if anyone was in. You could see your grandparents through the kitchen window tending to their garden and you assumed your brothers were down at the lake. There was only one thing you wanted to do today and that was to see Jeno. You quickly got ready and headed out up the road and into the village. When you got to the church you knocked on the cottage door. Donghae opened it and seemed happy to see you. He let you in and told you Jeno was in his room and he would go and get him. You waited for them and decided to glance around the kitchen. There were portraits of Jesus and Mary, several crucifixes and what you assumed was a Bible quote on the wall, but it was in Korean. When Jeno appeared he seemed surprised to see that you’d come to his home. He immediately took your hand and ushered you to his room without saying anything. “Is your dad in?” You asked when Jeno shut the door. “No thank God, but you can’t just appear here. You’re not my fathers favourite church goer believe it or not.” You smiled knowingly. Jeno’s father would often give you stern looks in church. Jeno had told you that his father believed you were corrupting him. That was true, you thought, thinking back to the ‘incident’ in the church. You didn’t care what Jeno’s father thought of you, you only really cared about Jeno. It was probably pretty selfish to think that but Jeno would probably agree with you.

Jeno guided you to his room and shut the door behind him. He had nothing on his walls other than a crucifix above his bed, which was messy and unmade. There were a few items of clothing strewn around the floor and books piled up on the desk. He noticed you looking around, “I was going to ask you if you’d paint me something I could hang on the wall. Just to make it feel more homely I guess.” You nodded and joined him on the bed. “I would be more than happy to.” You placed a kiss on his cheek. A knock on the door snapped you both out of your daze and Jeno instantly got up, scared it was his father knocking. Donghae opened the door and told Jeno something in Korean. When he shut the door behind him Jeno said, “He’s going out. We probably have a while before anyone gets back.” You then immediately pressed your lips to his and pushed him back on the bed.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and deepened the kiss. His hands slipped under the t-shirt you were wearing, which just so happened to be his. He must have left it at your place after a swim in the lake. You pulled away from him and hooked your fingers under his shirt, beginning to pull it up over his head. He leaned forward to help you and threw the shirt in the pile of clothes on the floor. You immediately ran your hands over his chest, admiring how beautiful he was and went back in for another kiss. Jeno straight away slipped his hands under your shirt and you helped him get better access by taking it off. You also took the opportunity to remove your bra. Jeno had seen your naked body before but this time he felt different, and he swore he’d never seen something so beautiful in his life. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your breast before placing your lips back on his. You ground down on his crotch and could feel him hardening up at the friction. He moaned and ground his hips back up into yours. You continued like this for a while before you decided enough was enough and you needed him. You swung your leg over him and pulled him up by the hands so he was sitting in front of you. You unbuttoned his pants, just like you’d done in the church that day and he stood up to remove them along with his boxers. You took off your shorts and underwear and then got back into the bed. Jeno took a moment to appreciate how perfect everyone was at that moment and how beautiful you looked, waiting for him. He got on top of you, bringing you in for a kiss. “Are you sure you’re ready?” You asked him, placing a hand on his cheek, making sure he wanted to go through with it. He leaned over to his nightstand and rummaged through it, pulling out a condom.

“You were prepared for this, huh?” You smiled at him, kissing him again. He ripped open the condom and rolled it over his cock and lined himself up. “Go ahead.” You eyes rolled back into your head as he pushed into you and you grabbed his shoulders to ground you. “Holy fuck.” He groaned as he began to fuck in and out of you, “You feel so good baby.” He panted as he placed small kisses on your breasts and neck. “Jen, I love you.” It just came out of your mouth. You didn’t mean it to but God you meant it. “I love you too beautiful, I have since the moment I saw you.” You pulled him closer to you and be buried his face in your neck. He fucked in and out of you slowly and carefully. You could feel yourself getting close as could he. “Go faster.” You breathed out. He propped himself up and began to fuck you faster and harder and the feeling in the pit of your stomach grew. You whined out and grabbed on to Jeno’s back, probably leaving marks but you didn’t care at that moment, you felt so good. “I’m gonna cum.” He choked out before he released, shaking and moaning. He pulled out of you and snaked down your body, his head ending up at your pussy. He licked a stripe up you and focused on your clit, sucking on it. It wasn’t long before you came too, grabbing on to his hair as he ate you out. “Thank you baby. I love you.” You pulled him up towards you and placed a kiss on his mouth and pulling him closer to you by wrapping your arms around his neck. He collapsed on top of you, mumbling an “I love you too,” before wrapping his arms around your waist and snuggling into your neck.

It was a beautiful evening as the sun set over the lake and you and Jeno were in the water, your arms around his neck and his around your waist. You’d been meaning to talk to him about your return to Denmark but the right time never came. You weren’t sure that the right time would ever come. But it had to at some point. You pressed a kiss to Jeno’s lips before starting what would probably be one of the hardest conversations of your life. You weren’t sure where to even start. Leaning your head on his shoulder, you spoke, “I leave for Denmark again in 10 days.” You felt Jeno’s body tense up under your touch. He didn’t respond he just leaned his head into your shoulder and placed a gently kiss on it. You could feel your eyes beginning to fill with tears as you moved your arms up to cradle his head, stroking his hair. “I don’t want to go.” You cried, tears cascading down your cheeks. “I don’t want this to end.” Jeno held you tightly. He didn’t know what to say. His heart felt like it had been ripped out of his chest and stamped on repeatedly. “Don’t go, please.” He managed to squeeze out, trying not to cry too. “I have to Jen. I have school and my parents.” Jeno couldn’t stop the tears from falling as he gripped into you harder, as if holding you tighter might prevent you from leaving. “You can’t leave me here.” He choked out, sobbing now. “I’m sorry Jen. I love you so much.” You pulled away from him and looked into his eyes, wiping away the tears with your thumb.

Jeno slept round again that night, holding you tighter and closer than he ever had. Making sure to take in everything about you. The way your skin felt on his fingers, the way you smelt and the way every time you touched him it felt like an electric pulse shot through his body. “I can’t be alone here.” He let out randomly in the middle of the night. “I don’t know what I’ll do.” It was the early hours of the morning at this point and neither of you had slept. Jeno shot up from the bed, his hands covering his face as he sat on the side. You sat up too and placed your head his back. The panic of not having you here was starting to set in with him and he wasn’t coping very well. “I can’t.” He choked before letting out a sob. You weren’t sure if anything you were going to say would help him. You’d racked your brains for ways your mother might let you stay in France but you kept coming up empty. She was be furious with you if you were just going to throw away your education and future for a boy you’d met on vacation. It didn’t feel like that to you though. Your relationship with Jeno was different, you felt so connected to him in a way that was so hard to explain. “I know,” was all you could say as you rubbed his back, trying to comfort him.

Over the following days you and Jeno had been stuck together like glue. He hadn’t left your side and you hadn’t left his. Your grandparents had noticed that you were so desperately trying to hang on to each other, with it coming to the end of your stay. Jeno was in the lake with your brothers one afternoon, it was probably the first time he hadn’t been right next to you since your conversation. You’d decided to stay on the lakeside and paint. Your grandfather had joined you after a while. “How are you coping?” He said as he stood next to you awkwardly, probably not knowing what to say to you. His granddaughters love life wasn’t exactly his area of expertise. “I think we’re just pretending it’s not happening.” You sighed and continued to add paint to your canvas. “You know, you can always come here whenever you’d like. It doesn’t just have to be for the summer.” He said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I know Farfar, but you know my mother. We have to help at home.” You looked up and him and he pulled you in for a side hug.

On the evening before you left, it was tradition for you to play board games with your grandparents. Jeno had stayed for this occasion of course and you’d both played happily alongside your family. Jeno had helped you pack your bags and had sneakily placed a few of his t-shirts in your bag, knowing how much you liked to wear them. He seemed okay, you thought, but it didn’t stop you from worrying about him. You didn’t feel okay at all. You wanted to cry when you noticed that he’d put some of his shirts in your bag but you didn’t say anything, worried that it would set him off again. Jeno held your hand throughout the whole of your games night, bringing it up to his mouth every so often to place a soft kiss on it. Your grandparents and brothers felt sad for you both and looked at you with sorry eyes every time Jeno did it. They could see how much love you had for each other and it broke their hearts that you’d be split apart in the morning.

There wasn’t enough room in your grandfathers car for Jeno to come on the ride to the airport. You realised as you piled your bags into the car that the time had finally come and you’d have to say goodbye to Jeno. You grasped his hands so tightly after you’d packed your last items in your room. Tears flowed immediately as he pulled you in for a hug. You sobbed into his chest and he placed small kisses on your neck. You could feel his tears hitting your skin as you held each other tightly. “I love you so much. So fucking much, it’s killing me.” He kissed up your neck, moving his hands to cradle your head as you stroked his back. “I love you.” He said again. “I love you.” You said back, softly, and he sank into you even further, letting out a sob.

You watched Jeno’s sad eyes as your grandfather pulled away from the house. Kaspar wrapped an arm around your shoulder and placed a kiss on your temple as you cried. You felt as if you couldn’t breathe. You felt as if your heart had been ripped out and stamped on, placed through a shredder and thrown in the trash. On the way through the village you asked your grandparents to stop off at Jeno’s house. You wanted to give him his gift when he wasn’t there. You didn’t think either of your hearts could have taken the final break of you giving him a goodbye gift. You placed the painting of the lake on his doorstep with a note attached. It was the painting you’d been working on when Jeno had approached you at the lake at the beginning of the summer.

END.

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