phone sex operator!nanami, whose voice is the first thing you hear when the line connects. it’s a low, smooth husk — carrying just the right amount of warmth to help ease your nerves a little. he does his intro — and it’s nothing overtly sexual — just a simple “good evening, what’s your name?”, but it’s enough to make a shiver run up your spine anyway.
the way he speaks to you makes your thighs instantly squeeze together, breath hitching. he’s entirely real, and not just some disinterested voice going off a script with a bored drawl. you don’t know his face, and you don’t even need to. just his voice alone is enough to leave you desperately, achingly wet.
phone sex operator!nanami, who doesn’t rush you when you stammer, only patiently coaxing you out of your shell with soft words and gentle questions. he asks for your name — and you give it to him, figuring there’s no real harm in offering that small truth to a stranger on the phone.
phone sex operator!nanami can tell that you’re nervous, possibly inexperienced — he hears it in the stutter of your voice each time you speak, in the tight edge of every breath of take. the sheets rustle every time you stumble around a reply, and nanami knows exactly what that sound means. you’re squirming. “it’s alright,” he tells you gently, “we can take it slow. what about you tell me what you’re wearing?”
phone sex operator!nanami talks you through it. he guides you through every lewd detail with a honeyed voice like he’s painting a picture just for your imagination alone. “i’d have you lay back for me,” he murmurs, “nice and slow. slide your hand down your stomach for me — lower,” and hums when you whimper in response. “there you go, sweetheart,” he praises. “don’t think. you’ve had a hard day. just listen to my voice.”
phone sex operator!nanami, who starts getting filthier right as the low rasp of his voice has you locked into a trance. your breath hitches, but you obey his every instruction, sliding your hand past the band of your cotton panties, the other slipping under your shirt to tease your breasts, exactly like how he instructs. you’d be so good on my cock, he murmurs. i bet you’d take me so well.
phone sex operator!nanami, whose voice is better than any vibrator, any fantasy, any late-night porn video you’ve desperately tried — but failed — to get off to. he doesn’t hang up the second you cum, instead staying on the line, whispering praises in your ear that have you twitching from the overstimulation.
“you did so well for me,” he tells you. “sounded so pretty when you fall apart.” and the way his breath brushes across the receiver makes it feel like it could really be his lips pressed that close to your ear. the intimacy of it all makes you shudder, especially when he says, “you can call me back anytime, sweetheart. i’ll be here.”
phone sex operator!nanami, whose voice sounds suspiciously similar to that new neighbour who just moved down the hall — that blond dude with the pressed suit and weary eyes who always works till late and graciously holds the elevator button for you when he sees you down the hallway.
he’s the same man whose gaze lingered just half a second too long in the elevator today, before quietly murmuring a low “good morning,” in greeting. you’ve never spoken beyond mere pleasantries — but now, in the late hours of the night, you simply can’t unhear the way the man on the phone says your name.
it’s the same cadence , the same low drawl… and it might just be a trick of the mind, but you could swear that he smiled at you just before the elevator doors slid shut; and that he said your name even though you’d never once told it to him in person.
a/n: i genuinely can’t tell u what the hell i was thinking whilst writing this. only that it came to me in a dream last weekend and grabbed me by the neck. i’ve been thinking about phone sex a lot and this will not be the last you hear of it… i kinda wanna make a whole series with the jjk men as phone sex operators i feel like sukuna or toji would be so fun (and filthy)
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you like to sit outside on hot days. dressed in a bikini around the pool as you sunbathe. you usually have a book in your hand, pages open as you engross yourself in a world outside of reality. or you're sitting around in a bikini with a bowl full of mangos waiting to be devoured.
today, you're doing the ladder.
with the pool chair carefully adjusted, you soak in the heat as you grab your third mango, humming pleasantly as you bite at the skin and use your teeth to reveal the golden beauty inside. this habitual experience in the summer became one of your favorite pastimes whenever you'd see a bunch of ripen fruit resting on the ground, waiting to be gathered.
you'd wait until your designated mango bowl was filled with at least eight of them before you'd feast on the fruits. typically, on days like these your husband would be at work or finding refuge inside, but more and more often now he'd find himself seated next to you, pretending to be occupied in a book when in reality, all eyes were on you.
gnawing at the hairy seed on one mango, the juices drip down your cheek and your neck all the way to your chest, staining your white bikini top. and you can feel nanami's eyes on you all throughout. you giggle, finally glancing at the man as his coffee-colored eyes are now shamelessly staring.
"what's the matter?"
"oh, nothing," nanami shakes his head, glancing back at his book before you again. he closes it and swings his feet over to sit up straight, now directed right towards you. "i just love mango season."
you snort, rolling your eyes. "really? well, i never see you eating them."
"don't need to," he crosses his arms. "i'm enjoying enough of it right now."
"what──" just as you furrow your eyebrows, you snort in laughter. "oh, you sick dog."
he chuckles. "i'm glad you quickly got it."
kicking your foot out at him in jest, you giggle before feeling his large palm grab at your ankle. he leans forward to grab the edge of the seat and pull it closer to him. eyes widening as your heart starts to race, you're rendered speechless, only able to mutter out, "oh..."
dropping your ankle, he pulls you close to him, forcing you to forget the fruit and kiss him.
he doesn't care about your stained and sticky body, pulling you on top of him as your previously occupied hand goes to travel to the nape of his neck. his mouth is quick to travel and latch onto the sweet path of mango juice down to your cleavage. your sweet moans further stir his cock as he grinds against you, hands falling at your waist to feel more.
nanami pulls at the strings of your bikini bottoms before they fully loosen and you're exposed. grateful for the fencing around the property, he doesn't have to worry about prying neighbors. his tongue tickles your skin, making you giggle before he stops at the hump of your breasts.
your top is the next to be gone when he asks, "why eat the fruit when i can just get to taste it on you?"
completely bare on top of your husband, you press yourself against him and reach for the hem of his swimming trunks to explore undearneath. holding onto his girth, you pull it out and align it with your entrance. he breathes into your skin, "take it easy," as you sink down on his cock. mouth falling agape and eyes closing shut as you take in every inch, you feel nanami's mouth back on your skin when your eyes flutter open.
"yeah," you breathe. "i think i love mango season, too."
Your parent's neighbor is a control freak, and you want to see what happens when he loses it. Unfortunately, that means that you're going to have to learn a lot more self control, instead.
content and warnings: age gap (hope you like being called kiddo), exhibitionism, edging/orgasm denial, overstimulation, dub-con/cnc, praise, no gender specified, no anatomy specified (vibrator use, penetration) 1.8k-ish words
Your parent's neighbor seems successful, from the outside. Wealthy. Nice, mid-century modern house. A son, about your age, attending university for engineering.
But you know he's not. He's actually... kind of a mess.
He's neurotic. Tense. And he's controlling to the point of compulsion, sometimes. It makes him excellent at his job, and terrible with people.
You're a little obsessed. And tonight, you're going to do something about it.
Last week, you helped him install new security cameras around his house. He was the same as ever, that day; when you looked over his shoulder to examine the laptop to check that all of the feeds were working, your breath brushed his ear, damp and hot.
"That's enough of that, kiddo," he said, as usual, without taking his eyes off of the screen.
You were frustrated. Petulant, maybe (which wasn't helping the "kiddo" allegations, despite being an adult.) But you couldn't help yourself from provoking him, just a little.
"What's that, old man?" you asked, voice low and playful. "Can't control yourself?"
"I can control myself just fine," he corrected, pushing his reading glasses up onto the crown of his head and snapping the laptop shut. "It's you who needs to learn a little self control."
But you saw it when he stood, even though he tried to hide it. The undeniable reaction to your teasing, your proximity, pressed tight against the fabric of his slacks.
You thought about it for the rest of the day. That night, you came up with a plan.
You're watching the puppy again. It's not your neighbor's; technically, it's his son's, but since his son lives in student housing, it falls to his dad by default. Which means, often, it falls to you. At least you get paid.
The dog is actually the reason for the new security cameras. Presumably, they'd allow him to keep an eye on the thing while he's at work, though you suspect he liked the security aspect as well. He seemed pleased with the idea of keeping tabs on all of the rooms in his house while he was away.
Control freak.
But tonight, that's a blessing. Your neighbor is attending some fancy winter party for his work. You know him well enough to know that he'll likely check the cameras at least once while he's there - not to be weird, not to peep or anything - but because he just can't seem to help himself. His need for control is almost compulsive. But just in case he forgot about the cameras, you do give him a little nudge.
You get there right on time, backpack slung over one shoulder. He opens the door wearing a tux, his salt and pepper hair slicked back. (Fuck.) He gives you the standard speech about what the dog needs and when. (Half a cup of his kibble and a small scoop of the raw food from the fridge. His walk. Twenty minutes of fetch in the backyard.)
You make a point to roll your eyes and seem annoyed by this.
"Yeah, yeah," you say, shrugging. "I got it. Really, you should just check the cameras if you don't trust me by now."
That should do it. You smile politely as he leaves.
Once the dog is taken care of, he's tired enough to go curl up in his crate, and you're ready.
You choose the living room. It has the nicest lighting, and, from what you remember, the best framing. You settle in right on the dark leather couch, taking off your sweater, assured that anyone watching the feed can see every inch of you.
You start slowly, by running your hands up and down your skin, over the thin fabric of your shirt and the soft expanse of your thighs. But you don't need much warm up. You've been aching for this since you thought of it. You can already feel your need building between you legs, just wondering if he's checked the camera yet. Has he noticed? Seen what you're doing?
Something throbs at the idea, and you reach for the backpack, unable to hold back any longer. When you find what you're looking for, you let out a soft sound of anticipation and turn it on. It buzzes to life, strong and loud. You charged it all night for this.
You start by running it over the denim of your pants, legs spread. As your need grows, you begin to slide down the leather of the couch, your knees spreading father and farther as your breath comes faster. Shallower.
Eventually, the teasing becomes too much, and you lose the jeans entirely. You don't bother to censor yourself as you gasp and buck your hips. That's the point, after all, isn't it? Let him see. Let him fucking hear.
You're as loud as you want to be. But you do pull back as you feel yourself get close.
His words echo in your head as you gasp, ripping the toy away from that sensitive spot between your legs.
Self control.
When the trembling, needy feeling has passed, you press it back, this time in a new position. Something new for anyone watching to look at. Your leg slung over the armrest; on your knees; on all fours.
You do this over and over. The vibrator was not the only toy you brought, and you want him to see just how good you can be. You can fill any hole, fight through any sensation, and still pull back. Deny yourself. You stuff yourself with glass and silicone, as much as you can take, all the while never letting that vibe leave you most tender spot.
Once, you almost lose control, practically throwing the toy when you realize just how far you pushed it. Even without the stimulation, your soft flesh trembles and aches, and for several horrifying seconds, you feel your orgasm bearing down on you.
"Fuck--" you gasp. In a desperate attempt to stop it, you bite down hard on your arm, crying out against the skin in pain and agonizing, annihilated pleasure.
But it stops. You lie there, panting, for almost a minute before starting again with a pitiful moan.
By the four hour mark, you're a whiny fucking mess on the couch. You've used up all of your good positions, all of your cute little poses designed to make him pay attention; now, you're just flat on your stomach, vibrator between you and the couch cushion, humping in a relentless, steady rhythm. The feeling between your legs is an unending drone, a source of ecstasy and exquisite pain.
You've entirely lost track of time. It's just you and this haze of ache and denial.
And then... there he is.
He bursts in suddenly. You didn't even hear the car in the driveway, just the sound of the front door slamming and heavy footsteps stomping toward the living room. You don't even look up, but you can feel his eyes on you as you grind into the couch.
"Hey, old man," you manage. Your voice is slurry, almost a moan; you sound utterly wrecked, floating in a cloud of sex and deprivation.
Your neighbor makes a sound you can't decipher, something between a groan and a growl, and suddenly there are hands in your hair, wrenching your neck back.
"Don't old man me," he says. "What is this?"
His voice is low and dangerous.
But still controlled. Always so fucking controlled. You feel something desperate rise from your stomach, a need to see him snap.
"I did it for you," you say. You can barely pant out the words with the vibe against your sex and your head yanked back. "Did you see? I touched myself... for so long..."
"For me?"
His voice cracks, and he pulls your head back even more, exposing your throat like a predator baring its prey's weak point.
"So you wanted me to see, then," he says. "You wanted this. This reaction."
You feel it, then: his cock, hard and straining against his perfectly pleated black tuxedo pants. He presses against your side, grinding just once. You groan, blood throbbing between your legs.
Before you can say anything, he tugs you by your hair to pull you back. The vibrator falls away, the incessant stimulation finally relenting. You don't have time to enjoy its absence, though, before he's pressing you against the back of the couch with one hand, the other tugging at his bow tie. His suspenders.
"Do you-" he says, yanking the black tie, letting it hang open on his collar, "-have any idea-" tugging on his suspenders, letting one fall, "-what you looked like?"
You shake your head, though he seems utterly unconcerned with your response.
"Do you have any idea what you did to me tonight?" he asks, pulling the other suspender down. "Do you have any idea-- Fuck. What were you trying to prove?"
"Control," you say. Breathy. "I waited for you. To prove I have self control."
You swear you see something flash in his eyes. Something dangerous. Something hungry.
"You think this is control?" he bites out. He reaches down and finds the vibrator, still humming uselessly against the cushion, and shoves it between your sweat and sex soaked thighs. "This isn't control, kiddo. This is fucking reckless."
He grinds the palm of his hand down, pressing the vibrator hard against you. You cry out, overstimulated and aching.
"You wanted to drive me crazy? You wanted to see me lose control?" he growls, leaning down by your ear.
You blink up at him. You've never seen him like this. He looks wild. Feral.
Your heart drops, but, slowly, you nod.
"Then congratulations," he says, killing the vibrator and tossing it to the side.
Then he flips you over.
He's not gentle as he breaches you from behind. He pierces halfway in with the thrust; you cry out against the cool leather. You're plenty ready to take him, though; your toys from earlier in the night prepared you, and you arch your spine, pressing back against him. Fucking yourself on his cock.
You should probably be more embarrassed that you cum after only one or two deep thrusts, but you're too far gone for that. You can't even be bothered to care about the mess you make on the nice leather.
It doesn't stop him, though. He keeps going. He's relentless, his hands all over your chest and neck and jaw. His fingers in your mouth. A large hand squeezing a thigh.
After you cum again, you think he might be finished, since he slows a bit and pulls out. But you soon learn that he's flipping you over.
"That's it," he grunts, voice low as he thrusts into you again. "That's what I need. Just... just take more for me. I can't stop now, do you understand? I cant... fuck, baby. You just have to take it. You've got this."
This time, he reaches down between you two, hand stroking even as you thrash. It's too much.
It's too much.
And still, you cum again.
"That's right," he pants, unbuttoning the top button of his white shirt, already soaked with sweat. "Just hang in there. You can do it. Atta-kid. Just... a little more..."
BIG DUMMY
tw: dubcon/ noncon, manhandling, size kink
men who insist on blocking your way with their large frames at every opportunity they have. those who accidentally stand in front of you, and whatever object you want to get, ensuring you can't get by without asking them or pushing them aside. and those who conveniently appear when you need to get something that's high up.
men who annoy the shit out of you by insisting that you're just so much smaller than him. who look down at you with a condescending smirk as you angrily explain to him that you're not 'that' small. the ones who grab whatever you have and grin at you while they hold it high above you. forcing you to stretch and jump to get it back.
men who chuckle as you try to push them back and fight them off. who catch your smaller wrists in their large palm and easily pull you against them. men who insist on dropping their full weight over you - crushing you especially when you're in his bed.
men who when you snap back at how big, dumb and annoying he is, tell you that he has something even bigger to show you. who wrestle you down on the couch, bed, or floor, effortlessly, and pin you with one hand.
men who like to push their thick dicks inside your cunt. watching as you thrash about, scream, and beg him to stop, to slow down. men who think you sound sooo cute when he has you crying about how he's 'too big' how he needs to 'stop' or whatever. the ones who love the feel of your fluttering pussy around his hard cock. who enjoy your soft, small hands pushing against his chest. who can't get enough of your gummy walls, squeezing the life out of him.
men who love the size difference so much that it turned him into some kind of sick fuck. but you must be just as sick, since you always cum when he has you under him.
-where the loser of the round has to strip away a piece of clothing.ᐟ.ᐟ
Contents: Jing Yuan x Reader, MDNI, no smut but heavily suggestive, reader has woman's body(wears a bra), I did not properly proof read this so beware of that, I just wanted to share the brainrot.. I may continue this or try writing again the same theme, who knows
A/N: Been a while since I wrote anything, have y'all missed me? I missed writing.. I miss Jing Yaun too. Anway, I do hope y'all enjoy this! <3
Words: 1616
The aroma of heavy incense clung to the ceiling and the walls while the sound of running water from the bird fountain outside represented something you so desperately yearned for - movement. Your cheek rested in your palm, your finger tapping against your cheekbone as the yellow chess pieces in front of you taunted you with their odd placements across the board. You were well aware of how they all got there, of course, but the risk of losing made even the smartest actions feel redundant, especially considering the fact you were the player with the less amount of pieces now.
Across from you sat Jing Yuan in all his leisurely glory, sitting down with one knee propped up and his elbow on it in order to make himself the perfect arm rest for his head. He was missing his coat and boots, while you were out of your shoes and pants. The honey gold gaze was never too far from your parted thighs as you sat criss-cross before the Kang table.
“Good fortunes come to those that wait, is that not how the saying goes?” he had hummed out during your previous action round, where you were taking even longer to think about your next move before finally moving your knight across the board. It was reminiscent of something backhanded, if only he didn’t mean it in a teasing manner you would have taken some offense, since he was the one waiting, and you weren’t keen on the idea of letting him win. His fingers flex before he grabs for his piece, making it dash across the board in a diagonal line until he is effectively threatening two of your pieces.
“You know.. you really can be so infuriating sometimes. I mean- Strip Chess, really? For a General I’d expect a more refined taste in these kinds of…courting” you muse, half in thought and half present as your eyes move over your available pieces and possible sacrifices.
“My, my.. You forget that a General is human after all” Jing Yuan chuckles, that deep sound that makes your head feel as if it’s filled with cotton late at night, “And I am certainly not above the ways of human whims and flights of fancy, especially concerning such a lovely presence. Besides, when have I ever refused to play chess with you?” His focus has turned to you, observing you gently, his expression yielding little to his true feelings hiding inside those golden eyes.
“You’re the one who proposed this game this time around, not me.”
It proved a bit hard to focus on the board alone, and your eyes kept glancing from the board up to him and back to the board again. Then your eyes caught something you failed to notice beforehand - the perfect opening to pin his King. Your eyes must’ve given something away - perhaps the rising of your eyebrows in surprise or the glint that flickered across your eyes - since Jing Yuan’s sights were going down to the board again.
Before he could comprehend what got you to react in such a way, your hand snapped forth and rushed to move your queen piece in position, your heart hammering in excitement and triumph as the piece slammed down, the room echoing with the words “Check mate!”
The General stares in shock, the corners of his features and his eyes softening to let in genuine curiosity and surprise seep through. For the briefest of moments there was no sound of the fountain or the birds or the wind, only your bated breath.
Then Jing Yuan shattered the silence and set everything in motion once more with a hearty laugh that showed the subtle canines in his mouth, his eyes squinting and closing shut in mirth at the realization of what your victory meant.
“What a surprise. And here I thought I surely had you cornered. How did you manage to escape so narrowly…” he tuts and clicks his tongue, a small shake of his head makes his lovely thick mane move side to side, a stray piece falling over his eye. “Well, what will it be?” He looks your way again, as if he hadn’t been ogling you all throughout the game, giving you the choice in what he removes next.
Your reply comes swiftly, carrying on the still drumming heart which emboldened your mind. “Your shirt has gotta go, General”- you said in such a sing-song way, devoid of shame or doubt.
“While I have no objections to your decision -” he began, reaching for the hem, pulling it up in a way that was way too slow in your opinion, agonizing, and for a split moment you had half the mind to call him out on it, “-but would that not impede your…judgement in the next round, hm?”
“I don’t think that should be your concern. What’s more, it could very well be in your favor” you tell him as you began organizing the pieces, trying to district yourself, even momentarily, from the view of his delicious pecs as he slid his shirt off and set it aside. “And what do you take me for, anyway? I am not too easily swayed”... what a lie. You knew it, he knew it.
Jing Yuan only smiled at you, motioning for you to open the round this time.
What would have gotten rather dull by the third round only became more enticing by the fourth to you and your General. The delayed satisfaction and the chase of getting the other to a state of undress first did wonders to have you both pent up, hurrying your movements, letting pieces succumb to defeat quicker and quicker than the last rounds. Jing Yuan was down to his undergarments and so were you.
A part of you did wonder whether the General was letting you win at times, only to sate your own desire, or perhaps to see the triumph sparkle in your eyes, or the triumphs you got so far were truly yours.
It mattered little as the round ended abruptly when Jing Yuan slid one of his knights forth, putting it in line with your King. Your Queen was on the other end of the board and your King had nowhere else to run. Your hand awkwardly hovered over the King piece, your mouth opening and closing like that of a fish out of water, your mind too far ahead with imagining what his reaction would have been to you moving your bishop half way, failing to catch up to the fact you just lost the round. A sudden flush came over you when it dawned upon you.
A feeling comparable to that of a balloon full to bursting filled your chest, tightening around your throat as you looked at your man across the table, ignoring the obvious signs of arousal that strained against his underwear. He looked too calm for his own good, you thought as your eyes swept over his features, thinking how good it would be to wipe that handsome smirk off his face.
“What is it now? Don’t tell me you’re chickening out now.. We’re so far in, my sweet.”
“..I am not chickening out…” you said with a huff, a nervous smile stretching your lips to your cheeks, frustrating you in the ways your body didn’t want to listen to you.
“You’ve become shy then?”
“Absolutely not. I have nothing to be shy or embarrassed about-”
“How about you accept my offer to help you out then? The General, in the end, is more than willing to lend a helping hand to those in need of aid.” A wink accompanies his words and you feel like you’re melting, your heart having become a furnace and your body a forge of desire. You watch as Jing Yuan leans back on his hand, his thighs spread in such a fine way it would make a blind person drool, and he pats his thigh, beckoning you over wordlessly.
And who are you to deny?
You pad over on bare feet, sinking down to your knees to straddle his thigh, the warmth of it beneath you sending hot thrill through your veins. Jing Yuan is on you in no time, leaning forward and nosing at your neck while his large hands, calloused from centuries of handling the hilt of a blade, find your waist and hips. One hand slides to the back and glides up your spine with a delicate touch that leaves goosebumps in its wake.
The hand on your hip goes downward, grabbing at the back of your thigh to swing it over him so you are straddling him completely and he relishes in the hitched breath and the flush, warm skin beneath his teeth. His fingers find the clip that holds your bra,struggling with it and pawing at it lazily until it gives out, going slack on your form - but he doesn’t remove the garment right away.
His lips find the pulse on your neck and he abuses the way it makes you squirm and gasp, your hands threading through his silvery hair. You feel the sliding of his fingers on your spine again, this time going downward, coming to the point of your underwear, his fingers slipping underneath and then his whole hand, cupping a healthy amount of your ass in his palm.
Suddenly, he is flipping you both over and you find your back pressed to the ground, his warm body above you, his hair tickling your cheeks while he gazes down at you with hunger and love in equal measures. The balloon was about to burst.
“Let’s get you out of these confinements now, then. It is well overdue..”
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Ⓒ n0tamused/jarttavia_. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
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It was a lazy Sunday in which your days off had finally aligned. Zayne wasn’t going to be called in and Jenna had practically begged you to take a break for your own health, so now you had the day all to yourselves. You stayed curled into zaynes side on the couch as you caught up about the little things you had experienced over the past few weeks. While you would text about it and talk a little at home, it was a bit hard with how busy you both were.
Somehow the conversation shifted to TMI things you knew about your coworkers bedroom lives. Things you had heard eavesdropping, or from Tara, who was even more of a gossip than you. Zayne would tsk and tell you it’s not any of your business and to respect their privacy. Despite this, he was still intently listening and asking about details. You knew deep down, he’s just as nosy as you are.
“Fucking 3 strangers in one night is actually crazy though, don’t you think? I mean, more power to him I guess, but that’s so much sweat and…fluids of people you barely know. I couldn’t understand, honestly.”
Zayne let out a quiet huff. “I wish the general populous were more worried about getting tests done before they engage in any sort of intimacy. It’s troubling that STD’s aren’t more of a concern.” You chuckled a little before speaking, “If I remember correctly, you didn’t have me take any sort of tests before the first time we made love…” You bit your lip, nudging him teasingly.
Zayne was unfazed. “I was willing to catch whatever disease you had.”
You gawked at him. “Zayne Li, that’s terrible!”
A small smirk then graced his lips. “I also have access to your medical records and would often request the labs to test you for a multitude of things, just to ensure you were healthy.” You blinked at him. “…is that…ethical?” Zayne only shrugged. “I don’t particularly care what’s ethical when it comes to your health.”
“…”
You only let out an amused hm before continuing your chat.
becoming a knight to save your family from impending poverty because the pay is much better compared to being a street vendor. ending up in the fifth company and meeting your ice-cold vice captain who's actually the captain everywhere but by name.
you're meek and tend to keep to yourself, only biting your tongue before looking away every time another knight gets berated by the vice captain because of their incompetence. you're not much, but you try not to stand in his way, mostly to avoid public humiliation, but also out of genuine respect for him. he has a harsh personality, both in and out of the battlefield, but he keeps the company alive, so...
during a night of celebration, amidst the loud cheers and campfire incessantly crackling, you tentatively sat down next to your vice captain and shyly told him while you stared down your cup of dandelion wine,
"thank you for taking care of us, vice captain."
he had hummed, taking a sip of his own before redirecting his eerie eyes to your figure. what went through his mind at that time? had he thought you to be an easy target to bully? that's the only reasonable memory you have in your mind; without it, his obsession with you from then on would be illogical.
lohen checks up on you often. peeking his head from unsuspecting corners when you're tasked with transporting goods or escorting civilians, whistling in appreciation before telling you good job. you'd smile and thank him in a quiet voice. vice captain lohen, underneath his icy words, is a kind man. that brought you great relief.
since the expedition grandmaster varka is embarking on places miles away from home, you grew to find familiarity and comfort in your vice captain. your few friends are all in mondstadt, and this expedition has been ongoing for over a year now... surely, it's not criminal for you to make a friend.
and he seems to reciprocate your idea of closeness - he brings you alongside during patrols, breaks his loaf of bread in half to share with you, clicks his tongue in annoyance and pulls out his polearm when a knight makes a distasteful joke about your closed-off personality... lohen is your friend.
during another celebratory night, you're startled to find that lohen's line of thinking never aligned with yours, even from the start.
you're in the middle of telling some poorly narrated story about your childhood when vice captain lohen unexpectedly leans over to kiss you, his hand firmly settling over your jaw and locking you in place. you can only widen your eyes in disbelief, voiced refusal muffled by his own mouth. feeble hands strain to push him away, but he's not moved even just a centimeter apart.
he's strong. you've always known this to be contradictory to his build, but right now, he displays it terrifyingly. when he parts from you with a smile, you're lightheaded.
"vice captain, i-" you cough, cringing at the string of saliva he catches using his index finger before licking it off. "i, i don't fancy you that way. i'm sorry, but...."
but you need to go, you intended to say, his sharp smile restrains you from saying it out loud. he didn't kiss you senselessly; there's a motive behind it, you think.
there's a distant entourage of cheers shortly after, you whip your head around only to see drunken and sober knights alike whistling and wolfing at vice captain lohen's 'success' at romance.
"you finally went for it, vice cap!"
you feel your feet getting cold. they've always known lohen's feelings. will they be against your rejection of the vice captain's feelings? were you the odd one?
facing forward, you're dismayed to see the mirthful glint within his abyssal eyes. he's teasing you, using the finger he licked to wipe off the tears threatening to spill forth from your waterline,
Lohenny coming home to his not-really beloved (you) after the long expedition away from home only to be met with a babe that looks wayyy too similar to the chief alchemist nestling against your bosom
Live lohen reaction :
omfggggg lohen's (y/n) also being homunculus baby trapper albedo's (y/n).... not even einstein could possess this level of genius <3
lohen leaving for the expedition all those years ago, sending smug glances at a brooding albedo because you gave the vice captain your handkerchief as a farewell gift. the words 'may the wind guide you back home safely' are embroidered into the cotton fabric - you've prepared for this beforehand. it's not just an impulsive choice. between lohen and albedo, only one has a handkerchief specially personalized by you, and it's not the chief alchemist who'll be staying here in mondstadt.
he holds onto it with an iron grip, rare sincere smile never faltering, even when the knights began exiting beyond the city gates. he waves you goodbye and, as a promise that he'll come back, places a benign kiss on the handkerchief you gave him.
albedo is losing this battlefield, lohen was so convinced that he was.
you're not close to albedo. you hold no interest in the sciences like alchemy. unlike your clear friendship with lohen, the most albedo gets from you is a formal greeting and bow.
confident that your relationship, lack thereof, with albedo will stay in dormancy, lohen embarks alongside other knights with the grandmaster leading the way. the handkerchief still resonates an illusion of your warmth from its place in his pocket.
after a grueling half-decade and spending countless nights soiling both the letters you'd write to him and his souvenir handkerchief, lohen returns to mondstadt with high hopes. knowing you, you're probably off fretting over diona in cat's tail.
right?
so then why is he hallucinating a version of you carrying an ugly blond (the same shade as that chief alchemist...) baby in an embrace... :))))) oh, you're probably babysitting a new family member of that freak albedo !!
lohen clears his throat, willing his body to relax. it's fine, you'd never have children before marriage, you told him that yoursel-
a vein nearly bursts within a millisecond when he witnesses albedo appearing out of nowhere to kiss the crown of your head. you two look like...
sadistic fighter lohen x innocent medic reader… im so lohenpilled rn 😔😔
i cant tell what i like better, people (*COUGH VARKA*) finding lohen shirtless in your medic tent and thinking/telling everyone you two are dating, and of course lohen does nothing to stop the rumors. instead he makes his empty eyes turn a little sad everytime you refute the rumors. mondstaters love romance and now they’re invested in getting you two together!!
ooorrrr where mond is more “traditional” in a sense!! you two were caught in a compromising position and now you have to get married #oops
my stupid, innocent medic (y/n) 🥹💗
i like to think that you were facing against the tent's entrance, so when lohen saw varka peeking in, he immediately shushed the grandmaster to leave the two of you alone. err, roger that, lohen! he definitely debriefs with him after, where he'd feed him blatant misinformation about dating you. which spreads to the other knights.... and right now, they're all hush-hush about it.
hnghh being so confused when the knights, who used to have no problems shedding their top armor in front of you, are now actively avoiding your touch and violently refusing to strip. hey, what's wrong? do their wounds hurt to the point that they don't want to be touched? you're expectantly looking at them with imaginary drooped ears, meanwhile they feel the chilling stare of vice captain lohen lingering just outside the tent. barbatos, please save them... they only want their wounds to be treated >< ! they're not here to homewreck a relationship!
shakily taking the gauze from your hands, they insist that they can patch themselves up before running out of the tent, leaving you on your lonesome. ...hm, you worry for that knight. it's best that you follow them-
oh, it's vice captain lohen entering your medic tent for the third time today.
you bow, "hello, sir. injuries?"
he shakes his head with a smile. "i just wanted to watch over you. i hope you don't mind me observing you at work?"
"? no, not at all! ^^"
vice captain lohen sits on a foldable chair and crosses his arms. humming out melodies while you start organizing your supplies, waiting for the next patient to come in.
surprisingly, your next patient is the bigshot himself: grandmaster varka. he's sheepishly scratching his cheek, politely smiling at you in greeting as he gestures to a graze wound on his forearm.
"sorry to bother ya mx. medic, but i uh..." his line of sight latches onto the vice captain lounging in the background and immediately backtracks for some reason.
"shoot. i didn't know lohen'd be here! i better give you two lovebirds some alone time, huh?"
lovebirds....? who?
you look behind you, vice captain lohen? and you? did varka mean that?
thinking of the cocky smirk lohen gets when he has to take off his shirt in front of all the kof and they see the deep scratches n scars he has all over his back.. some give him a worried look, others let out gasps of shock, but two in particular let out a whistle while smiling (varka) and a deep hearted chuckle (kaeya) for they know what or who caused those 🫠🫠
the way i don't give a fuckkkkkkkkkk (i do)
ugh picturing a KoF training day where majority of the knights are gathered in one place, including the captains and vice captains, with the grandmaster overseeing the entire event. sports day.... except with knights !! ^^ lohen getting so worked up participating in the mini games that he ends up disregarding his outer coat because of the heat.
but then it's still unbearably hot, kaeya's snickering at his vexed expression during warm-ups, so he's led to just forgo any upper clothing even if for a brief time. he's too busy sighing over the wind hitting his bare skin to notice a gaggle of knights gathering nearby to gawk over the concerning amount of open wounds he has on his back.
it's kaeya, through muffled laughter, who asks on their behalf, "dare i say that the wildlife recently mopped the floor with you?"
lohen raises a brow, left hand reaching behind to feel his back. he ends up chipping off a scabbing wound before hummng in understanding. he gets it now.
his mind reminisces over how the fresh and healing wounds ended up on his skin in the first place: an insistence on his part. he'd often redirect your hand, clinging to the bedsheets, to prop over his shoulder and encourage you to leave as many marks as you wanted. if you truly believe that he's hurting you, then he deems it fair that you hurt him back through that method.
ah... just thinking about you has his mind going haywire. the minigames and drills don't sound appealing to his ears anymore.
peeking over his shoulder, he smiles at the knights waiting for his answer, "maybe. who knows, really?"
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mondstadt citizens holding in their audible groans because whenever they see the fifth company vice captain out in the open, it's only a matter of time before he finds you and commences the most shameless displays of public affection that even barbatos would forbid. not even an established couple, he just likes to lie by saying that he acts this affectionate towards all his friends :)
your own captain, eula of the reconnaissance company, clicks her tongue in annoyance should he come barreling in during meetings, wearing a stupid giddy smile and smears of blood on his face. she never allows him to take you away when you're in her presence, so lohen strives to catch you when you're on your own.
and in the hours after he's had his fun of smothering you in unwanted affection, eula will invite you to drink in angel's share where you're free to air out your grievances. she doesn't have a lot of friends, but she knows that a lending ear is what you need during these trying times.
however instead of you being the one to ramble, she's the one who takes more offense on your behalf. not even thirty minutes in, she's riled up and letting her mouth run amok, complaining about the blue bastard and his penchant for causing you trouble. who does he think he is to disobey a captain's orders like hers when she tells him to leave you alone? so annoying. his unnecessary pda is annoying too. him as a person is just flat-out annoying. it's good that you're under her company instead of his.
a few more alcoholic shots down her throat, eula becomes just as annoying.
her hatred toward lohen rears its head as jealousy from how insistent she is on touching you - acting the same way he does, but inebriated. like covering the tracks he left behind on your skin by overpowering it with her own skin. you like her touch better, right? in fact, you like her more in general. else why would you be her subordinate, and not his? exactly.
you wonder if she'll act like nothing happened here in the tavern when she sees you at work.
Lohen who manages to convince everyone (international or not) that he's with y/n,,,and y/n, the newer recuit, only hears about this because of Varka's big mouth
#awkward....
"sir lohen, can we- can we please talk?"
what was intended to be a confident question posed to your infamous vice captain comes out small and wavering. it sounds closer to a mice's squeak than anything else.
but it gets the job done. the low volume of your voice, trampled amongst the sea of other knights' voices, seems to be inconsequential to sir lohen's sharp ears (or is it simply attuned to look out for your voice?)- not a second later, his head turns to your direction. signature teasing smile on his lips, right hand waving at you like you're close comrades.
you don't make a move to step closer to him - rather, it's sir lohen who comes down a small flight of stairs for you. once he's only a few feet away from you, other knights begin to take notice. their previous topics are overriden by the spectacle they're witnessing as of this moment - what once was a collective discordance of voices melts together into a common comment:
"sir lohen's sweetheart is here for him!"
grand master varka, may barbatos bless his heart, accidentally unearthed you the shocking news that other knights of favonius believe you to be sir lohen's lover.
you're not. you're not his sweetheart or lover, and you're not braving through the humiliation of your life for lohen specifically. you're here to correct an egregious mistake and to quell the rumors brought forth from his perfidious lips.
your hand reaches out to tug on his cape. desperately, you whisper for him to hear, "we need to talk in seclusion... please, sir lohen."
his unfaltering smile widens at your plea, haunting eyes curving alongside. without asking, his hand snakes around your wrist and loudly announces to everyone in the vicinity,
"we'll be leaving for quite some time, watch the camp in our absence."
the way he phrases his words leaves room for a whole other meaning: a shameless tryst; rendezvous in a pervasive nature. you can only lower your head in shame as you exit with sir lohen by your side, unable to block out the whistling a few bold knights dare to make.
as if to assure you, lohen says, "i'll deal with them later, don't worry."
he's acting like he's not the root cause of all your problems.
I swear Lohen sticks his tongue right down your throat to literally drink your saliva….
his version of wine testing is that YOU need to swish the wine around your mouth before spitting it back out onto his own glass. and then he'll savour it by sips because he's a gentlemanly knight 🙂↕️ since mondstadt is big on alcohol, i like to think some people get curious and would just offhandedly ask if they can taste his drink, but then freakhen turns around with an icy tint to his eyes before strictly telling them no.... what happened to nonchalance.
Okay so listen.... Lohen... So Lohen right? .... Lohen....... BUT babydaddy lohen and he's only a bbddy because darling wants NOTHING to do w him and refuses to admit that #that thing got her pregnant
the concept of failed babytrapping with lohen because in a universe where children born out of wedlock are frowned upon in mondstadt, one would think that you'd be on your knees begging him to take responsibility by now. and he will!! yet here you go, acting like the father of your baby is some one-night stand and not the esteemed vice captain of the fifth company. you're practically erasing him from the picture. hey, ^^;; what gives?
the truth is simple: you'll take the whispers of "poor woman... throwing her life away for some man she met in one night," instead of, "oh, wow... lohen got you pregnant? ...no, that's nice. that's nice. good luck with your pregnancy...!"
him third wheeling AND playing cupid for lohen(y/n) to be specific. my comedic trio....
you know, he has an eye for these types of things. he saw that 'spark' between seamus and frederica before their romance truly blossomed (er, ignore the divorce down the line!), who's to say he can't spot the same thing between you and lohen? also ignoring how the spark only comes from lohen, and... you repel the sparks away from you. all inconsequential! just trust in his long history of bringing people together (he has one couple under his belt?) - this is your dear grand master, after all 🙂↕️🙂↕️.
soooo anyone up for clearing out a hilichurl camp? sure, any one of you can do it solo, but think of this as a group bonding experience! (but grand master, why would the group consist of only three members? - you are promptly ignored) but oops, turns out something came up hours before, paperwork and all that, you know? a grand master has his duties to attend to, so clear it in his absence, trusty subordinates <3 he's rooting for you and lohen! not that either of you needs it.
he's giggling to himself while signing away at documents - he can imagine the romance brooding now! ...only for lohen to show up at his office with a mean red handprint on his face, though judging from his dilated pupils, he really must've enjoyed that.
oookay then, plan b it is. hey, since you've both been hardworking knights, let him treat you to a round of drinks? this time, he'll be there in person, he swears!
though, it's unknown to him why and how he ended up sitting between you and lohen, and why are you treating him as a shield against the vice captain?!
and mind you, the only one benefiting from his matchmaking escapades right now is lohen??? shut down your cupid services ASAP @/varka
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Lohen would say “I love my daughter” while he holds her in his arms and she tries to stab him for the 165364737th time
they're always fighting over you because they're both so, so greedy when it comes to hogging your attention. lohen actually thinks of prune as this pesky parasite that's made you its victim but since it'll earn him brownie points from you, he makes sure to take care of that child ^^ whereas prune sees him as a threat in your life, because whyyy does he insist on wasting your time by coming up to you bleeding from head to toe?? there are certified medics for that??? it'd be better if you just let him drop dead from blood loss, but, hm.... mama is too kind for that. sadly.
i do think they eventually really do view each other as family because #loveendures. well, it's more of they come to a mutual agreement of you must never, everrrr leave them and to prevent this entirely, it'd need their cooperation. at least they have a fun time setting up ambush traps and pranking those who've wronged you here in dornman port :/ prune's violent attitude toward him never really washes away though, and trust that the things lohen teaches her (poisoning, knife throwing, handling a gun, etc.) is used on him as test runs. ah, they grow up so fast... 🥹🫶
❕cw: pseudo-incest, throat training, gagging, mentions of vomit, mentions of face fucking, impact-play
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⋆ 𑣿 ⠀𝕾ibling persistence is like no other.
she doesn't even have to say it, just gives him a look that translates into everything. caleb is good like that, being able to read minuscule expressions that mean more than the world. he counts the number of lines between her brows, determining exactly what she needs.
there's no need to take his gloves off— he knows she likes it rough, untamed, and a bit fucked up (more than he likes to admit, but he'll never turn down the opportunity to ruin her perfect little throat).
"caleb."
"i know, baby. look at you. so fuckin' pathetic for me, yeah?" he caresses her soft skin, the friction between her cheek and his leather-clad hand enough to spark arousal. she nods, teeth catching onto the heel of his palm. her webbed lashes fail to cover the sin behind her eyes. he enables it anyway, because he's no god damn saint.
he never claimed to be.
"always need something in that mouth of yours. open wider f'me, pips. there you go, good girl." his index and middle fingers stroke down the center of her hot, wet muscle.
she's salivating like a mutt, eyes tearing up the further down he reaches. the poor girl has such a terrible gag reflex, and he tuts at her when she begins to choke once he hits the back of her tongue. letting his thick digits linger, he wraps his other hand around her throat. she whines, coughing and wincing at the thought of vomiting onto him.
"you need to breathe." how else will he fit inside?
slowly, she begins to adjust to his tempo, jaw slackening and drool pooling on the floor as he slides his fingers in and out of her. the corner of his lips curls upward in a sneer, feeling his trousers grow tighter by the second. he wishes he had taken his hat off, sweat beading at the back of his neck.
"such a pretty mouth— letting big brother use it like that sweet pussy. you want me to fuck it, too? s'that what my mei mei needs?"
she nods more, but he's in the mood to admonish bad habits. he pulls his fingers out for a brief moment, not for respite, but to strike her across the face before plunging them back in. she cries out, wriggling under his weight.
"use your words."
"y-yeth!" she struggles to annuciate.
it's convincing enough for his good graces, letting her suck off the mess she made on his gloves. a shame he can't keep her like this forever: beautiful and utterly ruined for him, lips locked around the black material.
"tell me you want this cock."
she's kneeling between his spread legs in an instant, nuzzling her face against the bulge in his pants. with puffy lips and a slobbery chin, she stares up at him in pure desperation. fuck, he loves her. he loves her so much it kills him.
"i want it, i want caleb's cock. please give it to me, gege."
"you'd die without it?"
it's a test of patience, but she's able to fight the urge to roll her eyes at him. her heart lunges at the thought of being robbed of his dick right now, rubbing her thighs together in frustration. she'll settle for groveling if it means he'll give her what she wants.
yes, i'd die without my brother's cock.
dedicated to my love @medicli
a mystery is just waiting to be solved 💫 @chika-seno - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
