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zevrra · 2 months ago

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𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 ⋆˚꩜｡

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩: out of all the days for your car to have broken down, leaving you stranded on the side of the road, it had to be the day your dad had just left for a sudden business trip—he was hours away by now and you were just here; stuck. you could call a tow truck but the bill for that was…way out of the budget. so the only other thing you could think of to do was to call your dad’s best friend; joel miller.

a.k.a joel (the sexiest man alive) comes to your rescue and you want to repay him for it.

𝐟𝐭.dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

𝐰𝐜: 7k

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬: mdni, no-outbreak!joel, straight smut, no real plot, implied forbidden romance, significant AGE GAP, reader is in their 20s, joel is in his 50s, mention of sarah(30s + no ellie), no use of y/n, joel likes pet names, sexual tension, joel tries to remain morally ‘right’, joel’s a lil insecure if you squint, thigh riding if you squint, dirty talk, handjob (both m and f receiving), unprotected p in v (just the tip!), coming onto/between v too.

𝐚/𝐧: FIND PART 2 HERE

You’ve heard more stories about Joel Miller than you had actually seen him in real life; only meeting him one other time in the entirety of the six years he’s been your dad’s best friend. But with no other family and no extra cash to pay for a tow…you prayed that maybe he’d find it in the kindness of his heart to come rescue little ole you.

Thankfully, your dad had given you his number in a “just in case”, if you ever needed it. Strange how for once your dad was right about something you had swore up and down would never happen. It almost made you smile— and you would if not given the predicament you were in right now.

For a moment, as you sit in your car, with your thumb slightly trembling as it hovers over Joel’s contact name, you silently pray that he’d pick up when a stranger was calling.

No more time to talk yourself out of it, you press on his name, watching your phone begin to ring at your request. You quickly tap the speaker button, hands clammy as you listen to the dial ring. Your heart is pounding in your chest for some odd reason as the line continues to ring and ring.

You’re just about to give up hope and hang up, so his voicemail doesn’t pick up for you instead, but suddenly you hear the line click and a deep southern voice echoes in from the otherside; “Yeah?”

You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath until you suddenly exhale a deep sigh upon hearing his voice. “Hey!” You blurt out. “You probably don’t have my number saved or anything like that but I’m the daughter of your friend!”

“Oh,” Joel starts and you can hear him rustling around, as if he’s putting down something he had been working on. “I remember ya. Somethin’ I can help you with sweetheart?” His voice drips with honey and confusion and you can’t blame him. But the tender way he mutters sweetheart has your fingers trembling just that much more.

“Yes, actually! I’m a little stranded at the moment. See my dad’s outta town for a business trip and my car has broken down so yeah…” You trail off, fiddling with the edge of your phone case while the words ‘I could use some help’ stick to the back of your throat.

“You need me to come get ya?” Joel’s warm voice breaks the silence, knowing exactly what you couldn’t say seconds before.

“I mean, that would be awesome if you could! But like, don’t worry about it if you’re busy! I could call a tow truck or something.” You ramble on. And for a second you think maybe you’ve lost service as he doesn’t say anything right away but as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking; he answers you.

“What road ya on?” Joel asks all soft like, while you can hear some more rustling in the background.

You glance at the maps on your phone before telling him the road you were on, fingers returning to fiddle with your phone case. “But like again, if you’re too far or busy I can just call a tow!” You mutter as the pit of your stomach does backflips. You’d really hate to inconvenience him but at the same time…with your father gone…and being in seemingly the middle of nowhere…you’d take your chances of annoying him just a little.

Joel laughs on the other end and it sends a warmth that rivals the summer heat through your entire body. You catch the faint sound of keys jingling on his end before he responds. “No worries hun. I’ll be there in twenty minutes or so.”

And with that, Joel says his goodbye and the call ends.

“That went…surprisingly well.” You mutter to yourself as you stretch out along your driver seat. Might as well get comfy while you wait.

Just as promised, Joel shows up about twenty-five minutes later. He parks an older farm truck right behind you that squeaks as the door opens with his exit. You get out of your own car to greet him and you hate how your stomach returns to doing flips but for an entirely different reason.

Why couldn’t you remember him being so fucking handsome before? His tan skin, the salt and pepper of his hair, the stubble of his jaw. He was broad to say the least; his shoulders and chest wide, and he carried himself like a man in charge. You expect a man as toned and well muscled to be a little mean…but then he smiles upon seeing you and all your fears melt away.

“Howdy,” Joel calls, nice and easy like the breeze, making his way to you.

You simply nod your head in response, unable to find the words to speak, as he stops in front of you. Your eyes lift just ever so slightly to look up into his eyes and fuck, they had no right to be so pretty shining in the sun like that.

“Pop the hood for me? Let me see if these old hands can’t figure out what’s gotcha parked here.” Joel light heartedly says. And for some odd reason…you knew that if he asked you for anything in that sweet drawl of his, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

You ease back into the driver seat of your car, reaching for the little latch that would pop the hood open. At the click, Joel moves to the front of your car while you debate sitting there, waiting to be told what to do. In the end your curiosity gets the better of you as you exit your car again. You move to the front end alongside him, staring at a mass of smooth and twisted metal underneath…not understanding a single thing as you look down at it.

Joel must see the confusion in your gaze and it makes him laugh just a little. “S’aright hun. You ain’t gotta worry about tryin’ to figure it out.” He hums as his hand reaches forward, twisting off a cap you don’t know the name of. “Unless you wanna?” He teases as he retrieves a long, metal like wand from the depths of the engine.

You laugh along with him, shaking your head at his question. “No thank you. Maybe next time.” You respond in a light tune, continuing to watch him as he works.

But you can’t help staring at something other than the engine he works on.

Your eyes graze over the strength of his tan forearms. Noticing right away the scars that linger along his weathered skin. But what you really wanted to see was the muscle of his bicep— hidden underneath that damn teasing denim shirt of his. Wanted so desperately to watch him stretch and his muscles flex as he moved about while working on your car.

Your eyes trail down the rest of his body, where your attention is immediately drawn to his back. Your eyes fixate directly at the point of where his shirt meets his jeans, watching as his shirt lifts with every stretch he makes across the engine. It lifts just enough away from his jeans to allow you to see a little bit of exposed skin underneath it. His sun-kissed skin trailed all the way down his back and the idea of touching his warm body made your fingers twitch.

“Well your oil is fine but it seems like your radiator cap is split.” Joel says. His words immediately pull you from your thoughts and you jump a little; startled as if maybe Joel could hear exactly what you were thinking…thankfully, he couldn’t.

“Not good, I’m assuming?” You ask with a clear of your throat, desperately hoping your thoughts would return to normal with it.

Joel chuckles a little and shakes his head as he leans back and away from your engine. He wipes his hands across his jeans and you've never thought about how sexy a man could look dirty and disheveled like Joel does right then and there.

“No good ‘til ya get it fixed at least.” Joel hums and gestures for you to step back just a little, before he lets your car hood slam shut to lock it. “It’ll keep overheating like it is now but…” Joel trails off until he comes to stand in front of you— and you swear he’s close enough that he can hear how hard your heart is beating inside your ribcage. “If you keep it slow, ya could follow me back home. I might be able to fix it long enough for ya to get back to your place.”

You swallow a lump in your throat and nod to his solution, you weren’t coming up with anything better anyway. Plus, it got you a little more time with him. Little weird that you wanted to spend more time with a ‘stranger’ twice your age— who you just thought about touching in a…not so friendly way— but you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get to know him just a little better.

“Yeah, that sounds fine. Thank you so much.” You respond with a smile.

Joel smiles right back at you before one of his large hands reaches out and grabs your shoulder, giving you a squeeze. “Don’t worry ‘bout it sweetheart.” He says in a light tone, hand sliding just a little inwards along your skin; where he gently rubs a circle into the back of your neck, ever so slightly, before he snatches his hand away. Moving on like nothing happened. As if…his intrusive thoughts had won him over for a split second, before he turns on his heel to open the driver door for you.

Your entire body hums with a newfound feeling you’re not quite sure what to call yet. You float into the driver’s seat, putting your seatbelt on, while Joel motions for you to roll your windows down and you do; rolling all four of them down in somewhat of a panic after misclicking the first time in your jittery state.

Joel settles onto the ledge of your window, up close and personal enough that you could see the scars on his face.

Oh how you wished his eyes would look at your lips and give you a reason to kiss him, right then and there. And god did he look good leaning over to you like that too; like he wanted it just as badly as you suddenly did.

“‘Member, slow and steady,” He breathes and you can almost feel the flutter of his breath across your cheek. “If you see this needle get close or even above this red line right here, pull over and turn the car off a'ight?” He adds, pointing to a needle on your dash.

You nod slightly, fingers twitching at the thought of breaking down in an even worse spot than you already were. And Joel sees that little flicker of worry cross your face before you can hide it and he chuckles.

“Don’t worry yer’little head off, darlin’. I’ll lead. Be just right in front of ya, and all ya gotta do is follow me, okay?” He hums, tapping the edge of your window with every word, before he pushes himself upright and makes his way back to his truck.

You watch as he leaves you, getting up into the driver seat of his own truck without another word. And suddenly you’re gripping the steering wheel for dear life.

What were you doing? What were you thinking? Nothing appropriate to say the least. Images of him muttering that sweet nickname against your lips plays in the back of your mind like a damn movie. You definitely were reading too much into his body language and the way he rolled that darling off his tongue….he was just being nice and helping out a friend's daughter…that was it. You needed to focus.

You let out a shaky breath, you once again had no idea you were holding, gaze shifting to watch his truck pull off into the road and you pull your car into follow suit behind him. Traveling slowly like he had told you to do so, eyes darting between the back of his pickup truck and your dashboard; watching that little needle he had pointed out to you for any kind of changes.

After all of this, you’d definitely have to repay him somehow. Would have to ask him what you could do to return the favor of him coming to the rescue of a stranger. Could buy him dinner? That wouldn’t be too much money outside of your budget. Or buy him some beer or whiskey as thanks; he definitely looked like he enjoyed a good alcohol here and there.

Then a terrible, terrible, idea pops into your head. It was certainly a gamble; he was older, a friend of your dad’s, and probably did not see you in that light at all…but…it was a risk worth taking.

Besides, you could always flee Texas and never come back if things went really badly.

When the two of you managed to finally arrive at his home, without your car breaking down again along the way, thankfully, you half expected him to live in something…strange to say the least. He was a man you didn’t know, a stranger to you as much as you were to him, and showing up to his house was more than a little odd.

But as you pull up into the long driveway behind him, you realize exactly why your dad was friends with him. He lived relatively secluded, no neighbors, in a gorgeous two-story farmhouse. A large barn sits at the edge of a fence line and beyond is just a beautiful field accompanied by a handful of animals; cows, sheep, and a couple of horses lazing about. You sit in awe for just a moment, taking in the scenery before you, until the brake lights of Joel’s truck flash you back to reality and you come to a full stop behind him.

Such a big house for one man…or so you had hoped for. Suddenly you remember your father mentioning Joel’s daughter…would she be here too? What kind of person would you be contemplating…”payment” for Joel around his daughter? Shame settles in your stomach but you smother the feeling as you watch Joel slide out of his truck once more. He motions for you to pull around him and into his garage at the side of the house and do as he says.

As soon as you shut the car off and go to open your door, Joel is already there at your side. A small, welcoming smile is settled on his face as he holds your driver side door open for you.

You utter a small thanks before stepping out of your car. You don’t have a moment to really look at everything inside his garage before Joel is heading towards a door you assume leads to the inside of his house.

“Let’s go inside for a moment. Grab a drink and cool off and then figure out what’s goin’ on.” He hums as his hand settles on the doorknob.

You nod, quickly catching up to him. Your heart pounds inside your ribcage again but you swear it’s going to explode when Joel swings the door inwards, allowing you into his home, but it’s the hover of his hand along your back that causes your heart to pump three times as hard. Tingles seep into every inch of your body but his hand is warm and strong as it just barely touches your back.

Like he’s just trying to be helpful, that’s what he’s telling himself, but he’s tempted by other thoughts— where he wants to lay the full weight of his hand along your back and guide you to wherever he may want you.

But just as quickly as it comes, it goes. Like an afterthought that never happened.

You move into his home, gaze shifting over the layout of the kitchen you step into. From just a brief glance, you can tell the inside of his house was just as gorgeous as the outside was. Simple, a little vintage, but definitely something you could see a man like Joel living in.

“Can I get’cha a drink?” Joel asks as he walks up to his fridge, opening it with an easy throw. “There’s some juice. Or if you prefer, I have diet soda. Sarah says it’s better for my health.” He jokes as he rummages inside the cool fridge. You could practically hear his eyes rolling and it settles the tension in your shoulders.

“Some water will be fine,” You hum in response, standing awkwardly beside the kitchen island, your fingers running along the counter. “How is Sarah, by the way?” You ask as your eyes settle onto a nearby picture frame of Joel and his daughter. “I’ve only heard about her in passing from my dad…when he was talking about you.”

“Oh?” Joel chuckles somewhere behind you. “I hope only the good things are told.”

You smile at his words, stopping at the edge of the kitchen island.

Not prepared in the slightest as the tips of his fingers press into the back of your arm; causing you to jump at his touch and swivel on your heel to face him. And he’s close…closer than before. If you moved in anyway, you’re sure your chest would run right into his own.

Your breath catches in your throat and you drag your gaze up into his. You freeze in the spot, waiting for something…anything to happen. Waiting for him to make a move, either away from you or to sweep you into his embrace but he does neither; he freezes just as much as you do. Tension swirls around the room like a hot summer’s wind, brewing up a storm, making everything just a little too sticky and your palms sweaty.

But just like a tornado, the tension comes and goes, leaving everything in place except for the feeling of ‘holy shit’.

“Your water, sweetheart.” Joel finally mutters, taking his slight step back and offering you up the water he had fetched out, breaking the tension that had built up seconds ago.

You take the glass of water out of his hand with a slight tremble to your fingers but you hold it nonetheless, continuing to stand still as he pulls away. He clears his throat as he retreats, putting space between the two of you once more.

“But yeah, um, Sarah’s good. Married, no kids yet but maybe one day.” Joel says through another clear of his throat, trying to will away whatever that feeling of “holy shit” was from before. He turns away from you once more, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck.

And from your position, you can see the tips of his ears flushed a soft red. It makes you shudder at the thought of him blushing around you like some lovesick man.

You take a sip of your water and it tastes stale compared to the want you have for the older man. You clear your own throat to try and refocus, nodding to his statement about his daughter.

At least it was somewhat comforting to know that, after what just happened, his daughter wasn’t going to come racing through the front door and watch her dad hit on someone younger or the same age as her.

“And no Mrs. Miller?” You blurt out before you can even think about what you’re saying. Certainly pushing the boundaries now. Your dad had never spoken about Joel having a wife before but it never hurt to ask…especially after what just happened. “Sorry that’s inappropriate, right?” You embarrassingly mutter, even if it was the right thing to ask after the two of you just got done dry humping each other with your eyes.

Joel chuckles slightly at your question, shaking his head as he eases back into ‘mr. calm and collected’. “S’alright. But yes, once. A long time ago. I’ve been divorced ever since.” He responds but says nothing more as he sets down his own preferred drink on the counter. “It’s just lil ole me and Sarah.” Joel adds; letting you in on his quiet life just a little more.

You want to tell him how much you’re glad it’s just him. How you’ve been wanting just him since he stepped out of his truck back on the road.

“And you? No partner waitin’ at home for ya?” Joel asks quietly, as if he’s unsure if he really should be asking the question or not; but curiosity is getting the better of the old man.

You laugh a little at his question, an easy smile sitting on your lips. “Nope. Suppose I wouldn’t be here if I did.”

“Hmm,” Joel ponders. “Suppose not. But I doubt you’d wanna be stuck here with an old man like me if ya didn’t have to.”

“Good thing you don’t know me too well then,” You chime, tucking a few strands of loose hair behind your ear, glancing away from him as you ramble on about how much you are actually happy to be there, with him.

When you lift your eyes back to him, you stare right into his warm gaze. “I’m…enjoying this.” You admit finally with a shaky exhale. And if this wasn’t the moment that would set the nail into the head of: “do I need to flee the state or is this okay?” then you weren’t sure when it would happen.

Joel’s eyes crinkle just ever so slightly and so quickly, that for a second you think you've almost imagined it. And you can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. He nods just a little, as if he’s almost speechless, clearing his throat to once again shake off the tension that has built up.

Returning back to reality, he takes a sip off his drink and settles against one of the many kitchen cabinets, swirling the liquid around in his glass. “So, your dad didn’t teach you anything about cars?”

You laugh, shaking your head as you join him in leaning against the island counter. “You’re surprised? He doesn’t know a damn thing about them either.” You huff softly.

“Mmm, true. I had to show him how to change a tire once.” Joel responds playfully, glancing in your direction.

“See!” You chuckle again, fiddling with the cup between your fingers. “Guess that’s why he told me to call you if I ever needed anything.”

That warm, fuzzy feeling floats over your entire body again; weighs on you like a thick blanket while Joel falls silent for a second.

God, how you wished you could hear what was going on in that head of his.

Before he answers, he shoots back all of the dark liquor in his glass, needing it for whatever else may go on that day. “He was right. Call me for anything, ya may need sweetheart.” Joel whispers, low and slow, sending a cool spike down your spine.

You suck in a quiet breath while his words stick to you— like your thighs would stick to a leather seat after sitting down for too long. Your pulse throbs in your throat. Was he just confirming what your dad had told you to do; to call him whenever you may need it? Or were you reading too much into it all…just because your feelings for him were running a little too wild?

“So, thought ya didn’t live in Texas any more? Some fancy school or job, your dad mentioned one time or ‘nother.” Joel breaks through the silence you had left in the open, bringing you back to the moment with him.

You take another sip off your water before giving him a small nod. “Yep. Just came back to visit him. Bein’ a good daughter and all.”

“Hmm, a good daughter…” Joel mutters to himself and if you two weren’t so close, you probably wouldn’t have heard him. You can’t help but think what he could mean by that but you’re not going to bring it up…yet.

“Anyway, I’m only here for a few weeks, and of course on my vacation my car decides to break down. Just my luck huh,” You sigh. “And my budget doesn’t allow for car troubles so I’m really hoping you can fix it.”

“Budget?” Joel hums, glancing down at his empty glass, most likely debating to get another drink or not. “And you were gonna call a tow truck on a budget?” Joel says with that teasing tone of his.

“Well…yeah, I guess if I had to.” You respond with a shrug, smiling over at him.

Joel chuckles, his gaze casted into the depths of his glass as he fiddles with the cup while he speaks. “No doubt you could swindle your way outta some trouble if ya had to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You tease right back, taking the chance to inch closer to him.

Joel clears his throat, as if he hadn’t expected to say what he said in the first place and just got caught. Now he was struggling to come up with the words to justify exactly why he said what he said. “Uh, well ya know,” Joel starts, stopping in his search at the bottom of his glass, his summer gaze returning to look over at you. His eyes tenderly move along your body; following every curve and dip as if it were his fingers trailing your skin instead. It feels like an eternity, him just looking at you, but in reality it probably only lasts for a second too long. “Lookin’ all pretty like that. Just sayin’ you could get away with anything if ya wanted to hun.” He says, all hushed and soft.

A storm was absolutely brewing now and suddenly you’re glad to have worn that summer floral dress you had bought ages ago.

You wait for a heartbeat, his gaze still licking flames across your body, before you reach out to him with a gentle but firm hand. You press your fingers into his exposed forearm, making a little circle against his tan skin to mimic him from earlier.

And for some reason, you were far bolder than you had ever been in your life as you took another step closer to the older man, skimming your fingers further along his skin, batting pretty eyelashes in his direction.

“Anything?” You whisper, just loud enough for him and only him to hear. Didn’t matter if no one else was home, you wanted to make sure it was for him.

It was a good sign when he didn’t immediately jerk away or start yelling for you to get out. His breath catches in his throat this time and you watch as his chest begins to rise and fall as you stand dangerously close to him. Standing in the shadow of his frame, being almost swallowed up as he towers over you.

“Darlin’” Joel finally utters, glancing down his nose at you, his fingers twitching at his sides; as if he’s trying to hold himself back from embracing you. “You know that’s not a good idea.”

You shrug a little, pushing your fingers just underneath the curl of his shirt sleeve, touching the very beginning to the thick of his bicep. “Why not? It’s just us.”

“You know why,” Joel protests softly. “I’m twice your age. And I’m your father’s friend.”

“And yet…you’re not moving away,” You whisper, making it a point to squeeze his bicep. Your eyes trail from his gaze to the plump of his lips, lingering just long enough for him to notice, before you glance all the way back up to his eyes. “Let me repay you for coming to my rescue.”

He doesn’t speak, having been caught and now his argument was quickly crumbling into almost nothing.

To give him a little encouragement, your fingers trail back down to his wrist and you guide his hand to the edge of your skirt, pushing his fingers just slightly under your dress and against the thick of your thigh. “C’mon…Joel.” You hum his name all sweet like honey and it finally breaks him.

“Fuck,” Joel curses under his breath as he sweeps you up. The hand on your thigh opens up and curls around you, dragging you into the front of his chest. His other hand settles against the curve of your neck as he comes crashing down onto you like a wave.

He presses his lips into yours in a hot and heavy kiss. His tongue is already darting along the thick of your bottom lip– desperate and needy— just like you’ve been since the second you saw him bent over your car.

“Dammit, you…” Joel pants against your lips. “I was tryin’ so hard…” He groans, lifting your hips into his own with his single hand. “You and that damn dress and the way you stare at me, Christ.” Joel fumbles, shifting his hand along your body. His hand grabbing your ass in a tight grip, his calm and collected self long, long gone now. He squeezes your ass, eating up the moan that tumbles from your lips into his. “Wanna hear that pretty little voice callin’ my damn name s’more.”

“Joel.” You breathe his name and it makes him groan again. It’s deep and raspy, sends a vibration to the very tips of your fingers.

His knee bumps into yours, knocking your legs to part to allow him space between your thighs. The flat of his thigh presses right into the spot where you’re quickly coming to yearn for him. You grind into the thick of his thigh, mewling into the softness of his mouth. You were already far too needy, dripping through your underwear and smearing against his jeans.

Joel groans at the increasing wetness slicking his thigh and his fingers grip just a little harder along your skin. His teeth grab hold of your bottom lip, gently pulling on the plumpness, before his tongue is replacing his teeth with a wet swipe.

“Taste s’good sweetheart.” He whispers with a chuckle. “Been wantin’ this all damn day.”

You shudder at his words— at least it was comforting to know that since he showed up in the middle of nowhere to save you; you weren’t the only one looking at him in a new light.

You needed more than just a little dry humping and hot make out session to be satisfied though— especially concerning the risk of…everything. Your fingers once gripping onto the thick of his biceps trail down to the front of his pants, fiddling with his belt.

But his own hand quickly grabs your wrist the second you attempt to undo his belt.

Startled, Joel breaks the kiss, panting roughly while his gaze settles onto your flushed face. “We shouldn’t.” Joel mumbles, shaking his head just a little. Trying to talk the both of you out of doing something that could potentially ruin a lot of things. Kissing could be excused but anything else after was not so easily explained or forgiven. “I shouldn’t. You shouldn’t…not with an old man like me.” Joel counters through clenched teeth.

“Joel,” You softly utter his name like a prayer. “I want you so fucking bad right now, I don’t care. And I know it’s not just me.”

“This is a bad idea…” Joel groans as he stares down at you; his composure slowly coming undone once again as his grip around your wrist is slowly loosening up.

Funny how you had told yourself that exact same thing too. But now you really didn’t care; no obstacle could get in your way when your cunt was throbbing his name. “Slow and steady…” You whisper his earlier words back to him. “You lead, remember? I’ll do what you say Joel…”

Joel hesitates, clearly battling his inner thoughts. He could have you, right then and there– in all his desperation, need, and desire pent up for you. But he was your dad’s friend and if he ever found out…it would end far too many good relationships.

“Just…a little more.” Joel finally huffs, crumbling like sand as his lips return back to yours in a last-ditch effort to calm all of his worrying thoughts. And it helps when you melt right back into the kiss.

Your fingers return to fidgeting with his belt buckle, trying to strip him as quickly as you possibly could just in case he changed his mind. Your hips moving faster, grinding heavier against his thigh. His name tastes sweet as it rolls off your tongue as you manage to undo that damned buckle. Your fingers work wonder’s undoing the rest of his jeans. Fingers flicking the button open and the zipper comes down with just a small tug of his jeans. But your fingers don’t stop in the slightest as they seek out what you’re really after.

Joel helps ever so slightly, shimming his jeans down to his thighs, giving you the room to shove his underwear down and finally set him free.

You immediately wrap a hand around his hardened shaft. Fingers brushing up along to the very tip and you tremble at how wet he is. Leaking across the flat of your thumb with just a single touch.

Joel deeply groans, breaking the kiss again and glancing down to watch your hand stroke him. Cursing himself inside his mind for being so pathetic and hard with just a little bit of touching and a few kisses— acting as if he was a fresh twenty year old about to get laid for the first time, all over again.

“Just a little…” Joel whispers, mostly to himself, continuing to try and convince himself that it was all going to be alright if it was just a little at a time.

Your hand continues to sweep across the entire curve of his throbbing cock, squirming a little under his watchful gaze.

“Joel,” You whine his name, grinding harshly into his thigh again. You were soaking now; smearing across his jeans, leaving behind a desperate trail of need.

“S’alright baby, I gotcha,” Joel responds softly, picking up your needy little tone. His fingers slip from beneath your dress, just to grab the hem of the fabric, yanking the skirt up high. You scramble with your free hand to grab your dress, keeping it up high for him so his own fingers can work on pleasing you.

Thick digits slide down against the seam of your soaked panties and above the pleasure ringing in your ears, you can hear Joel chuckle at your apparent neediness.

“Fuckin’ soaked baby,” Joel hums, swiping his fingers against your core once more. “This wet for an old man like me?” He adds before he yanks your underwear to the side.

Calloused fingers travel through your slick folds, his fingers circling around the sensitive nub. Joel chuckles again at the whine that you try to hold back before he’s pressing a thick digit inside your velvet walls.

You gasp his name, quick and harsh as he begins to thrust into the slickness of your cunt. Your hand moves faster along his shaft, trying to keep up with his pace as he fingers you. Your legs open just a little wider on instinct, allowing him more space between.

His fingers plummet into the seam of your cunt, rapid and a little sloppy but it gets the job done more than effectively. The lewd noises echoing inside the room from the slick of his fingers pumping in and out of you, normally would leave you an embarrassed mess but with a single curl of his finger, those thoughts immediately are swept away.

His pace quickens and before you have time to react, he’s adding a second finger into the depths of your pussy; stretching you out, guiding you to a close, burning ledge.

“Shit, Joel!” You sob, open mouth, tears flicking to the corners of your eyes. Your hand stutters but Joel doesn’t mind, his hips thrust forward, grinding the full weight of himself into your grasp.

Even in your haze you manage to shift your hand to point him directly where his fingers disappear inside your seam. “Want you right here, Joel, please. Please, I need it.” You cry, nudging the tip of his cock into your clit.

Joel growls, deep from within his chest, like a wild animal claiming its prey. His hips stutter just a little, pressing heavier into your clit. But he shakes his head, gritting his teeth.

“No. No, that’s…off limits,” He groans even as he continues to nudge his head into your cunt.

“Joel,” You whine but Joel shakes his head, curling his fingers inside to send a strike of lightning along your spine.

“No. Not this time baby,” Joel coos in a soft, luring voice. Trying to tell himself more than he was warning you.

“Just, ah, the tip then please, please.” You whine, clenching around his fingers still stuffing inside your core. “Please. Just wanna feel you, just enough.” You pathetically beg. His fingers weren’t enough, even just a little bit of his thick head pressing inside you would solve all your problems.

It’s Joel’s turn to softly whimper after you speak. “The tip,” He repeats, tasting your words on his tongue. “Just the tip.” He says again, finally deciding that just a little bit more was enough. His thick fingers slip out from your inner walls and you feel empty without him. As if your body had been made to fit just him and him alone; and with how fast your head was spinning, you didn’t doubt it for a second.

You nod frantically as he accepts just using the tip of his head. You grab hold of his shoulder and squeeze it tight, preparing for what comes next.

Joel takes his hand covered in your slick and wraps it around the base of his shaft. His fingers tangle and nudge against yours; and together you move over his entire cock, coating all of him in the remaining wetness on his fingers.

He takes a smaller step into you, close enough to smother you entirely. He slots himself right into the slit of your cunt, dragging every inch of his shaft through your soaking wet folds.

You shiver as he drags himself against you, gripping his shoulder just a little tighter as a mind numbing wave of pleasure races through you. You angle your head ever so slightly to kiss up along his neck, panting against his skin with every kiss you try to place.

“Fuck…you’re droolin’ all over me sweetheart.” Joel groans, thrusting his hips forward again. He stares where the two of you connect, pupils blown and mouth slightly agape as he watches with awe how he disappears between you. The hand not guiding his cock against you hooks around the crook of your knee, bringing your hips into his. Joel opens your legs and in one fell swoop he slips inside your sloppy seam; and as promised, just the tip.

When he presses the tip finally inside of you, it knocks the breath out of your lungs. You gasp for air, digging your nails into the thick of his shoulder. His name bubbles up into your throat but it never leaves your lips. Your thighs tremble just as much as your bottom lip does with his entrance into your aching cunt.

Joel’s grip on your knee is sure to leave bruises but god if he asked, you’d tattoo them on your body. To remind him, and only him, that you belonged to him.

His entire body shakes as he forces himself to remain totally still. He grunts through clenched teeth as he wills himself not to move further inside you; no matter how badly he wants to slam his hips forward with the way you suck so eagerly on just his tip— he refuses to do so. And it takes every ounce of his willpower not to thrust forward.

“Fuck,” Joel growls under his breath. “‘S tight. You’re so tight, baby.” He adds with a slight whimper to his voice, eyes still heavily staring where the two of you connect. Hips sliding back, dragging the length of his cock out, before digging forward again.

You don’t answer, can’t answer; all you can think of is how fucking good he’s making you feel, even with just the tip.

When he finally sets a good pace, his thrusts are sharp but shallow and not near enough to truly satisfy every inch of your needy core but you’ll take it…until next time. Next time, he’s fucking you into the goddamn mattress until you pass out.

You try your best to move your hips in sync with his shallow thrusts but Joel quickly shuts that down with his hand moving to grip your hip. When you manage to look up at him, he just weakly shakes his head a little.

“No.” He mutters, sweat dripping off the high of his eyebrow. “If you move like that I’ll want more than this…” He admits with a flutter to his eyes.

You groan but nod nonetheless. “Next time.” You huff with a hoarse voice.

Joel chuckles a little and nods right back at you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Next time.” He mimics before returning to dig into your core. Your dress bunches under his grasp and he uses it just a little bit to keep himself grounded and you from moving.

Your body is raging like a storm beneath your skin with how quick your orgasm is rising to greet you. And you’re almost sure if he fully pressed his cock into every inch of your sensitive pussy right then and there, you’d make the worst mess. You’d soak your dress and every inch of his jeans and boots. And while you want him so badly all the way, deep inside, kissing your womb– you’re a little thankful he wasn’t. Didn’t want to embarrass yourself too badly, this time anyway.

“Joel,” You utter, stars blossoming across your vision with your impending orgasm burning inside your lower tummy.

“Shh, I know darlin’.” Joel hums back. He doesn’t have to say anything about his own orgasm with the way his cockhead is beginning to swell inside of you.

For a split second you almost want to beg him to cum inside, wanting to feel him warm and deep inside every inch of your trembling walls but you could already guess what the answer to that was going to be, so you keep your lips sealed.

Your mind turns fuzzy as his shallow thrust turns chaotic and ruthless, stretching you with every drag. Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle and break but his strong hands hold you up anyway. He wanted you to finish, wanted to feel you clench and flutter around his tip while he considered turning you around, bending you over and really getting the chance to stretch you out.

“Baby girl,” Joel drawls, low and slow, pressing kiss after kiss into the crown of your head. His chest rises and falls with every rapid breath he sucks between his teeth. “Drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy…not gonna last. Want you to come for darlin’, all over my cock, can you do that baby?”

He doesn’t even have to ask twice. You can no longer find your voice to form any other word besides “please” as the heat of your womb blossoms. The warmth explodes through every inch of your body. Your back arches with your orgasm, hips stuttering and if it wasn’t for Joel’s big hand on your hip, you might have swallowed him entirely by accident. Your chest presses directly up into his and you can taste the tip of his name coating your tongue as you come all across his cockhead.

He waits until you’re entirely spent before he allows himself to come as well. He lets go of your hip, grabbing the thick of his base once more, and drags himself out of your tight cunt at the last second before he smears his mark across you.

White, hot spurts of cum splash against your cunt with every stroke of his hand. With a deep groan, he presses his tip into your clit, leaving his mark right up against the curve of your pussy. His hand quickly moves along his entire shaft, pushing out every last drop of his cum into the slit of your quivering pussy. Your name is whispered so softly in time with every jerk of his hand, it leaves you lightheaded and whimpering for Joel.

When he’s finished, his own damn head is spinning. He’s out of breath, staring at the mess he’s made with half lidded eyes. He swipes his thumb through the stain he’s made, chuckling quietly at how much sticks to your skin.

“Damn sweetheart,” Joel hums in approval, shivering at the sight of you covered in his mark. “You got so much outta me darlin’, like I’m fuckin’ in my twenties again.”

You’re slowly coming down from your high when he speaks but his words make you laugh alongside him. You were no better than he was; that was one of the best orgasms you’d ever had in your life. The pleasure still pounding inside your ears like a second heartbeat.

“Yeah? Imagine what it’ll be like next time.” You whisper, letting your full body weight fall back onto the kitchen counter he had previously backed you up into.

Joel quiets then, letting silence stretch between the two of you like a dry, humid summer. You can’t read his gaze and with the silence accompanying him, you’re not sure you want to read it anyway. But it’s gone quickly and he returns to that softness you’ve seen all day long.

“Next time?” Joel hums, threading his fingers through your sticky cunt. “Next time, you’re not even gonna be able to fuckin’ walk, sweetheart.”

@ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐙𝐄𝐕𝐑𝐑𝐀 | 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖/𝐎 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

@lowrisemiller

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tahbhie · 6 months ago

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Reasons Why 80% of Romantic Plots Fall Through.

Haven't you wondered why a romantic story you have so much hope for suddenly flops? Whether it's yours or not, let's see what could be the problem.

• Relying Too Much on the Outcome

Unfortunately, no romance is complete without an arc. In other words, it is more than just the intimacy. When writers don't allow the relationship to develop naturally, it feels forced. Rushing to the final romance without building a solid foundation will make the story feel shallow and unconvincing. Take your time, flesh out the idea, and follow the plot gradually.

• Creating Unnecessary Victimization

I often see writers make the mistake of portraying one character as too weak or pitiful only for the sake of it. This unnecessary victimization can undermine the character's depth and make the story less compelling. Your readers won't cry along with a female character whose decisions are pretty sour compared to a five-year-old. It's just simply annoying.

Instead, both characters should have strengths and weaknesses, make realistic decisions, making them more relatable and balanced.

• Cringy Conflict.

Realistic conflict is essential for a compelling romance. Over-the-top or contrived conflicts can make the story feel forced and cringy. Conflict should come naturally and blend perfectly into the plot. It's not advisable to pop a challenge that's definitely not necessary in the name of 'keeping the stakes high.'

Rather, focus on creating believable challenges that the characters must overcome, adding depth and authenticity to the plot.

• Neglecting Other Emotions Outside Romance.

It's not only about love, or roses, or dinner nights, or lucky dates with the billionaire. Show the other emotions fighting for dominance: the hurts, pains, joy, frustration, desperation, anger, sadness, jealousy, anxiety, or even moments when a character falls out of love with the other and can't understand their feelings.

Focusing solely on love can lead to a one-dimensional story. For a well-rounded narrative, explore these emotions to create a richer and more immersive experience for the readers.

• Underdeveloped Characters.

What's a story without a fully-fledged character, especially if they are the main character in a story?

You might have heard people talk about the importance of backstories and others saying too much of it tires them out, but here's the thing—balance. It's what people fail to incorporate. I'll try to cover this in any of my upcoming blog posts. Follow to keep up.

To better understand why we should cry for, laugh with, pity, admire, adore, scold, yell at, advocate for, and smile with your character, we need to know why they are what they are, who they are, and why they make the choices they make.

It's important to create characters with distinct personalities, backgrounds, and motivations. When readers care about the characters, they become more invested in the story and its outcome.

And that's my Christmas gift from me to you 🎁. Merry Christmas 🎄

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iridescentoracle · 1 year ago

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#i don’t know if it’s that this book is aro so much as that it’s not amatonormative #even when people are married their spouse isn’t the core of their story (usually) #as with the unfinished tales material - e.g. elrond stays in middle-earth rather than going to valinor with celebrian when she is injured #because caring about middle-earth and its people is ALSO important #galadriel goes to valinor because she needs that and celeborn stays in middle-earth at least for a time because he needs that #and that doesn’t mean they don’t love each other! (via warrioreowynofrohan)

It’s aro week, and even though I still don’t feel like I fully have a handle on what aromaticism is, I do get the impression that The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings fit well with it? because all the main character’s most important and most central relationships aren’t romantic ones.

Bilbo is considered odd (“queer”, even) in the Shire for being a lifelong bachelor; his close relationships are with dwarven and elven friends, and with his adopted son Frodo. Frodo shows no romantic interest in anyone; his close relationships are with Sam, Merry, Pippin, Gandalf, and later Aragorn. And the later relationship with Frodo, Sam, and Sam’s wife Rosie all living in Bag End - which is specifically proposed by Frodo - seems like it fits the definition of queerplatonic? Whether or not you see Legolas and Gimli as a couple, their closest relationship is clearly with each other. Merry and Pippin also seem pretty clearly the most important people in each others’ lives, and remain close withtheir friends in Rohan and Gondor even after returning to the Shire. Boromir’s almost canonically aroace, going by the appendices. The close friendships between Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli are prominent, while the Tale of Aragorn and Arwen is relegated to an appendix. Most members of the Fellowship (6/9) do not get married or ‘fall in love’ in any traditional sense (and of the remaining three, one - Pippin - is only noted briefly in an appendix). The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings both have the characters’ relationships with each other - and the importance of valuing and cherishing those, not possessions or power - at their heart, and almost all of those relationships are non-romantic ones.

#aromanticism #lotr #the lord of the rings #lotr meta #tbh op As An Aroace™ it sounds like you understand aromanticism & amatonormativity very well #and you're absolutely spot-on that LOTR/the legendarium as a whole is incredibly aromanticism/aspec-friendly #i've talked about it before but i knew i thought bilbo & frodo were aroace before i knew either of those were things someone could be #the whole story values platonic relationships so dearly #they're consistently valued by the characters and the narrative #just as much as the romances and more often than not *more*#romance is there but it's in the background. it's for when the story is over and the characters can go home #it's the friendships that are central to the plot #there's no end of reasons i return to LOTR over and over but this is at the heart of so many of them

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yunsound · 4 months ago

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Chinese Mythology- Ne Zha

In case you forgot, there’s a little (well, not-so-little) country in between Russia, India and the sea near Australia called China. She’s pretty well-known for being big, red, and old.

As well as other things, but that’s all pretty new and not what we’re talking about here, I draw the line at those topics.

China is like the grandma of most Asian countries within the Sinosphere (area of influence that spread Chinese culture through the Silk Road, Tang dynasty diplomats and ideologies like Confucianism and Taoism and occasionally Buddhism).

As such, Chinese mythology and lifestyle practices are very deeply rooted in cultural beliefs across Asian countries like Japan, South Korea, Malaysia, Singapore, and Vietnam.

This isn’t a post about the history of China. Well, it is, but the history of China is some 10,000 years of culture and 4000 years of recorded history, and I have neither the time nor the patience to go through all of it. To be quite honest, about 70% of it is irrelevant to even the lives of Chinese people.

What I’d like to talk about, instead, is some Chinese culture and mythology.

Many of you might have heard of the Journey to the West, or more specifically the Monkey King Sun Wukong. Undoubtedly he’s probably the number one IT boy in China, our biggest cultural icon and representative myth, and his name is synonymous with power, defiance, and badassery.

You may have seen him featured in the recent hit game, Black Myth: Wukong!

Much of Wukong’s story involves his various shenanigans in his attempt to go to the West and retrieve Buddhist sutras with the monk Xuanzang and several other eclectic and iconic characters. However, Wukong’s history is not as well-known. In fact, much of his early days were spent in constant battle with the Heavenly Court.

That is what I want to talk about: the Heavenly Court. Essentially China’s pantheon. Wukong is so well-known that I feel it’s unnecessary for me to add any more commentary beyond woah, he is so cool, and other people probably have made enough content about him that anything I could add would be 画蛇添足 or paint feet on a snake (a Chinese idiom that means to stop adding useless details that don’t make any sense or serve any purpose).

Regardless.

China, beyond just Wukong, has an enormous selection of mythology involving gods, spirits and immortals as well as their battles against demons and monsters. These stories aren’t as well-known outside China but also feature prominently in what makes up the Chinese mindset. Having said that, here’s my attempt to inspire someone to make a Dragon Ball equivalent that doesn’t feature Wukong.

___

I figured now would be as good a time as any to start with 哪吒三太子，or the Third Prince Ne Zha, since recently the Ne Zha 2 has smashed some records and brought the myth of Ne Zha into more prominence.

By the way, go watch this movie! I'll gush about this later, but it's super good.

As with most everything in Chinese history and mythology: overly-long exposition and background is always needed. In the 16th century, two dudes got together and decided to record the fall of the Shang Dynasty and the rise of the Zhou Dynasty in a novel. Being dramatic, they romanticized the historical tale and added a lot of pizzazz, including spirits, monsters, and gods. This tale is now referred to as 封神演义,or 封神榜: The Romance of the Inauguration of the Gods, or more commonly translated as Investiture of the Gods.

This story serves as the basis for much of Chinese mythology and storytelling. Think of the Iliad or the Odyssey.

Ne Zha is a character in Investiture of the Gods. He’s not a key character in the main plot, which centers around King Zhou of Shang (who ironically rules over the Shang Dynasty and not the Zhou Dynasty, which uses a different Zhou pronounced differently in Chinese). However, he’s probably more famous than King Zhou is, just because he’s so fun, and also he’s featured very prominently in many of the stories we tell kids.

According to the Investiture of the Gods, Ne Zha was born during the Shang Dynasty under the rule of King Zhou. He eventually becomes part of the rebel faction that overthrows King Zhou of Shang and establishes the Zhou Dynasty. For now, though, he is just a kid. His homeland is called Chentang Pass.

In fact, Ne Zha was born with hacks. He’s the incarnation of the 灵珠子, or the Spiritual Pearl, a ball of condensed spiritual energy. As such, he’s pretty OP from birth.

He has two older brothers who are already immortals, called Jin Zha (which means Gold… Zha) and Mu Zha (which means Wood Zha) and his parents wanted five sons named Gold, Wood, Water, Fire and Earth, representing the five elements, with Zha as a suffix.

However, in popular culture, it’s known that Ne Zha, originally Fire, absorbed his brothers Water and Earth in the womb. Because of this, his mother, Lady Yin, is pregnant with him for over three years- which really sucks. When he’s born, he manifests as what looks like a big meatball.

His father, Li Jing, who’s a very high-ranking military general, freaks out and tries to stab him, but he pops out of the meatball as a fully-formed child, and is bestowed the name Ne Zha, literally: That Zha, since he’s three Zha-s in one. Kind of funny.

Ne Zha, since he’s OP, could talk and walk from birth and skipped the baby stage and went right to infant. He was taken as the disciple of 太乙真人, or Realized One of Yin and Yang. We’ll call him Master Taiyi for simplicity. He gets two cool weapons: 混天绫, the Skyblinding Sash, or a sentient moving red ribbon similar to Doctor Strange’s red cape, and 乾坤圈, the Ring of Heaven and Earth, a gold size-changing ring.

Ne Zha is still a human kid, despite being super OP, so when he’s little he asks his mom if he can go out of Chentang Pass to play. She’s like, sure! What’s the worst that can happen!

Oh boy.

Ne Zha wanders for a bit, then decides to take a bath in a river and uses the Skyblinding Sash as a towel. Basically the equivalent of using a tactical nuke to squish an ant. This powerful weapon being used as a towel sends so much energy through the stream that it literally reaches all the way to the East China Sea.

The Dragon King of the East China Sea is called Ao Guang, and he’s also got three sons. In the most well-known Ne Zha movie from 1979, he looks like this:

Ao Guang is like, what the fuck? He sends a yaksha, a mischievous water spirit, to check things out (no, not the yaksha you're thinking of.)

Ne Zha basically makes the ancient Chinese equivalent of a your mom joke to the yaksha, who gets super offended and tries to fight him. Then the yaksha gets his ass thoroughly kicked by a seven-year-old, who uses the Ring of Heaven and Earth to basically bash his head in. Yikes.

Ao Guang’s soldiers report this to him, and he’s very troubled by his lackey’s violent end at the hands of China’s worst iPad kid. Ao Bing, who is Ao Guang’s third son, volunteers to go beat up this seven-year-old kid, and is like, I’m the mighty third dragon prince of the East China Sea, there’s no way this toddler can beat me!

Not only does Ne Zha beat Ao Bing, he beats him so badly that he ends up pulling Ao Bing’s tendons out to make a belt for his dad Li Jing. Ao Bing probably died a staunch advocate for birth control. Ne Zha maybe needs some therapy.

Regardless, when Ao Guang hears his precious baby son has been killed rather painfully, he freaks out and goes to complain to Li Jing. Ne Zha is like, oops I killed your son, he was weak anyway, maybe you should train your next kid to be less pathetic, and Ao Guang is like you son of a bitch I’m reporting you to the Jade Emperor!

The Jade Emperor, by the way, is the leader of the Heavenly Court. In Chinese mythology, unlike many religions, being a god doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a good or virtuous person, it just means you got a promotion. Essentially it’s like being a government worker.

There is sometimes discussion on whether the Emperor in the myth is the Heavenly Emperor or the Jade Emperor. They're usually considered different people, with the Jade Emperor being an underling of the Heavenly Emperor, but the exact details get foggy. For the purposes of storytelling, I will assume the Emperor in this story is the Jade Emperor.

Ne Zha says, oh shit what do I do, and goes to his Master Taiyi for help. With an invisibility spell Master Taiyi gave him, he goes to Ao Guang’s house and kicks his ass.

Ao Guang, feeling thoroughly wronged, gathers the other three dragon kings of the North, South and West China Seas respectively and decides they’re going to sue Ne Zha and his family in front of the Jade Emperor.

Lady Yin, Ne Zha’s mom, tells him to chill the fuck out and sits him in their house’s backyard. Ne Zha, thoroughly bored, decides he’s going to do some archery practice with some fancy bows and arrows, which are all inscribed with their family name.

He uses the literal Emperor’s bow and arrow, which were stored there for safekeeping and were unliftable like Thor’s hammer or Excalibur, and casually shoots an arrow up into a cave and kills the disciple of a lady named 石矶娘娘 Lady Stone Spirit.

Lady Stone Spirit kidnaps Ne Zha’s dad after recognising the name on the arrow, and Li Jing is like, yo I’m nowhere strong enough to use that bow and arrow, let me go back home so I can find the true culprit.

Eventually they find out it’s Ne Zha, and Ne Zha flips on Lady Stone Spirit. Master Taiyi eventually kills Lady Stone Spirit for him after Ne Zha loses his weapons.

Master Taiyi then says, oops, remember Ao Guang, that dragon king you pissed off? Well, he’s back and he’s pissed, and he’s got the Jade Emperor on his side. Ao Guang vows he’ll take revenge for his son and his dignity on Chentang Pass and Ne Zha’s parents.

Li Jing, who’s a bit of a dick father, is royally pissed off at Ne Zha. He’s always been very strict on Ne Zha, and has never liked him much, and basically tells Ne Zha to go fuck himself. Ne Zha, who’s mischievous but responsible, decides he’s going to save his family.

In quite possibly the most gruesome children’s tale you’ve ever heard, in order to pay his parents back for birthing him, he cuts all the flesh off his own bones and then cuts his own bones up as penance and to satisfy the dragon king’s wrath. Metal.

Excuse this blurry image- it's hard to find the exact scene in 4k.

Ne Zha’s wandering spirit tells his grieving mother to build him a temple and try to get him a new body, so she does. The temple goes viral, and Li Jing finds out and smashes everything. Ne Zha is like, what the fuck was that for? Now father and son properly hate each other.

Master Taiyi, this story’s MVP, builds Ne Zha a new body out of lotus roots, and he is reborn in a lotus flower. That’s why he’s sometimes called Ne Zha the lotus prince, and why he’s commonly associated with lotus flowers and lotus roots.

Master Taiyi gives him two new weapons: the 火尖枪, Fire-tipped Spear, a spear that shoots fire, and the 风火轮: Wheels of Wind and Fire, which are basically flying roller skates in the shape of two gold wheels.

Look at that, so fashionable.

Ne Zha tries to go and beat up his asshole father, and Li Jing quickly realises he’s about to get his ass kicked by his pissed-off deified son. Remember when I said Ne Zha absorbed his brothers Water and Fire in the womb?

Because of this, he can now manifest four more arms and two more heads whenever he wants to become 三头六臂哪吒, Ne Zha of Three Heads and Six Arms. Sick.

The Jade Emperor decides enough is enough after seeing Ne Zha beat his dad up a million times. He goes to the Buddha for help, and the Buddha gives Li Jing a mini pagoda which can trap any demon, monster or spirit within it. Li Jing becomes a deity referred to as the Pagoda-Bearing Lord, and Ne Zha is forced to chill out on the patricide.

This is how the tale is known in popular culture, mostly because of a 1979 movie, produced by Shanghai Animation, which changed the original tale quite a bit. I've been using many images from the 1979 Ne Zha.

Movie name: Ne Zha Conquers the Sea, otherwise known as Murder Toddler Terrorizes Local Aquatic Ecosystem

For one, in the movie, Ao Guang and Ao Bing are evil oppressors who eat the children of Chentang Pass. Additionally, details are known differently across different iterations of the myth. For example, in Journey to the West, Ne Zha gets his name because it’s literally written on his hands when he’s born.

Since Ne Zha flies around so quickly on his Wheels of Wind and Fire roller skates, people sometimes see him as a patron deity of racing. If they ever make another Fast and Furious they should give him a cameo.

He is so famous that he’s had like a billion animated movies, stage plays and children’s books written about him. Traditionally, he’s depicted as a kid about seven to ten years old, on his roller skate wheels, holding his staff, with his ring turned into a gold bracelet he wears on his wrist and his red sash flying behind him. He has quite the iconic hairstyle: two space buns!

He’s such an iconic figure in Chinese culture: recent media has included him in many iterations.

Gaming fans will recognise him from Black Myth: Wukong as the aura-farming red fire dude with sick eyeliner and space buns.

I am not gonna lie this is probably the coolest design of Ne Zha I've ever seen.

The most iconic version of him is probably the 1979 version, though the recent Ne Zha movies from 2019 and 2025 are arguably just as popular now.

There was a 2021 movie called New Gods: Nezha Reborn that is a separate adaptation from Ne Zha 2019 and Ne Zha 2 2025, which was kind of a mid movie but worth a watch.

Several of the adaptations of Ne Zha that have become iconic:

Ne Zha 2019 ^ in his child form

Ne Zha from Fei Ren Zai (非人哉), a comedy series about mythological characters in modern China ^

The Legend of Ne Zha from 2003, a children's TV series ^

Child and Adult (reincarnated in modern world) versions of Ne Zha in 2021 New Gods Reborn: Ne Zha ^

Sometimes though he’s depicted as a teenager. All in all, since he died young, he’s generally never seen as an adult. Occasionally you’ll see him described as male body with a female face, basically meaning he’s super cute. Note that this doesn’t mean transgender or nonbinary as it’s often known in English, which was not a concept in ancient China.

Oftentimes the media involving him will include jokes of him being mistaken for a girl because he’s a kid with a pretty face.

Eventually Ne Zha becomes an official of the Heavenly Court, a marshall in the army. As I mentioned, he fights for the eventual King Wu of Zhou who overthrows King Zhou of Shang and creates the Zhou dynasty, making him a good guy despite his… concerning childhood.

Writing the entire myth out in English makes Ne Zha seem like a psychopath from birth, but his story is honestly more about a kid causing shenanigans and being forced to pay for it tragically. He’s really quite a victim, if you can believe it. Imagine a toddler born with Hulk-strength who accidentally smashes a few vases and is beaten for it.

Ne Zha 2019 was super popular, and without spoiling too much, Ao Bing became a super polite and likeable young master instead of the classic villain character he is, and aside from being HOT, he and Ne Zha became friends instead of plucking tendons. No tendon-plucking involved. They also change Ne Zha’s story quite a bit, but not enough that he becomes unrecognisable.

Ne Zha 2019 promotional poster ^

This is Ao Bing (the third dragon prince) in the 1979 movie as a villain.

In contrast, this is Ao Bing from Ne Zha 2019 and 2025. Quite the difference, right?

Adult Ne Zha from the Ne Zha 2019 movie

Ne Zha 2, released in 2025 and currently still airing, is now the eighth-highest grossing movie of all time and China’s biggest-ever film. It’s genuinely quite an incredible film, and is worthy of being the biggest animated movie of all time.

I recommend everyone go watch it even if you don’t know Chinese: it’s super funny and the visuals are astounding. Obviously it’s not perfect, and there are a lot of problems with it, but I don’t know, I’m still a big fan. For being made on such a small budget, it somehow manages to outdo Hollywood animation on sheer spectacle. If you can get IMAX tickets, get them!

If there is no other reason, watch the movie for Ao Guang, Ao Bing's dad. Remember the fugly old dragon from the 1979 version?

Well, this is him now. Talk about a glow-up. No joke, when he appeared on screen the entire movie theatre gasped out loud.

By the way, if you were wondering where Ne Zha falls on the timeline in relation to our friend Wukong, Ne Zha was born several thousand years before Wukong burst out of his rock. As such, when Wukong encounters him and *ahem* kicks his ass *ahem*, Ne Zha is already a deity working for the Heavenly Court.

I hope after reading this incredibly-long post, you learned something new about Chinese culture and our favourite lotus root, Ne Zha!

#chinese mythology #ne zha #ne zha 2 #chinese #mythology and folklore #chinese culture #animation #ancient china #china #nezha 2025 #ao bing #nezha 2019 #chinese animation

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the-cosmic-cauldron · 5 months ago

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❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 18+ How Filthy Are You: Raw & Naked ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

💌Welcome to 7 Days, 7 Posts! In honor of Valentine’s Day on February 14th, I’m releasing seven blog posts dedicated to love, intimacy, passion, and everything that ignites the flames. Join me on this journey as I share my insights on astrological placements that spark attraction, create chemistry, and merge souls.

If you enjoy my content, be sure to follow me, explore my other posts, and check out my paid services! 💌

Aries Venus: Tongue kissing, aggressive neck grabs, smacking, biting, pulling hair, aggressive fingering, gagging on it, talking extremely dirty, throwing the other person down, standing up while the other is on their knees, spanking, and ordering the other person around.

Aries Mars: Aggressively pulling your lover closer to you, so close their breath creates steam. Not in it for your lover's pleasure, purely in it for yours. Every stroke is closer to your orgasm. You slow it down, so you can build your orgasm, then faster, faster, faster. Until the orgasm comes, then you lie down, “I’m not finished,” you utter. You catch your breath, then get back up. Now it’s all your lover's pleasure. You start off slow, building your stamina, then faster, faster, faster; every moan they give you inspires a harder and more powerful move, until they’re shaking, begging you to stop, and you do your final move and they orgasm.

Taurus Venus: Watching porn, putting on lingerie, putting on makeup, taking a shower, slow lip kisses, massaging the most intimate parts of the body, putting oil on, lighting a candle, dry humping, licking the body in a trance, eye contact until the other folds, long session of head, extending time just cuddling and kissing.

Taurus Mars: Whispering in your lover's ear, “You ready?”, teasing them, putting it in then pulling it out, licking their pussy then kissing their thighs, playing with their nipples, then back to thrusting, back to licking. Slow and steady, no rush; the more they moan louder, the less you do. You’re trying to work them to their orgasm, not get them there immediately. Thrusting more and more with your fingers on her clit, pushing your body so close to theirs that every movement is felt. At the last minute, doing that one thing that turns them on so much, then watching them orgasm as you kiss them gently while they shake.

Gemini Venus: Watching porn, masturbating and making the other watch, dressing up, using sex toys, creating a plot, feeding your ego (telling you what you want to hear), teasing you with their words, fingering you, grabbing your neck, spanking, playing porn on the TV while getting or giving head.

Gemini Mars: A mixture of slow and fast-paced. One minute you’re making out, teasing the other playfully. Pause; you have a long make-out session again, telling the other person how good they look, how good their body looks, how much you crave and want them. Then you wait until they say they want it or are begging you for it before you slowly and carefully move towards them. Every thrust and lick comes with eye contact, then back to being preoccupied with pleasing. Each movement devours the other person; their moans are like long passive screams. The Gemini Mars can’t get enough; they want to finish in the naughtiest place they can and ask how they did afterward.

Cancer Venus: Cuddling, deep eye contact, holding hands and intimate kisses, long finger strokes across the most sensitive areas of the body, telling the other how much you love them, how special they are, the amount of care you have for them, kisses in places to mark one's territory, long sessions of head, licking and sucking nipples, playful teasing.

Cancer Mars: Relaxing, scented candle in the background with warm, freshly cleaned sheets, sitting in front of a TV as the movie plays in the background, a romance movie. Not wanting to do anything because you’re nervous, but glancing at the other over and over again, seductively. Slowly taking off clothes, leaning in for kisses, and grabbing on the most intimate parts of the other’s body. Backing up, taking a break and returning to the movie, then your lover becomes insanely horny and pushes you down on the bed from behind. You like this aggression; it makes you sweat, it makes you wild. Getting closer to your lover and kissing, tongue kissing, kissing all over their body, slowly working your way to the main session. Slow strokes, caressing their body while pleasing their spot. Saying I love you, I want you, I crave you, whispering in their ear all the way until they finish. Afterwards, you lie in the bed, sleepy, while you cuddle your lover.

Leo Venus: Playful teasing, playing a sex playlist, tongue kissing, complimenting the other, making them beg for it, making the other as horny as possible, slapping their ass, biting on their nipples, staring intensely, dominating the other, praising the other, using sex toys, pole dancing, stripping, giving head like there is no tomorrow.

Leo Mars: Having a good conversation, laughing, teasing, being overall playful. Staring at the other with a smirk, knowing what’s about to go down. The other person can’t stop touching you; you push them away, you make them earn it. This is not something you’re just going to give up easily; the person has to crave you, not superficially, but crave your dominance, crave your kind of pleasure. You let their eyes wander, you let them touch you where you want. You tell them what to do, and they do it. When you say more, they give more; when you say louder, they moan louder. They follow your commands, and they make you feel powerful. When you say, "say my name," they say it. Hot, sweaty, like a workout, you do what you need to make the person fully satisfied.

Virgo Venus: Taking a hot, steamy shower, drinking water or tea, or an energy drink, cuddling in bed, long, deep conversations, holding hands, tracing circles on their body, massaging their body, playing with the other person's hair, playing soft music in the background, slow, soft kisses, licking all over the other's body, slow and methodical head.

Virgo Mars: Eating a hearty meal together, having a talk about the day, unwinding, making small jokes, staring at the other, being nervous, playful hits, giving compliments to your lover as you make your way to the bedroom. Washing your hands, putting on some sounds to block out noise, then getting serious, pulling out the toys, the lotion, the oil, the sweet smell of the candle that you light while teasing your lover. Building intensity, slowly and methodically starting at one point of the body, moving all over slowly, taking time, making sure to please one spot before moving on to the other. Getting intensely pleasured at how much your lover is moaning, feeling satisfied. Having the stamina and lasting a long time, even your partner begins to beg for you to stop. You give in, then push back and give more until they finish. You finish off with taking a hot, steamy shower and putting on some fresh clothes.

Libra Venus: Wine and dine, soft kisses, playing in the other's hair, words of affirmation, gazing into each other's eyes, playful teasing, creating the ambiance, passionate holding of the other's body, warm embraces, fingering, giving head, staring into the other's eyes.

Libra Mars: Gazing into your lover's eyes, surveying their entire body, small kisses, soft strokes, deep analyzing of where you want to begin and what will build the most tension. Slow, taking it all in, heavy breathing, soft moans, building up momentum slower than fast, discerning the pace based on your lover's satisfaction, different positions, using toys, intensity as the orgasm builds, and holding onto the orgasm until the person can’t do it anymore, then holding your lover afterward.

Scorpio Venus: Intense staring, whispers, moments of silence, dark settings, candlelight only, under the covers, in lingerie, sex toys, whips, chains, handcuffs, blindfolds, gags, paddles, hot wax, aggressive play, pulling on the other's hair, dominating foreplay, gagging, intense head

Scorpio Mars: Intensely staring into each other's eyes, lip biting and caressing your tongue into your lover's mouth, spitting in their mouth, then smacking them intensely, pulling on their hair while you pin them down. Once pinned down, honing in and focusing first on their most intimate and scared areas of pleasure, slow and precise, licking, teasing, caressing, kissing. Then back to kissing and pulling your lover closer, so close into your body. You want to feel every ounce of them on you, and you thrust every ounce of you onto them: long strokes, powerful blows, intense movements, consistently until your lover gives in to orgasm, only to continue afterwards—continue to thrust, hold them, bite their ear, and make sure their pleasure extends beyond the orgasm.

Sagittarius Venus: Having a good time, drinking wine or liquor, getting high, free and anywhere, outside in nature, in public in a corner, at someone else’s house, fully naked and free, wild and untamed, licking nipples, playing with balls, giving soul-sucking head, playful teasing, filming, masturbating in front of one another, eating ass, using sex toys.

Sagittarius Mars: Having a blast, hazy feelings, laughing, teasing one another, trying to dominate your lover while your lover tries to dominate you, a power play game. Starting off with full intense thrusting, rapid pounding, fast, then faster, slow it down, then back to pounding, thrusting hard. First orgasm. Moving back into giving phenomenal head, the kind that doesn’t stop lick after lick, suck after suck, non-stop, barely breathing, second orgasm. Then it's time to switch up to asshole play; the third orgasm is the knock-out. And then fall asleep.

Capricorn Venus: Intense staring, silence, reading body language, inching closer, holding hands, kissing on the cheek, then moving to the chest, then moving to the genitalia, hair pulling, nipple biting, ass smacking, hand on the other's neck, telling them you want to fuck, feeling on their body, aggressive and long session of head, tongue kissing.

Capricorn Mars: Smirking while you rip off your lover's clothing, straight into it, heavy breathing and moaning, pressing hard against them, having them feel your body parts, your wetness, your hardness. Starting from the head, finishing at the feet. Kissing, forcing your dick into your lover's mouth, sitting on their face, nipple play, biting then licking your lover's boobs, intense sessions of head staring into your lover's eyes, strong thrusts, booty recoils, digging deeper and deeper into your lover. Ultimately waiting and waiting through the moans and screams for the ultimate orgasm. Acting completely normal after an hour of being nasty.

Aquarius Venus: Threesomes, orgies, watching others have sex, masturbating in front of the other, anal play, using sex toys, golden showers, choking, vibrators, lingerie, role play, bondage, cuckold, outdoor sex, gagging during oral sex, squirting, fingering, fisting, spitting in each other's mouth, pegging.

Aquarius Mars: Dedicating an ample amount of time to your love to explore all that you desire. Restraining yourself prior so that you can be extra horny and prepared. Watching your lover masturbate while you play with yourself. Teasing your lover, you walk to them and bend them over, anal play, eating their ass, fingering their ass, fingering their pussy then their ass, using all the holes available, mouth on pussy, mouth on dick, fingers in pussy, giving the dick a handjob while sucking on the balls, getting down and dirty, filthy, clothes ripped off. Going from aggressive head to small strokes on the clit for an orgasm. Going from gagging on the dick to riding your lover's face. Mixing different moves, pulling out the sex toys, trying different positions. Restraining from orgasm, as it inches closer you pull back, then start again. Sticking it in the asshole, then in the mouth. Fingering the pussy while eating it. On and on, slowing down when the orgasm inches closer then going back to it until both you and your lover orgasm.

Pisces Venus: Romanticism, cuddles, soft kisses, long gazes, expressing feelings, tight hugs, warm embraces, tracing circles on the other’s skin, a warm bath, a soft bed, compliments, nipple sucking, slow, deep breaths, a good playlist in the background, slowly removing clothes, whispering, toe sucking.

Pisces Mars: A cosmic dance with your lover, nothing harsh, simply a merging of the two of you closer to each other. Quiet glances, looking up and down, small gestures to emphasize that you crave your lover, a hand on their thigh, gripping it, a smirk as they grab a part of your body. Staring but then looking away, your lover comes to you. Holding their hands, kissing them slowly, soft kisses on the neck, down the back, near the spine, soft moans that one cannot hear loud, but it’s there, intense breathing. Merging closer and closer, on top of each other, feeling the other's breath. Caressing their dick, massaging their pussy, licking and sucking with ease and calm, back and forth with a rhythm. Getting into your favorite position, staring at your lover in awe, moaning, looking away, taking your time, not so fast, not so slow, but sometimes faster when it feels so good. Right there, right there you say as you continue to feel the intensity of the build-up of an orgasm. Letting the orgasm build until you can’t take it anymore and orgasm, then fall over for a nap, or sleep.

#astro notes #astro observations #astroblr #astrology #astro placements #astro community #cancer #capricorn #gemini #aries #taurus #leo ♌️#virgo #libra #scorpio #saggitarius #aquarius #pisces

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fixyourwritinghabits · 7 months ago

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What To Do About Filler

I am deeply frustrated at the increasing usage of the concept of "filler" in writing, partly because how people are using it is completely separated from what it usually means, and partly because few people explain what they actually mean when a story lacks "filler."

So, in short, when this comes up, what people usually are talking about is:

A lack of subplots. Subplots are essential background to developing your story beyond the main action points. Subplots include romantic storylines, internal journeys (learning to deal with a trauma, for example), plots that are critical for secondary characters, etc.

No room to breathe (aka pacing). Keeping up the tension is a common piece of advice, but if every single scene is filled with tension, you're going to exhaust the reader (and yourself). Quieter moments allow characters to reflect, realize things (like feelings for each other), and give you space to establish worldbuilding and mood.

Rushed or missing character development. Giving your characters space to learn things about themselves, confess or realize feelings, and moments to make decisions and change are essential to a story. Defeating the big bad is important, but usually the inner strength to do so comes from the character changing over the course of the story.

I am losing the battle against using the word filler when you mean a story lacks other things. Other than shaking my fist at the youths, I suggest that if you get feedback about "filler," see if you can get specifics. Is it an issue with pacing? Character developments? Not enough description or worldbuilding? If a romance seemed rushed, at what points does the reader think there should be more interaction? Etc.

A note for fanfic writers: Your goals are often different from someone writing to publish, but hammering down what filler means can still help you as well. Narrowing down the point of your story ("in this drabble, these characters flirt without using words" or "sexy coffeeshop AU") and making sure to ask your beta readers if what you're writing fulfills that goal can help you figure out if your story is making the impact you want.

#writing advice #plotting #pacing #filler #I'm not anti-filler but I am pro-clarity

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sleepiestwizard · 2 years ago

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im happy to announce that after almost a week of writing this fic i finally have a plot!

me switching to scar pov in my mostly grian pov fic so i can describe how absolutely pathetic grian looks rn

#/half joking #i had written so much background lore that is literally not needed #and didnt know what the fuck i was gonna do w the main plot except the romance part and the first scene which is plot heavt #but ive figured it out :3 #not all of the details yet obviously but i have at least the main beats and the overarching plot plus a few more scenes (in detail) planned #so thats fun teehee #if anyones curious PLEASE ask me about it i wanna talk abt it so bad #its desertduo pirate au #w boatem #teehee :3

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cherrixpie · 5 months ago

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NEMESIS

part five of six (surprise :3)

↬ you were supposed to steer clear of mattheo riddle. Shame that he was just so irrestible.

↬ sfw; wc: 10.0k (i saw this coming); cw: violence, blood, broken bones, swear words; tags: gryffindor!reader, muggleborn!reader, enemies to lovers

( masterlist )

Dorothy Dankworth had been a chatterbox even when she was alive. Since her portrait had adopted her most prominent trait, she was the main source of gossip and information for the portraits all over the castle. The moment she saw the Chosen One’s close, muggleborn friend and the Dark Lord’s son tucked away in her forgotten chamber, giggling like co-conspirators and the indecent kiss on the cheek they would have been publicly shunned for in Dorothy’s lifetime, she knew she'd stumbled upon something scandalous. As soon as the Riddle boy had closed the door behind him with a last look through the room, she sprung up from her seat and left her frame, her painted skirts swishing in her wake.

The next two dozen hours, she spent flitting through portrait after portrait, relaying the story to anyone willing to listen. From the stern witches of the Transfiguration corridor to the rowdy group of drunken monks down near the kitchens, Dorothy's story evolved with each telling, peppered with more detail and insinuation until it was less about a tutoring lessons and more about a scandalous romance. By the next evening, gossip had spread around the portraits until even up at the Gryffindor tower, a certain portrait caught wind of the story. And she'd never been one to keep news to herself either.

Blissfully unaware of the storm brewing, you left your shift at the Hospital Wing that evening, joining the crowds of students flooding towards the Great Hall for dinner. Your hands were still stinging from the way you'd poked yourself with the needle due to your lack of concentration. The previous night kept replaying in your mind, especially Mattheo’s kiss on your cheek, the sensation of his surprisingly soft lips. In your memory, it was a confused whirlwind of laughter, his infuriatingly beautiful eyes and the Smiths playing in the background.

As any time you'd find yourself in a crowd these days, you subtly turned your head, on the lookout for a certain Slytherin with brown curls. You did manage to spot him, strolling along with his friends and a toothpick dangling from his lips in place of the usual cigarette. He was staring straight ahead as Malfoy talked animatedly beside him. When you passed them, you distinctly made out the words “Potter with his perfect flying and his perfect scar-”.

Spontaneously, you flashed him a little smile over your shoulder, and for the split of a second, your eyes met and his crinkled with amusement. But before someone could detect your silent exchange, you hastened your step and left them behind, Malfoy's voice still drawling, but being drowned out more and more as you approached the hall alongside a wave of Ravenclaws.

When you stepped into the Entrance Hall, where students were steadily accumulating, you glanced around for your friends and caught sight of Harry, Ron and Hermoine walking down the stone stairs to Gryffindor tower, engaged in lively conversation. Hermoine seemed to be talking to Ron insistently as she gesticulated wildly, Harry’s gaze flickered from one to the other and Ron looked like he was plotting a murder, fists clenched and staring ahead darkly. His cheeks were almost as red as his hair, seemingly burning with indignation. Thinking it was just another petty argument between him and Hermoine, you waved at them and Ron spotted you first. But instead of lighting up or waving back, his gaze turned only more sinister. He nudged the others and then made a beeline towards you, Harry and Hermoine struggling to keep up and exchanging worried looks.

Clutching your book bag, you froze in place and watched them approach with widened eyes, students moving around you but you didn't really see them. What on earth could this be about? It couldn't be…? Ron pushed through a gaggle of third year Hufflepuffs before coming to a halt before you, breathing unevenly and outright furious. “Tell me it's a lie. Please, tell me it's not true,” he growled with balled fists and you stared up at him with wide eyes, completely perplexed, maybe because you didn't want to think, didn't want to imagine that they'd found out about you and their worst enemy sneaking off together in secret.

“Ron what are you even talking about?” You asked, nervously, and took a step back. Out of your peripheral vision, you could make out several heads near you turning towards the scene Ron was causing with his shouting. Ron's frown only deepened and he didn't reciprocate your anxious little smile. “We heard something from the fat lady- something I really, really don't want to believe about you.”

“What are you even saying?” You exclaimed, an edge of desperation in your tone, and you glanced around nervously. To your horror, you caught a glimpse of green near the doors, meaning that the first of the procession from the dungeons must've reached the entrance hall. You could only pray Mattheo was still trailing behind his friends.

“Don't act stupid!” Ron exclaimed angrily, throwing his hands into the air. You threw a helpless look at the other two, somehow still hoping this was some sort of prank. But Hermoine looked at you very seriously and Harry’s eyes had narrowed, and neither of them held Ron back when he roared: “Please tell me you're not fucking Mattheo Riddle!”

“What?!” you spluttered in indignation and glanced around nervously to see how many people had heard him. “What the hell, Ron, I’d never-” You fell silent. You would, probably. But, you reminded yourself stubbornly, you hadn't. “Where did you hear that? Who said I-?”

“The portrait of Dorothy Dankworth saw you together,” Ron pressed, carefully watching your reaction. “The fat lady told us some interesting things about your little meetup with Riddle.” He spat out the name as if it was poisonous and you felt a pinch of anger in your chest.

“You're going to trust the fat lady with information?” you bit back and folded your arms over your chest defiantly, but Ron was undeterred. “Well, then, deny it!”

That shut you up effectively. If you lied to them now and they'd find out anyway, you would lose their trust indefinitely. And you also didn't want to lie to your friends, but their reaction was just like you'd imagined. You let out a deep breath and squared your shoulders as if that would protect you against their scrutiny. It wasn't like you didn't understand why they were angry. They didn't know him like you did. They didn't know he could be funny, kind, caring, passionate and, most of all, nothing like his father.

“I did meet him,” you said, fighting to keep your voice composed as Ron did an indignant intake of air and Hermoine's frown deepened. “But it wasn't like that. I'm-,” you hesitated for a split second, but Harry's eyes narrowed further nonetheless, “I'm tutoring him in muggle studies.”

“You're tutoring him?” Ron roared as if you'd just confessed to killing his grandma, “Are you stupid?!” You recoiled slightly at his harsh tone and shame rose in you when you realized half the hall had stopped talking and was looking over at Ron, who was fuming with outrage. “Have you lost your bloody mind? Tutoring Riddle? You're cozying up to a death eater in the making!” As you opened your mouth to reply, Ron cut you off. “How long has this been going on? Huh? Weeks? Months?”

“He asked me after the quidditch game,” you replied with an honesty your friends couldn't appreciate. “You mean right after he tried to kill Harry with that bludger?” asked Hermoine, appalled, and you frowned defensively. “He didn't try to kill him, don't be ridiculous.”

“Don't you even think of defending him!” Ron called, oblivious to the turning heads. “Don't you get it? He knows that you're close to Harry, he's just planning to get closer to him and you're letting him! Just because he's pretty!” Hermoine tugged at his sleeve to get him to consider the crowd, but Ron's remedy to talking himself into a rage. You were frozen in place, unable to move or defend yourself. It was horrible, what he threw at you, so horrible you couldn't even find the words to reply. Though you knew they'd not take kindly and you understood them well, you'd never have thought you'd one day be scared of Ron. “He's you-know-who’s son,” he bellowed, “And you're throwing yourself at him!”

“I'm not!” you exclaimed, but it sounded more like a plea than anything else. “And he's not using me, I'm just tutoring him, I swear!” Remembering his words, a hint of anger finally crept into your tone. “And he's not his father, he's nothing like him!”

Suddenly, you caught a movement out of the corner of your eyes. It was so small, and should have disappeared into those of the crowd, but somehow, you were drawn to it, as if it had been highlighted by a stage light. Your heart sank. It was Mattheo, behind him his group of Slytherin friends. He was standing at the edge of the crowd, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your stomach drop. His jaw was clenched so tight you thought it might snap, and his hands were balled into fists at his sides, barely restrained fury radiating off of him.

There was a dangerous edge to his stance, the kind of tension that promised violence if someone as much as breathed the wrong way. You could see the way his gaze now darted between Harry and Ron, as if calculating how quickly he could get to the latter and shut him up for good. And yet, beneath the storm of anger, you thought you could make out something else- something almost protective- that made your already racing heart pound only faster against your ribcage, though you couldn't decide whether it was in fear or something more … complicated.

When you locked eyes with him, you shook your head pleadingly, and to your utter surprise, the hand that had been wandering to his wand halted. You'd never seen him look so serious as when he now raised a brow at you, that had your breath caught up in your throat. He was waiting for your signal, your permission- even though Ron said all these horrible things about him. When you shook your head subtly, he took a small step back, though still glaring at Ron and vigilant.

“Can't you hear yourself?” Harry chimed in, hands balled into fists also. Hermoine, who seemed to get increasingly embarrassed by all the attention, tried to tug them towards the Great Hall, but he fended her off and looked at you angrily. “He's already manipulating you, you can't trust him!”

“His father’s you-know-who, for Merlin's sake,” Ron spat, “Do you need it spelled out for you? You're so naive if you think he's different. You're muggleborn, he'd probably kill you without even fucking blinking the moment he has the chance!” You threw a nervous glance back at Mattheo, but his features seemed set in stone, unmovable, as he stared at Ron. Berkshire’s hand hovered over his shoulder, as if he was just waiting for him to snap and to have to hold him back from launching at Ron, but Mattheo showed no signs of attack except for his predatory stance. His friend’s eyes flickered towards you quickly and you looked away. “You have no idea what you're talking about!” you said, glaring and holding onto your bag for support, as if his next words would roll over you and bring you down like a storm. And they did.

With a humorless laugh, Ron balled his fists and stepped closer to you. “You're smarter than this- or at least I thought you were. But clearly, you'll believe anything as long as he says it with that stupid smirk of his! You're so fucking naive, risking everything-our trust, your safety-for some slimy Slytherin who probably laughs about you behind your back!”

His words hit you like a gut punch. They were designed to hurt, by someone you trusted taking advantage of your insecurities. Your hands started to shake and you gripped your handle tighter, willing yourself not to cry, not now, not here, not with everyone watching. You opened your mouth to speak, to defend yourself or him, but only a broken little noise emerged from your throat. Your defense seemed to fall from your lips and shatter like glass on the cold stone of the floor, right between you and the friend you'd trusted to never hurt you like this.

When the tears came, they were inevitable, burning in your eyes and finally slipping past your crumbling barrier. Embarrassment washed over you and you tried to wipe them off with a shaky hand, but it was in vain as now, as if a dam had broken. More tears emerged from your eyes and streaked down your cheeks as you suppressed the sobs with all your might. In front of you, Ron's chest stopped heaving suddenly, as if he had just sobered up from a moment of drunken madness, and you saw a hint of regret in his eyes. But, when he stepped closer, you took an instinctive step back. However, Ron didn't get the chance to say anything further, because the sudden sound of someone clapping pierced through the dense, tension-heavy air like a knife.

Mattheo's entire body tensed when he saw the tears stream down your face, saw your lower lip wobble, your wide, vulnerable eyes and your shoulders trembling under the weight of Weasley’s cruel words. Everything but a stranger to rage and violence, he'd only ever felt it on his behalf, or towards himself. This was new. It was like a switch flipped in his mind, an overwhelming roar thrumming against his ears and drowning out everything except the image of you breaking right in front of him. Fury coursed through his veins, hot and all-consuming, but beneath the rage, there was something that caught him off guard- an ache he couldn't name, sharp and suffocating, digging into his chest like a knife.

He hated seeing you like this, hated the way your pain seemed to ripple through you, almost hated you for making him feel as if he was falling apart with you. But he was. Seeing you cry set his every nerve on fire. How fucking dare Weasley make you feel like this? His hands curled and uncurled to fists so hard his nails dug into his palms, the raw sting being the only thing grounding him just enough to keep from charging through the onlookers immediately. But with every second he watched you recoil into yourself with hurt and shame, it became harder to hold back. He didn't even realize he was already approaching you, a low growl rumbling in his throat as his fury trembled just below his breaking point. No one made you cry- especially not some self-righteous Gryffindor.

As you whirled your head around, just like every single person in the hall, you saw Mattheo emerge from their midst, clapping his hands together. His fury was visible in his tense shoulder as and clenched jaw, barely contained and moments away from exploding. He sauntered towards Ron, a sly grin on his lips as he watched him up and down. Ron, reacting wisely, took a step back, his eyes flickering from Riddle’s wand-less hands to his face with hardly contained nervousness. “Congratulations, Weasley,” Mattheo grinned menacingly, his dark eyes glinting like ignited matches about to meet oil. “You just won yourself a prize.”

Then, Mattheo did the most curious thing- he stepped closer to Ron, so there was barely any room left, closing up on him as Ron inched back, and with an almost crazy, humorless grin, patted his cheek softly. Then, within the split of a second, he brought his arm back and his fist met Ron's jaw with a resounding crack. As Ron stumbled back, Mattheo grabbed his collar, kicked his shin and brought him to his knees. One hand held his head in place as he slammed his fist down on it again and again.

Drops of blood flew through the air and every hit produced a disgusting squelching sound as Ron roared in pain, grabbed Mattheo around the waist and attempted to slam him to the ground. But it was to no avail, as the latter spat in his face and launched himself towards Ron once more, making him feel every little bit of the hurt he'd caused you. Mattheo's head was thrumming with a mix of fury and the adrenaline-induced excitement of a good fight, but it was neither that made him ram his fists into every bit of Ron he could reach over and over again.

The image of you flashed before his eyes, of you crying, of you shaking. If he were the himself of a few months ago, he'd have scoffed at your weakness, called it pathetic. But now, nothing could equal the rage he felt seeing you hurt. When Weasley managed the occasional blow to his face, he didn't even register the pain, his mind taken over by a mindless need to punish him for making you cry. And any bit of pain he'd feel later as his knuckles cracked and bled, as Ron's fist met his jaw and nose and his own blood dropped down on the ginger beneath him, it would be deserved. Deep down, he knew it was his fault, maybe he even knew he was making it worse. But he didn't care, his mind overtaken by a sudden burst of hatred.

You stood, frozen, unable to move, as the crowd screamed, horrified, and the squelches of blood filled the air. Mattheo was punching Ron in silent concentration, it seemed, and he looked wild as a beast. His beautiful curls hung from his face as he caughed up blood and kicked and hit Ron without any care for defending himself, or shielding himself. You had to stop this, you were vaguely aware that this had to be your fault, but you couldn't, you were rooted to the spot as if you'd been hexed into immobilization.

Finally, the crowd burst apart as Professor McGonnagall and Professor Snape approached, alerted by the noisy onlookers. Nott, who hadn't moved in, either to help Mattheo or to break up the fight, now surged forward when he saw them and ripped Mattheo off of Ron forcefully, their fellow Slytherin's aiding him as they pulled Mattheo away from Ron, who was heaving and whimpering, his face a bloody mess. Mattheo, though looking far better off, had blood seeping down his face as well, struggling against his friend’s hold wildly.

Not even Theo’s harsh reminders of the Professor’s presence could clear the blood-red fog in Mattheo's head, clouding all reasonable thought. Oh, how ecstatic he felt when he could let someone pay for this fucking world, and how much better it felt to make someone pay for hurting you. But, unlike usual, his anger didn't subside when he saw the recipient of his wrath lay broken and bleeding on the ground. Hate pulsed through him in violent surges, even as Theo’s hands dug into his arms and his hissed warnings fell on deaf ears. Nothing could get through to him- until he saw you.

Still clutching your back, you stood rooted to your spot, eyes locked onto Ron’s coughing and bleeding figure. They were widened in horror, your shoulders raised in apprehension. Your shaken look washed over him like a tidal wave and sobered him up just as effectively. Mattheo stopped trashing against his friends’ hold, unable to do anything but stare at your widened eyes as dread and regret submerged him into their depths, making him unable to breathe or to think, suffocated by the weight of the realization what he'd done. He'd made you afraid of him. In your eyes, he had to have confirmed all your friends’ warnings.

Finally, you were able to tear your eyes away from Ron and frantically searched the crowd for Mattheo, spotting his bloody figure being dragged away by the combined efforts of his friends. When they emerged from the crowd, Mattheo seemed to snap out of some sort of fever and pushed Nott off of him. Without looking at you, he took off towards the entry gates and students burst out of his way, scrambling to not stand in his path. With a resounding pound, he pushed open the gates and slammed them shut behind him.

Mattheo had barely ever felt worse than he did right now. Scratch that, he had never felt worse. Not when he'd been tortured by his father, not when he'd almost suffered death at the hands of his mother. What did he have to lose then? The cold night air hit his skin and made his scratches sting aggressively, but he made no efforts to heal them. He knew he deserved the pain. A cruel sort of satisfaction pulsed through him as he pressed down on the cut near his jaw, until the image of you flashed through his mind, how you’d stitched up his wound after the quidditch game.

But you weren't here now, he reminded himself. He'd scared you away, he'd lost you, just like all the good he'd ever had in his life, he didn't deserve you. You were right to be horrified, yet, the bitterness consumed him. How could he ever have hoped to be worthy of you? He tried to drown out the memory of you frowning at his smoking after the quidditch game and drew a pack of cigarettes from his inside pocket. His hands were trembling, for some reason, covered in blood and barely managing to pull out a cigarette and lighting it with a flick of his wrist.

Putting the burning smoke between his lips, he took a drag of it and the momentary relief flooded his mind. Though his bleeding lip stung in protest, he took another drag and breathed in the smoke. With uneasy steps, he walked down the stairs to the entrance hall until its golden light had given way to nightly darkness and he slumped down on one of the steps, taking continuous drags out of the cigarette. Self-loathing burned through him as he stared into the darkness. Why did he have to destroy everything that was good and kind in his cruel world?

When the sound of steps met his ears, he could have growled in frustration, until he realized that the steps were far too light and hesitant to be Theo’s. For a second he considered Pansy, but he knew who it was, really. You'd come, and he wished you hadn't. He wished he wouldn't have to look you in the eye and see the inevitable accusation, consequence of his stupidity. You'd been right there. Why couldn't he have waited to get Weasley somewhere you wouldn't see? Somewhere you wouldn't be, so you'd never know what kind of monster you'd been defending. No, he truly didn't deserve you.

The footsteps came to a halt a step back, but Mattheo didn't turn his head. He was a coward. All he could do was stare at the burning ember between his fingers as you took another step and sat down next to him on the stairs. You didn't speak, but Mattheo wished you would scream at him, so that he could dismiss you as just another person who hated him. But your silent accusation was much, much worse. The longer it went on, the more Mattheo’s head thrummed with the added pain of the bruises and cuts against the cool night air, until he couldn't take it anymore.

“You don't have to say it,” Mattheo's voice cut through the cold air in between you, loaded up with simmering tension. “If you're just here to yell at me, know that I've heard it all and just go.” Surprised, you turned to look at him, taking him all in. His curls hung into his eyes in a way that made you want to brush them away. But even if it'd been appropriate, you wouldn't have wanted to hurt the bleeding cut on his temple further. A burning cigarette dangled off his lips and his hands, covered in blood, wrung in his lap.

“Why did you do it?” you asked quietly, not moving an inch. The scene that had just taken place seemed to cling to you both, making you unable to face each other. Your thoughts were scattered and unfocused, still hurting from Ron’s words and caught in a whirlwind of concern for both of the boys. McGonnagall had started dragging Ron, who was unable to walk, to the hospital wing, but Mattheo's injuries had stayed unattended to. You felt the strong desire to reach over, take his hands into yours and treat his cuts and bruises, but you knew he wouldn't let you. When you glanced over, you caught him pressing down on one of his cuts, making more blood seep from it, down, get caught up in his brow. Following the drop of blood with your eyes, they suddenly fell onto his.

Mattheo hadn't intended to defend himself. Attempting to defend himself would open him up to rejection of his desperate plea for you to understand, to forgive, to card your soft and unsullied hands through his hair and tell him that everything was going to be alright. Stupid daydreams, fucking delusions, yet he couldn't help the words that fell from his lips when he locked eyes with you and his self-loathing was overpowered by a sudden surge of fear, to see the same look of disgust and horror on your face that he had been getting ever since he set foot in the school. “I saw you cry and everything just… disappeared.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, but there was no malice in your expression. Of course there wasn't. Because you were a fucking angel. Next to you, he was a greedy demon. “Wait,” you said, your voice somewhat softer than before, and leaned closer. Mattheo wished you hadn't, because the way your eyes glinted up close reminded him of that fateful night in the kitchens. You looked just as pretty now, only that he was now willing to admit it to himself. “You beat him up for … me?”

Mattheo shrugged roughly and looked away from you to take another drag out of his cigarette. The smoke emerged from his lips in fascinating shapes that your eyes clung to as he answered. “‘Course, what did you think?” Your gaze dropped to your hands as you played with your fingers, deep in thought. You had just assumed it had been Ron’s comments about Mattheo that had set him off, but he sounded too blunt to be dishonest. Per usual.

“Well,” you said hesitantly and stealing another glance at him. “He said some pretty awful things about you as well.”

Mattheo looked up in surprise, but when he met your gaze, his jaw clenched. Of course, you'd think of him, even after what he'd done to Weasley. Your eyes were sharp and steady, but when you shifted closer to him, he could practically feel the warmth radiating off of your body. “But he was right,” he said roughly and squashed out his cigarette. Glowing embers floated towards the ground and melted the snow where they landed.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly, and he refused to look at you. “I didn't need tutoring in muggle studies. I just wanted to take advantage of your kindness and be able to have you to myself more often.” His monotone voice couldn't betray the storm brewing in his chest. You needed to know, for some reason, you needed to know. He had to come clean now, he wanted to watch your face fall as he tore apart the image you had of him so you'd finally stop looking at him with these wide, good eyes that looked so unfairly beautiful.

Your heart beat hard against your ribs as you processed his words. Why did he want you to himself more often? Had the kiss on the cheek last night meant anything more than friendship? Doubt and excitement curled in your stomach. Could Mattheo Riddle really like you like that? You'd never really been someone’s priority, yet, tonight, he'd fought Ron for you. Not that you condoned his behavior. “Why did you want me all to yourself?” you finally dared to ask, your voice shaking slightly.

Mattheo didn't answer, only taking another cigarette out of his pack and igniting it via wandless magic. You guessed it was the stress paired with the need to do something with his hands, the last one you could emphasize with. Because you didn't smoke, your fingers fiddled absentmindedly with your school skirt until they closed around the hem in a decisive manner. Thankfully, your voice was steady when you addressed him once more. “You do know, though, don't you?” you asked, attempting to meet his gaze. “That I don't see you like Ron does.”

A bitter chuckle left his lips, along with another curl of smoke that danced in the air between you, as if it was mocking you. When he spoke, his voice was hard and closed off, allowing no room for discussion. “Didn't I just prove him right?” It was technically a question, but he seemed to have decided the matter already, which made an unsuspected surge of anger flare up in you.

“No!” you said, louder than you'd intended, and your raised voice finally seemed to shake him up enough to bring himself to look at you. Your heart seized when you realized he'd averted his eyes because they were glistening traitorously. You reached over to grab his hand, it was slimy with blood, but you didn't care. To your relief, Mattheo seemed too stunned by your touch to say something. “You're nothing like your father,” you said, emphasizing each word in a desperate attempt to convey what you thought of him, to correct whatever he believed you to think. “You're nothing like him,” you said again, gaze never so much as wavering.

Another small, humorless laugh filled the air as he swayed his head lightly, a bitter smile on his bleeding lips. He took another drag off the cigarette before taking it out of his mouth and blowing the smoke out softly, so it mingled and curled between the two of you, like a wall, or a blanket to hide himself under. Through the fog, you could still see the light shimmer in his dark eyes. “Darling, you just watched me beat your friend half to death,” he drawled, ironically, and turned from you once more when the smoke had subsided.

His bitterness and unwillingness to listen sparked defiance in you and you shuffled even closer to force him to look at you. “I never said you didn't have issues, darling,” you replied, matching his sarcasm. Mattheo laughed again, but this time, it was a genuine sort of chuckle he himself seemed surprised by. Suddenly, he winced lightly and another drop of blood emerged from his busted lip.

Almost instinctively, you reached over and wiped over his cheek to brush it away. One hand slipped into your inner jacket pocket as you pulled out the flask of murtlap juice you always carried around with you, just in case. Dabbing some onto your finger, you leaned even closer to him and softly ran your fingers over his lip, his cheek, his bruises and cuts. You felt him watching you when suddenly, he seized your waist and pulled you closer, making you gasp in surprise.

Mattheo couldn't believe it. Here you were, fretting over him, your brows furrowed in worry. Here you were, healing his scratches, when you should have been screaming, or crying, or coldly bidding him goodbye. As your hand ran over his cheek and threatened to reach the deepest gash, his hands seized either sides of your waist as if by instinct. The adorable little gasp it elicited to you was music to his undeserving ears, he hated the way he reveled in it. His thumbs brushed over your sides selfishly as he leaned closer and basked in the invisible light you spread. “Do you really think that?”

“I know it,” you said, softly now that you had finally reached him. You brushed off the remaining murtlap essence on your skirt and hesitantly cupped his cheeks with your hands. It felt strange to touch him, as if you were breaching museum guidelines by touching their marble statues. Statues higher than any living man who might have inspired them. “I used to think otherwise,” you confessed, unable to hide the tenderness in your voice, “but not anymore. I used to think you were all hard edges and cold ice, I once thought you couldn't feel pain, couldn't feel anything, really. But I know you now, and I know that I was wrong about you. Because the man I know can be kind and funny and so unlike what I thought he was.” A light frown adorned your face. “Mattheo, why do you keep pressing on that cut?”

He didn't have to say, because you knew, of course you did. Biting down on your lip, you searched his face for some sign to either stop or continue, but you couldn't find one. “Listen to me, Mattheo,” you said urgently, “you're not who they always told you you were.” You hadn't meant for your voice to drop to a murmur, and now it was like whispering secrets in class, unveiling hidden truths under the watchful eye of your worlds.

To your shock, you suddenly felt him tremble slightly under your touch and your eyes widened. Mattheo seemed to be suppressing the shaking of his shoulders, but his body twitched with suppressed emotion. Acting purely off of instinct, you surged forward and wrapped your arms around him.

The moment your arms wrapped around him, Mattheo froze, his breath catching as if all air had been knocked out of his lungs. He wasn't used to this- this kind of warmth, this kind of comfort, especially when he felt he didn't deserve it. For a good second, he didn't move, afraid that if he even breathed too hard, the fantasy would shatter, you'd pull away and leave him with the hollow ache he'd been carrying ever since he stormed out of the entrance hall. But then, as he felt your warm breath against his temple, as if it was living proof that he wasn't merely imagining things, or living through one of his fathers cruel nightmares, he caved in.

Slowly, Mattheo let himself sink into the embrace, his shoulders sagging as the tension seemed to bleed out of him. The blood from his face and hands tainted your white shirt, but you didn't seem to care, only softly stroking over his back in soothing patterns. You were good at this, too good. You surely had given, and had been given, many hugs in your life, you were an expert. His own hands hovered awkwardly at first as he became aware of the fact that he'd never actually been hugged like this. An irrational surge of panic flooded through him that he couldn't do it, didn't know how to return the gesture, that he couldn't hug you. But then, he hesitantly placed them on your back, suddenly clinging to you as if you were the only thing grounding him and keeping him from falling apart entirely.

Your touch softened the storm raging and roaring inside of him, but it also brought a lump to his throat that he couldn't swallow down. Because he couldn't help but think you deserved someone who knew how to give hugs.

“I'm not gonna go,” you said in a low voice, remembering how he’d dismissed you earlier, and felt him almost shudder under your touch. You couldn't quite grasp that you were hugging Mattheo Riddle, and he was hugging you back as if you were his lifeline, more so grabbing you than anything else, movements uncertain as if he wasn't quite sure what to do.

“You won't?” he suddenly whispered and you nodded your head as you ran a hand through his curls. God, how you had long dreamed of doing that. “Promise,” you said softly as you carded the strands through your fingers and drew patterns on his scalp.

He suddenly stirred, his hands fell from your back and down to your sides as they found your waist once more. With a careful but firm motion, he moved you onto the step next to him and turned to face you, a serious expression on his bloodied face. His dark eyes were almost glaring, though not at you, and he howered so close to you that you could feel his hot breath on your cheeks and, even in the dark, could see the golden sprinkles in his eyes. Your heart was beating so loudly you were surprised he didn't hear it, or maybe he did and didn't mention it. Was it the adrenaline of the fight acting, or just his usual flirtatiousness? Somehow, you thought it was neither.

“You know that I'd never hurt you, right?” he asked gravely, brows furrowed over his dark eyes. He'd never looked this beautiful before, in spite of the blood and the bruises.

“Yes,” you said, without hesitation, and some of the tension seemed to be leaving Mattheo as his shoulders relaxed slightly.

Encouraged by your words, he leaned even closer until his breath fanned your lips and your breath hitched slightly, making his lips and fingers twitch. “You know I'd fucking kill anyone who does?” he said, as if it were a vow. Both his voice and his eyes were steady and dead-serious, but his thumbs brushed over your sides tenderly.

“Mattheo, he didn't mean to,” you breathed, hardly knowing what you were saying anymore. His proximity made you dizzy, but you'd nothing to hold onto but him.

Mattheo groaned lightly, a sound of frustration, and dipped his head down to your neck. You prayed he couldn't hear how fast your pulse was going, would stock the goosebumps up to the cold night air that suddenly seemed so hot. “Don't you defend him,” he growled into your neck, nipping lightly at the skin there and eliciting a small squeak from you. Raising his head once more, he stared into your eyes with such intensity that your hands started to tremble under the weight of his gaze. “Fuck, I never want to see you cry again, princess.”

This was an irreversible breach of your previous platonicism, you knew there was no going back now, and, as always, your brain could scarcely keep up with him. He was a whirlwind, a force of nature, utterly destructive and terrifyingly beautiful, something you had admired from afar but always felt the pull towards. Now, you were too close, it was inevitable that you would be drawn to him completely, be pulled into his stormy midst, discover what lay behind his deadly armor. And God, how you didn't mind it one bit.

“Mattheo…,” you breathed, no words forming in your mind, just his name as you stared up into his dark eyes. They reflected the starry sky, and somehow, it was even more beautiful through his eyes than when you'd admired it from the grounds before your detention. The storm in them had subsided somewhat, or maybe, this was the eye of the storm, because in this moment, all there was in your world was him, his breathing, his voice, his touch and his serious eyes. Nothing else.

“I'd burn down the whole world for you,” he said heavily, and a nervous little chuckle fell from your lips. His eyes darted down to them. “There's six billion people in that world you want to burn down,” you reminded him, and his eyes snapped back up to yours as he frowned. Mattheos head swam as he leaned closer, his heart pounding hard against his ribs. He'd never wanted anything as much as he wanted this.

“I only care about one of them.”

As his lips met yours, it wasn't the reckless, impulsive kiss you'd half-expected. it was tender, almost hesitant, as if he was afraid you might pull away. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Thoughts reduced to the memory of his eyes and words and the feeling of his slightly chapped lips on yours. The kiss wasn’t just a spark; it was a thread pulling you closer to him, unraveling every doubt you may have had left about him. The faint metallic taste in your mouth couldn't deter you from deepening the kiss and burying your hands in his dark curls once more.

Mattheo could have died, right here, right now, so he could never ruin this moment. When you slipped your soft fingers into his hair, he let out a low groan that you answered with a hitched breath before he got a hold of your neck and pulled you against him once more. He was in fucking heaven, or at least as close to it as was possible for a creature like him. The hand that didn't hold your neck circled your waist and pulled you towards him, making you gasp into his mouth and giving him the chance to slip his tongue past your lips. The soft sigh it elicited from you made his head spin.

For a moment, he had to restrain himself from seizing you, kissing you until you couldn't breathe, sneak his hands under your neatly tucked shirt and bury them in your soft flesh, drawing out more of these damn noises that drove him absolutely crazy.

But, alas, you pulled away to catch your breath. Mattheo's lips chased after yours, and when you evaded him, he dipped down to trail soft pecks along the side of your neck, making you shudder with excitement. His voice vibrated against your vulnerable throat as he spoke. “Look, I'm not great at this kind of thing, but…,” he looked up and you found yourself helplessly lost in his soft brown eyes. “Would it be completely insane if I asked you to be my girlfriend?”

“I think you've never been closer to sanity, Mattheo,” you managed to chuckle before he claimed your lips once more, bruised fingers carding into your hair to pull you close. His teeth grazed your bottom lip as he dipped your head expertly.

“And it's all gone again,” he whispered in between kisses, sighing into your mouth before teasingly biting down on your bottom lip. He chuckled when you slapped the back of his head tenderly and he wiped some blood away from your face that had dribbled there from one of his cuts. His suddenly pensive eyes found yours again, though a teasing smile tugged at his lips as his thumb brushed over your kiss-bitten lips. “Don't worry, your big secret is safe with me. Wouldn't want anyone to know you’re dating the Dark Lord’s son.”

“Actually,” you said, averting your eyes to your hands. Taking his into yours and resting them on your lap, you looked up at him hesitantly. “I'd like not to hide it. If it's okay with you, of course.”

Mattheo seemed to freeze, a frown adorning his beautiful features. “What, really?” he asked, completely taken aback. His thumb was still brushing over your chin, though you were quite sure there were no remnants of blood left.

“Yeah,” you said, somewhat embarrassed by the fervent look on his face. “I mean, why wouldn't I want people to know that I managed to pull Mattheo Riddle?”

With a bitter chuckle, he shook his head. “That's not a brag, princess.”

But the look you gave him was one of utmost earnestness as your digits closed around his bruised up hands and you leaned forward. “It is to me.”

For a moment, all Mattheo could do was stare at you, not quite able to believe what he'd just heard. Your words echoed in his mind, breaking through every wall he'd spend years building, dismantling the armor he wore so tightly around himself. He felt something tighten in his chest- raw and entirely unfamiliar. “Are you… sure?” he asked, his voice quieter than he intended, laced with disbelief. When you nodded your head, a slow, almost disbelieving smile curved his lips, but his eyes shimmered with something deeper, something more vulnerable.

He ran a hand through his hair, laughing softly under his breath as though trying to process that someone like you could actually want to be with someone like him. For once in his life, he didn’t feel like the monster everyone said he was. Mattheo had never felt this soft, and he knew whatever you'd ever ask of him, he'd do it without doubt or hesitation. Because, fuck, he was so in love with you.

When entering the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning, Mattheo almost doubted the events of the last evening had even taken place. If it hadn't been for the sting in his lip. And you. It didn't take him more than a couple of seconds to spot you, sitting on the Gryffindor table next to the red haired Weasley girl. To his great relief, you were smiling as you put jam on your toast and laughed at something she said. Wishing he was close enough to hear the sound, he didn't even realize he had stopped walking until Enzo shoved his shoulder. “What's wrong?”

Before he could dismiss him, you looked up from your toast and somehow, as if by a magnetic force, your gaze landed on him. He'd expected you to give him one of your sweet smiles, maybe, if he was in luck, but you didn't. Instead, you said something to the Weasley girl and rose from your seat, walking along the Gryffindor table and making a beeline for the entrance. For him. Mattheo saw your eyes flicker to Enzo and the rest of his friends, somewhat shyly, and he pushed Enzo away roughly. “Go sit down.” They did without protest.

Mattheo turned back to you as you approached and came to a halt before him, almost indecisively. But then, without a word of greeting, you leaned up and placed your soft lips on his. Mattheo seemed to freeze for the split of a second, but then, both his hands cupped your face, pulled you impossibly closer and dipped you just right to devour you. His tongue slipped into your mouth before you could even register the sudden surge of intensity and you mewled slightly, completely helpless in his hold as his lips claimed yours again and again and again-

“Mr Riddle!”

You shot around violently and your cheeks flushed deep red when you saw Professor McGonnagall standing a few feet from you, hands on her hips and looking absolutely furious. Behind her, you could vaguely make out the gaping faces of students, and a whisper seemed to run through the hall, but Mattheo paid it no mind, nor did he your Transfiguration Professor. You felt his lips peppering kisses along your jaw and slapped the back of his head with a hiss. McGonnagall drew an indignant breath in through her nose, building herself up to her full height- which was quite considerable.

“This is a level of inappropriateness I do not accept from Hogwarts students,” she hissed at Mattheo, though refusing to look him in the eye properly. Mattheo had raised his brows, hands still around your neck as he hovered over you. “Now, really,” said Professor McGonnagall angrily. “Ten points off of Slytherin. And both of you, return to your house tables.”

You quickly pushed Mattheo off, who seemed reluctant to let you go. He gave McGonnagall a sinister glare before pressing one last kiss onto your cheek and smiling at you. “Good morning, princess.” Biting down on your bottom lip, you gave him a sheepish look that made it near impossible for him to walk away from you. But, alas, you turned to walk back to the Gryffindor table that had broken out into hushed whispers and pointed fingers.

As Mattheo strolled along the Slytherin table, he watched you sit down next to the Weasley girl who immediately jumped you with questions. There was an uncertain sensation in his stomach when he saw the way some of the Gryffindors gave you looks of disgust, the girls especially. As if half of them hadn't slept with him already, only for it to be their dirty little secret, and now they dared to point at you, who loved him openly. His jaw clenched when he saw Potter stand up from the table and brush past you without a word, but, as if you'd sensed his irritation, you glanced over and your lips twitched impossibly sweetly.

Sitting down in between Enzo and Theo, he held your gaze for a second before you looked away to address the Weasley girl. When he directed his attention to breakfast, he was instead faced with five sets of raised eyebrows. “So,” said Blaise, barely containing a smirk. “What the fuck happened last night? Must’ve really given her a good time of she's already forgotten that you beat Weasley into an infirmary bed.”

“Shut up,” growled Mattheo, twisting his knife between his fingers and glancing back at you, who seemed to get bombarded with questions by the Weasley girl. “I didn't.”

“Jeez, how’d you manage to soften little miss perfect up then?” said Pansy, also throwing a glance at you before turning back to them. “Can't have been your personality.” She ignored Mattheo's glare and dug into her scrambled eggs, still glancing behind herself every once in a while curiously. Mattheo didn't answer, only leaning back in his chair with the expression of someone who definitely wasn't in the mood for chatting. That couldn't deter his friends, though.

“I've got to know,” grinned Blaise teasingly and pointed his fork at his unwilling interlocutor. “Was this whole thing some sort of grand plan to mess with Weasley and Potter, or did you actually go soft for her?” Mattheo's eyes snapped up at him and his gaze darkened. “Don't you fucking say that to her.” “Oh, so you have!” cooed Blaise and Pansy started to giggle, causing Mattheo to roll his eyes at them.

But the platinum haired boy next to Blaise didn't seem very amused. A sour expression twisted his features as he watched his friend closely, the bacon long forgotten on his plate. “So you're just self-sabotaging for fun now?” Draco said through clenched teeth, his tone causing all heads but Mattheo's to turn. “How long do you think this will last, really? She’s a Gryffindor to her core, Mattheo. She’ll toss you aside the moment you show her who you really are.”

Enzo shot him a very firm look, but Mattheo didn't even bother acknowledging him. Frowning lightly, Enzo looked back at him, maybe to see whether he had spontaneously lost consciousness, but Mattheo only looked over to you, remembering how he'd promised you last night, before you'd slipped back into your common room: no fights tomorrow. He knew you were testing him, it only now became fully clear to him that you'd intentionally opened yourself up to public scrutiny. To get it over with, sure. Because you wanted people to know, fair. But also, because you knew it'd be a test of his restraint.

Not only Enzo stared at Mattheo when the latter chuckled lowly, eyes still locked on your figure as you finished your plate and rose from your seat to be perfectly on time for Arithmancy. He was glad to see that Granger joined you and seemed to strike up a hesitant conversation. Enzo’s eyes flickered between him and you. A slight smile played around his lips. “This was… unexpected. But good for you, mate, she's cute.” Draco scoffed and Mattheo clenched his fists, remembering your sweet smile and the promise he'd given to you.

The only one who’s opinion Mattheo cared about even slightly, as always, was Theo, but Theo did what he did best: silently staring into space and scowling. At any rate, he wasn't too keen to keep on talking about the matter, so he rose from the table. Pansy frowned when he grabbed his back. “You haven't eaten a thing.”

“Oh,” grinned Blaise, “my bet is he wants to be punctual to impress his girlfriend.” His girlfriend. His. The thought made Mattheo's lips twitch involuntarily, and Blaise slammed his hand into the table, grinning. “See? I was right! Look at that smile! Merlin, Mattheo, you're down so bad.”

He was, fucking hell, he was so down bad for you. But he left his friends without another word, approaching the stone steps as even more heads than usual turned after him. A sudden worry churned in his chest. Yes, you were his. But being his brought certain dangers. As long as his friends didn't let anything slip, and as long as you were at Hogwarts, anyway, you were safe from his father at least. But Mattheo knew his father wouldn't be the only one disapproving of your relationship.

Over the course of the next days, the topic of your unlikely relationship with Mattheo was the main issue of interest all around the castle. In the following week, you could barely pass someone in the halls without them sticking their heads together in hushed whispers. Everyone who had missed your kiss at breakfast was now greatly informed about it, in a level of detail you guessed most of them lacked in their exams. Curious, how your private business was more interesting to people than the goblin riots of the fifteenth century and their present implications on wizarding goblin relations, though you couldn't deny that this new gossip was the exact type of thing that would catch people's interest.

The whispering wasn't what bothered you, it was the assumptions made about you, and about Mattheo. Only that Mattheo was used to scrutiny and nasty rumors, which was new territory for you. Many students, for example, seemed to assume you to be in danger, especially those of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff house. Not that their concern wouldn't have been sweet any other day, but it bothered you how people always assumed the worst about Mattheo, now that you had gotten to know the real him.

When you'd relayed these worries to Mattheo one warmer afternoon at the lake when the ice had melted and you could sit on the grass, he'd chuckled appreciatively, calling you his sweet girl for being outraged about how people treated him. He'd said he couldn't be bothered less how they thought of him, but you suspected it was more so that he had gotten used to the worst. You wished others would see him the way you did, but Mattheo didn't exactly make it easy for them either. Not when, anytime someone pointed at the two of you walking together in the halls, he cast them a threatening look and had to be held back by your soft touch.

With some, this had earned you the title of a monster tamer, which bothered you even more than the worried assumptions, but was a great source of amusement for Mattheo. When he'd first heard it from you as you recounted someone using the word with poised lips, he'd laughed outright and shuffled around so his head was in your lap. Getting a hold of your wrist, he'd guided your hand to his hair and practically purred how you'd managed to tame the beast with your incredible sweetness and brilliance. Embarrassingly, you'd blushed, only making his grin widen.

By far the most negative reception was that of your own house. Most Gryffindors considered your relationship with you-know-who’s son a betrayal of house honor. Some seemed to think you superficial, which in turn greatly troubled Mattheo while you only rolled your eyes at it, tugging him back whenever someone made a snide comment.

To your immense surprise, however, Mattheo hadn't gotten into a single fight since his promise, even though he had more material to work with than ever. And, last Tuesday, one of his friends, Lorenzo Berkshire, had even approached you panting as you came from your runes class to get you down to the Great Hall quickly to stop Mattheo from picking a fight with a mouthy Gryffindor sixth year.

Meanwhile, Mattheo had turned into more of a gentleman than you’d ever have imagined. He walked you to class whenever possible, interlocking your fingers, giving you sweet kisses before class, waiting for you afterwards and stealing small moments of affection all over the castle. You were sure you knew every broom cupboard in Hogwarts from the inside by now, as it was his preferred place to drag you in your breaks. As Berkshire snitched you as a thanks for keeping Mattheo in check, he was already planning your date for the following Hogsmeade weekend, sending you into a frenzy whether you even had anything to wear for such an occasion.

Ron had been released from the hospital wing two days after his fight with Mattheo, still littered with bruises and cuts and having incredible trouble chewing, since Mattheo had broken his jaw. When you'd told him, he'd smiled smugly into your hair, you couldn't see it but hear it in his voice as he murmured “too fucking bad for him, then.” Ron wasn't talking to you, and you made no efforts to approach him either, following Hermoine's advice and waiting until he came around to the idea at least a little. Even though you were frustrated at how long even that took.

Harry had been a little more forgiving. After a few days of awkward silent treatment, you'd talked as the last two people in the common room. And after you'd practically written his whole charms homework for him, he found it in himself to forgive you, though he was still disapproving and highly distrustful of your relationship. You, who hadn't expected much more, were merely relieved that you were on speaking terms again and did your best to avoid the topic of Mattheo with him around, trying not to set him off. You hadn't forgotten the confrontation in the Entrance Hall.

Hermoine was easily the most forgiving out of the three. Though she, too, did neither trust nor like Mattheo and was worried for you, she still recognized that it was your decision and trusted your judgement on whether he was a danger to you or not. After countless reassurances, she'd finally stopped awkwardly standing beside you when Mattheo kissed you before and after class, and you were glad about it. Now, as you were walking down the steps on Saturday evening for dinner, she talked to you in a tone that didn't even indicate your previous argument in the slightest.

“And so I told him that goblins have contributed a lot to the field of magical science, at least three times, mind you. And in the test, when asked about the accomplishments of goblins in the wizarding world, he writes about their creative name giving!” Hermoine scoffed incensedly and shook her head as you ascended towards the Entrance Hall. “Seriously, he never listens!”

But before you could answer, Luna Lovegood approached you up the steps against the wave of Gryffindors walking in the opposite direction. Slightly out of breath, she came to a halt before the two of you and directed her large eyes at you. “Professor Dumbledore wants to see you in his office.”

You exchanged an incredulous look with Hermoine and frowned. “Why?”

Luna shrugged, her voice dreamy. “I think your new boyfriend got into a fight.” Seemingly unaware about your sudden intake of breath, she smiled, as if all was said, and turned around to follow the string of students approaching the Great Hall, leaving you shocked. You'd known the peace wouldn't last forever. But Mattheo could handle himself. How could the fight have been so bad that you were called to Dumbledore’s office? Was he hurt badly?

Just when you were about to start hyperventilating, you felt Hermoine's hand on your shoulder. She looked serious, but not angry. “Dumbledore’s office, remember?” You nodded, bidded Hermoine goodbye and sifted through the students, heart leaping to your chest in worry as you hurried to the headmaster’s office. What on earth could he have done this time?

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#harry potter #harry potter x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo fluff #mattheo imagine #mattheo angst #mattheo series

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loveafterdeath-if · 2 months ago

Note

Yeah, similarly to what another anon said, I was kinda hoping for this to be a story about moving on after losing a lived one, specifically your partner, which I thought was a beautiful and heartbreaking concept, and while we did get that in the first few chapters, it feels like this plot twist kind of defeats the whole point.

Though, unlike the other anon, I personally will probably continue reading because I think you are an amazing writer and because I love Ekissa. The only thing that makes me not sure about continuing is that the situation is a bit awkward, makes me feel a bit uncomfortable, so I was wondering about how you were going to manage it? Because MCs moving on process obviously gets cut short, but for those of us who are gonna romance someone else, we still need to finish that process, and one important thing when moving on from an ex is time apart, especially for one you were grieving not so long ago. Otherwise old feelings, nostalgia and a lot of other emotions get mixed up and that would probably lead to confusion. (Sorry, for the long paragraph, just a bit worried about how this is gonna continue)

It's heavy spoiler territory, but I'll have to address this for anon. And it'll be a long-ass response, so be prepared,

You are right about one thing, the whole plot falls apart if El is alive, doesn't it? And like someone said in the LAD discord "why love after death then". They didn't phrase it exactly like that, but you know what I mean. The plot does start with El, but it won't end with them. Idk how to explain without giving away too much, lol

There are clues that El isn't really dead in the first chapters. The flowers MC receives, and now players know El was the one offering them. The doc and Athiel never talk about death when discussing El. MC doesn't have the right to go to the funeral or even see El's body. Even L being called by Juliet at the beginning will have its importance. They're small details, nothing too obvious, but they're here.

I'll be honest, sometimes when writing Athiel talking with MC, I struggled to remember El wasn't dead because I tried to make it look and feel like El was dead, so I drowned a bit in that department.

The characters might seem like a lot, but each has their own purpose, big or small. Some are a breath of fresh air for MC since they're not caught up in all the drama and can be objective. Others are here because they'll play an important role later. Then there are those who serve as reminders of the past with El (like the neighbors). And some are just like those background characters in anime; you don't even see their features because they're just there to serve a small purpose and keep the intrigue going. They come and go.

Sorry, I'm talking too much. So how I'll manage it, is by—and it's where it's gonna get tricky—make MC aware of it as soon as possible. There will be a reunion between MC and El. The tricky part is showing that El won't remember MC, no matter how much/if the MC tries to jog their memory.

The past El is dead; the memories won't come back, and if any fragments do resurface, El won't feel the love they once had. It's more like a ghost of memories; their body remember, but it's more mechanical than actual feelings. Like an old habit that won't go.

MC will have to grieve the old El anyway, even with them actually alive.

In El's route, it'll be all about falling in love again, getting them out of this toxic relationship with their mother, helping them learn to love themself again, and living with someone who is El but not the El you used to know. They have trauma, the confidence they once had is gone, they're insecure and they're more reserved than before.

Juliet is like, the first villain before introducing the final boss. What I wanted to do was weave two kinda plots in the same book because I didn't want to make two separate books. Love After Death is Love After Death for a reason. The plan is to make the players realize that El wasn't the focus of this book in the first place.

I hope there won't have any inconsistencies in this story, but if you find any plot holes, you're free to let me know, and I'll do my best to improve. It's only with advice and constructive critique that I can do so. I'm sure there are blind spots I won't see right away; I'm only human😭

#heavy spoilers #inbox #love after death #LAD-if

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shocymer · 1 year ago

Text

Want me to teach you?

"Starting off as journalism clubs buddies, you never know how your relationship will take turns after he offered to give you a lesson."

Pairing : Yunho x f!reader

Word counts : 2.3k

Contents & warnings : smut mdni! , college AU, gamer yunho, oral (receiving), size kink, big dick! yunho, slightly pussy edging, overstimulation, semi public sex, unprotected sex, creampie.

“There’s something between you and her. I mean like you’re in relationship or..?” Wooyoung asked him carefully.

Yunho’s eyes goes widen. He never thought of dating you in the first place. After breaking up with his longtime ex lover, he completely avoided the topic of romance. He’d been dating his ex since high school. But at the certain time they’re in college, she became a campus crush and immediately dumped him.

He let out a soft chuckle in response, “How could that be?”

“Isn’t it obvious? The atmosphere.. ehhm kinda heavy around you two.” Seonghwa suddenly chimed in while his finger moved in circle towards Yunho.

He raised his eyebrow, a thin smile form his lips after ridiculed by them.

“Nah we’re not. We’re just friends, that’s all.”

To be honest, he wasn't that surprise when they asked about it. It all started from two months before. You accidentally took a glance on Yunho’s phone. He’s immersed in Detroit: Become Human walkthrough video while waiting for other faculty journalism club’s member to come.

Then you happened to be walking behind him before taking a seat. “Oh you’re into that game too?”

“I want to give it a try.” He turn at you for a moment before his eyes glued back to the screen. “But I still figure it out whether this one worth it or not.”

You crossed your arms then slightly lean towards him in attempt to get a better view of the video. “Hmm.. It’s a shame if you know most of the plot through this. Like I want you to experience the true ending by your own choices.”

“Wait, you ever played this?” Surprised that you’re into gaming stuff.

“I did, but on PC. I don’t know if there’s any differences if you play it on your console.” You lean away from him.

Now, he’s more interested in you and leaving the video played alone in the background. Distracted by your little fingers fidgeting on the back of your phone unconsciously, as both of you deep in talk. He’s wondering why is it so small and weirdly cute. Then he glanced back to you.

“So you’re not used to play with the controller right?”

You nod at him, “yeah, last time I try it when I was in 7th grade or something. The grip was uncomfortable. Right after that, I decided PC is much more easier.” You paused for a second, “but sometimes I would love to try it again.”

He chuckled seems to know the reasons why. Proceed to clear his throat before he answered you back, “Want me to teach you?”

Deep sighed left from your mouth, “I’m pretty sure you’ll be mad at me the second we’re in.”

“No no, definitely not. I got patience as deep as the ocean. You sure know that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right, definitely a saint in your past life.”

He laughed at your remark and how annoyed you’re right now. You smacked his arm, telling him to stop. Not too long, both of you getting ready for the club’s meeting as everyone already gathered in.

You thought he’d be joking. He never brought that idea again after the last conversation with you. He occasionally texted you only about the club’s activity or college stuff. Until a week after, he slide a brand new box of controller towards you.

“Better started now or never.” He slightly tilted his head, pointing to where the box landed.

“Yunho, you don’t need to buy me this. I- like just tell me when you’re-”

“Shhh.. save that nagging for later.” His delicate hand started to unbox it with care. Then he handed it to you.

It’s mostly dominated with white and soft blue colors on the side. Plus the kitty paw shaped the thumb grip, make it seems like a customized controller. You reach it in fascination. That’s super cute. Both of you think the same way, but completely on different matters.

Yunho kept looking at your fingers which is nicely wrapped the controller. His eyes following the direction of your little thumbs that moving uncoordinatedly, mimicking the way you’re gonna use it in game. Then, his gaze turn to your lips, looking at how cute and plump it is.

He shook his head, after that he explained to you about it’s feature, how to turn it on and how to charge it. You listen to him just like in one of your lectures. Remembering everything that he told you while nodding at the same time.

“Thanks Yunho, that’s so cute.” You looked at him in guilty. “I bet this was expensive right?”

“Well, actually not that much. I just want you to use it more if it looks like that.” He flicked your forehead. “This is my own wish. Don’t ever feel bad about it, okay?”

After that day, you spent almost every weekend playing co-op game with him. He patiently guided you from the voice chat. Dealing with how forgetful you are and a lot of complaints about your sore fingers. With that antics of yours, he only let out small chuckle or teasing you even more.

On the weekday, sometimes you met him in the club’s room. Mostly during the meeting or when you do the project. The moment you asked him to check your works, he’ll lean over from your behind and randomly put his hand on top of yours while the other hand is scrolling the mouse. There’s also a moment he covered the shelf corner with his hand when your head nearly bump it or he’ll immediately fetched the things you needed where it’s difficult for you to reach.

You never realize that, but not with your other two friends. Seonghwa and Wooyoung, they keep exchange glances across the room whenever Yunho and you act like a new pair of lovers. They’re a hundred percent sure sensing something more than platonic relationship, when the actual truth is not. There’s nothing between you two, yet.

⁠✧

It's 3 days before the exam period. The faculty journalism club already in chaos for past few weeks. They’re divided into two teams. First team is responsible with the faculty website news update, and here you are in the second team handling the semester end magazine. Your leader pushed the deadline earlier hoping the only left to do is printed it out at the end of exam day.

Your tired ass have been proofreading for solid three hours non-stop. Flipping through the revision sheet and going back to the laptop. Luckily you don’t have any class today. All of you agreed to finished it today. But alas, there’s only four of you left, and making it worse the other two need to leave too.

“Shit, I forgot to consult my thesis. I’ll be back at evening!” Seonghwa barging out in hurry. No wonder he’s literally your senior a year above you.

Not too long, Wooyoung following around as he got notification with a sudden class at noon. He’s cursing along the way. Of course all of you haunted with the leader’s wrath, considering how strict he is. You still remembered the looks on his face when the last project failed.

There’s only Yunho and you left alone. Silence along the typing sounds are the only sound that filled the room. At this exact time, most of the clubs room are empty. Either everyone still in the class or diving in the library preparing for the exam.

The work flow with him lasted for more than an hour. He’s occasionally sipping his iced coffee while working on it. He took the editing part, after that passed it on to you. But this time, his hand slipped, nudging the cup of his coffee. He could save it, but not with your pile of revision papers. It scattered all over the floor.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry.” He immediately crouched down as you do the same to collect the papers.

While collecting it in a rush, your fingertips brushing the back of his hand. Your face only a few inches from his side, making him shiver from the feeling of your warm breath against his skin. Then he turn to face you, staring deep into your eyes. Your heartbeat increase rapidly as he turning his hand to hold yours. His gaze shifted from your eyes to your small plumped lips.

When the tip of your noses touched, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You crushed his lips, kissing him hungrily. He pulled you in, till his back hit against the wall only to bring you on top of his lap while the kiss still not broken. He peeled off his denim jacket as the temperature keep raising between you two.

Gasping for some air, you pull out from the kiss. His index finger caress your cheek trailing down to you lips. You open your mouth to let it in wrestling around with your tongue. He let out small groaned at the sight of it. “I always curious how it taste like.” He lean in to you, whispering into your ears, “and that’s incredibly sweet.”

He picked you without a warning, gives you a quick kiss before plopping you down to the couch, then closed the curtains in swift motion.

Now he’s back to you, nibbling the nape of your neck, sucking on it, sometimes sunk his teeth beneath your skin. You’re squirming under him, gripping onto his hair as the sensation wash over you. He looked up to you, searching for your permission to go lower.

You nodded at him. He’s devouring your lips again while his hand pushed up your tight knee-length skirt, revealing wet trace over your panties. His fingers caress your clothed clit, moved in circular motion. You moaned between the kisses, you can feel he’s smirking on top of your lips.

He moved the panties to the side, then dip his finger into your folds. He chuckled, “you’re already this wet hmm?” Then he’s slipping in another finger, makes you gasped at how full it is inside. At first, his fingers moved back and forth slowly, but over time it’s moving faster making squelched noises due to how wet your pussy is.

He's amused by looking at the face you make right now, moaning out his name when you almost at the edge. He’s stopped in the middle of it, pulled out his fingers. “It’s not enough if it just like that.” He's immediately going down to yank out your panties, then sticking his third fingers into you, moving abruptly while his tongue flicking your clit, sucking on it hungrily. You grip onto his hair tighter, only strangle moan left out from your mouth before his another hand tried to cover it. You buckled your hip as you reaching out the orgasm, biting the palm of his hand trying to stifle your moan. He flicked his tongue few times makes your body spasm due to overstimulation. When you chasing down from it, he licked clean your pussy, then going back to kiss you, giving the taste of yours.

He take a step back, unbuttoning his jeans then pulled down the zipper, letting his cock sprung out from his brief. You took a peek on it with your half lidded eyes, still recovering from the last orgasm. It looks swollen, the unbelievable girth with it’s veins pop visibly, and the tip is glistening with the pre cum. He's stroking it for few times before lining it on your entrance. The tip is slowly in, you can feel the pain as it bigger than your thought.

He's leaning down to you, holding your hands, then trailing kisses on your neck hoping you to relaxes. “I’m sorry is it hurting that much?” He’s stroking your hair while looking into your eyes. “Not.. that much.” You answered him in teary eyes. He kisses your forehead then to your eyes. “It’s a still little bit more baby, can you take it?” You nodding at him. When it’s all in, he let it still for a moment so you get used to it. Then he start moving slowly while his hand unbuttoned your shirt, cupping your breast and slightly fondle it.

He thrusting it faster after he hear you moan in pleasure. His hand grip your waist, while the other hand busy teasing your clit. Your pussy tightened at every deep thrust, making him groaned at the feels. His hips moved erratically after pressing his hand on your stomach, feeling the bulge whenever his cock in you completely. Your nails digging in his clothed back as you feel the knot in your stomach. You squirted over him, making a mess on his shirt. He didn’t stop while your walls clenching on his cock, “you felt so good baby.” After few thrusts he filled your cunt, milking his balls empty. He pulled it out, then plopping himself beside you. Both of you breathing heavily while staring at each other. After realizing it, both of you laughing at how messy you’re right now.

⁠✧

“I’m baaack!” Wooyoung slammed the door open, his eyes goes widen at the sight of you two.

“Aren’t you guys tired? You didn’t move an inches since I left.” He saw you typing furiously on your laptop, meanwhile Yunho sorting out the papers beside you.

Yunho turned to him, “actually I need some snacks.” He gets up from his chair, then put his arms around Wooyoung’s shoulder.

Before they go, Wooyoung looked at you. “You don’t need anything? Or maybe you need some fresh air, you can go with Yunho instead. I’ll continue the rest.”

“I’m fine.” You paused for a second, “uhm.. well, maybe I want a smoothie.”

“Okay got it!” he gives an okay sign to you, then dragged Yunho along out of the club room. Yunho stopped his step, “wait I think I left something.” He ran back to the clubs room.

When he got there, he whispered something to you, “After this, do you still want me to teach you? My lesson isn’t done yet.” You flinched at his sudden peck on your lips. He smiled cheekily while leaving you speechless alone, squirming on your seat as you feel his juice spilled down over your thigh.

#pirateeznet #wonderlandnet #cromernet #jeong yunho #jeong yunho x reader #ateez smut #yunho smut #ateez fics #ateez fic #yunho x reader #ateez x reader #ateez hard hours #yunho hard hours #ateez fanfic #kpop fanfic #shocymer

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evnseokz · 9 months ago

Text

{ ☆ breaking the ice - p.sh }

pairing: closed off! sunghoon x f. reader

contents: somewhat reserved sunghoon (at first), lowk down bad sunghoon, jake is an extra in this, kind of typical guy saves girl party scene, smut at the end, dry humping, making out, a little fluff, mostly just sappy romance, maybe slight angst if you squint

based off this request here

a.n: tysm anon for the request!! i hope i did it justice. i focused a lot on the plot and dialogue in this one, w.c. 2.6k

MINORS DNI

sunghoon had always been the silent anchor of his friend group, the one who seemed to glide through life with an effortless coldness that both intrigued and confused those around him. He rarely piped up, preferring to observe from the background, his thoughts hidden behind a mask of nonchalance. it wasn’t that he didn't care; rather, he found solace in the quietude of his own company.

up until you entered the scene, invited by his friend jake for a casual lunch that would unknowingly disrupt his carefully maintained solitude. at first, sunghoon regarded you with mild indifference, his responses curt as you attempted to chip away at his icy exterior. but as the days stretched on, you began to see each other more often, and your laughter filled the spaces he had always left empty. something in him began to shift, tugging at the corners of his guarded heart.

——

flash forward to a couple weeks later, jake was throwing an afterparty for some event he held previously that had to do with his band. he held the party at his house, as it was big enough to withstand the amount of people he invited. sunghoon was standing, leaning against the wall of the crowded abode, his drink in his hand as he scanned the room. laughter and music mingled in the air, but his focus was solely on you. you were standing by the kitchen island, chatting animatedly, a bright smile lighting up your face. but it wasn’t just your smile that held his attention; it was also the guy next to you.

“come on, just a little more fun, right?” the guy said, his fingers brushing against your arm in a way that made sunghoon’s blood boil. sunghoon recognized this guy, everyone knew he had a reputation as a smooth talker and troublemaker. the kind of guy who toyed with people like you for fun. “maybe we should just stay here?” you replied, your tone playful but laced with uncertainty. sunghoon’s heart raced at the sight of you inching away from the kitchen. “aw, don't be like that,” the guy laughed, leaning in closer. “i promise it’ll be worth it.”

sunghoon could see you visibly stiffen, clearly uncomfortable with the situation, and he couldn’t take it anymore. ‘hey!” he pushed off the wall, his legs carrying him across the room with determination. “what’s going on here?” you turned, surprise flickering in your eyes. how long had he been watching you? “sunghoon! we were just—“ “just what?” he interrupted, trying to keep his voice steady. “you were about to go... where?”

“just to the bathroom,” the guy interrupted with a smirk. “no harm done.” “yeah, well, its not a good idea,” sunghoon shot back, stepping between you and the guy. “you don't need to follow her, man. she can find it on her own.” “relax, it’s just a quick walk,” the guy said, crossing his arms, his bravado oozing. sunghoon felt the heat rise to his cheeks. “not with you. not ever,” he spewed. you looked between the two, confusion mixing with concern. “sunghoon, it’s fine. really,” you say, seemingly trying to ease his growing frustration.

“no, its not fine,” he insisted, his voice rising slightly. this is probably the most you’d ever heard him talk. “you don’t know what they say about this guy; he’s bad news y/n.” sunghoon pleads with you. the guy chuckled, but it was an empty sound. “a little jealous, huh? cute." “call it what you want,” sunghoon said, his gaze locked on you. “but im not letting you walk away with him. not like this.” your expression shifted, realization drawing. “sunghoon, i appreciate it, but i can handle myself.”

“maybe you can, but i don't trust him.” the words spilled out, raw and desperate. “you deserve better than some guy who only sees you as a piece of meat.” a silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken words. sunghoon took a breath, his heart racing. “i want to be the one who gets to know you. not him. you’re worth more than this.” your gaze softened, and for the first time, sunghoon saw something flicker in your eyes—maybe understanding, maybe something more.

“okay,” you said softly. “let’s stay here, then.” sunghoon exhaled, relief flooding his body, but he didn’t take his eyes off the guy who was still lingering around. “and you can back off.” his gaze stern as he looked him in the eyes. the guy rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of wariness now. “fine, whatever. your loss." he spoke childishly as he walked away. sunghoon turned to you, searching your face. “i meant what i said,” he said softly. “i know,” you replied, a hint of a smile creeping in on your face. “thank you for stepping in.”

“i just—“ he hesitated, heart pounding with a mix of fear and hope. “i don't want to lose you to guys like him. i want to be the one you trust.” your expression shifted again, this time filled with something deeper. “then show me. show me you’re the one.” sunghoon nodded, feeling a spark of courage ignite within him. “i will. just give me a chance.” he took your hands in his as he spoke, his gaze softening as he looked you in the eyes.

“i never dubbed you as the jealous type,” you giggled, eyes gleaming up at sunghoon. one of his hands reached behind his neck to scratch nervously. “me neither,” he laughs with you. silence falls upon you two, awkwardness suddenly seeping in. you take a sip of your drink, and look around the room. not quite sure what to do next. sunghoon rocks on the balls of his feet, also unsure of the next move he should make. suddenly, a very tipsy jake stumbles his way over to the two of you. “hey guys! what’re you up toooo,” his words slur slightly as he speaks, placing himself in between the two of you, an arm thrown around each of your shoulders. you and sunghoon glance at each other nervously, not sure what to say. “uh, i think we’re actually about to head out!” sunghoon says quickly, pursing his lips afterwards. you nod in agreement as jake lets out a loud whine. “alreadyyyyy?!” he pouts. sunghoon laughs at his friend before pulling him off of your shoulders. he looks him in the face and grabs the red solo cup in his hand, and setting it on the counter. “i think you should call it a night too,” he says. jake shakes his head no before stumbling off again.

sunghoon pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers, clearly disappointed in his friend. “he’ll crash eventually,” you snicker. sunghoon laughs with you before reaching out and grabbing your hand in his. “so, about heading out?” he asks, and all you have to do is nod before he’s pulling you through the sea of people and out the front door. “did you drive?” he asks. you shake your head no. “i took an uber,” you reply. sunghoon nods in satisfaction. he rocks on the balls of his feet again, suddenly becoming hyperaware of the fact that you are alone together right now. “do you maybe wanna come back to mine?” he asks, his voice shaking with nerves. “i’d very much like that, yes,” you beam up at him. he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding before beckoning you to follow him to his car. he opens the passenger door for you, letting you sit down before leaning across you to buckle you in. your breath hitches in your throat at the proximity, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils as he stands back up. “t-thank you,” you say coyly, toying with the hem of your skirt. sunghoon nods a quick no problem before shutting the door and walking around to get in the driver's seat.

the ride to sunghoons apartment is quiet. sunghoon focused on the road in front of him while you watched the night sky out of the window. once pulled up to his place, he unbuckles and gets out of the car, headed over to the passenger side. you unbuckle your seatbelt before he even opens the door, afraid his smell in such close proximity to you will drive you wild. once the door is open, you scurry out of the car, almost tripping in the process, but luckily sunghoon was able to grab your arm, steadying you. “easy there; don't want you getting hurt,” he says, playfulness in his tone. you curse yourself for immediately blushing at his words. he closes the car door before heading into the main doors of his apartment building. you follow along closely behind him. he stopped in front of the elevator, pressing the up button. now its your turn to sway on the balls of your feet. after what feels like forever, the elevator finally dings, and you both enter. you watch sunghoon as he presses the number three button. the doors close, and here you guys are again, in awkward silence.

you stand next to each other as the elevator moves between floors, and you let your gaze fall upon the boy next to you. you had always found sunghoon attractive, but that attraction has skyrocketed since his whole hero moment at the party. the elevator dinging pulls you out of your trance, head snapping forward. sunghoon let you step out first; your heart was racing. you walked beside him as he guided you to his apartment, his casual confidence making your pulse quicken even more. “so, this is your place?” you ask, glancing around as you approached the door. “yeah, just a simple apartment,’ he replied, smiling. he opens the door and gestures for you to enter. “make yourself at home,” he beams, following in behind you.

you looked around the place in front of you, taking in the modern decor and the faint woodsy scent that lingered in the air. “it’s nice. cozy,” you breathed. sunghoon chuckled, closing the door behind him. “cozy is the goal. would you like something to drink?” he asks. “water is fine,” you smiled to him, watching as he moved around the kitchen. as he filled two glasses, you couldn’t help but admire the way he moved with ease, letting your gaze fall to the way his back muscles tensed as he moved. he turned to face you, leaning against the counter, a playful smile on his lips. “so, where should we start?” he trails off nervously. “well, what do you wanna know?” you reply. his eyes shine as he looks at you, “anything. everything.” heat rushes to your cheeks as you look at him, his desire to know more about you sending butterflies straight to your tummy.

“well… one time i tripped and fell into a fountain during a school trip,” sunghoons laughter echoed through the room. “oh no! did you get wet?” he questioned through his chuckles. “absolutely drenched, i had to walk around the rest of the day in a soggy shirt.” he leaned closer, his eyes sparkling. “i think that’s hilarious; i wish i could’ve seen it.” you both laugh for a moment before silence falls upon you again. you look at him, “aren’t you gonna tell me one of your embarrassing moments?” a nervous chuckle leaves his lips, a sheepish grin forming on his face. “once i thought i was being smooth at a party and accidentally spilled my drink all over someone. turns out, it was the birthday girl.” your laughter floods sunghoons ears, his heart swelling at the sight of the smile on your face. “that’s definitely pretty embarrassing!” you continue to giggle, teasing him slightly.

he begins to move closer as you laugh, the air between you two shifting. “yeah, i wasn’t very popular that night,” he says, his voice softening. “but i guess i can be a little clumsy.” “maybe it’s just because you’re too busy being charming,” you say to him, meeting his gaze. he took another step towards you, his expression suddenly serious. “i don’t want to mess this up, you know?” desperation in his voice. “mess what up?” the sudden topic change is confusing you. “this,” he says, glancing at the space between you two, then back to your eyes. “us.” the weight of his words hung in the air, and you could feel a thrill run through you. “i don’t think you could mess it up.” your chest heaves as you look up at him. anticipation is coursing through your bones. “really?” he asks, stepping even closer, your breaths mingling. “what if i wanted to kiss you right now?” your pulse quickened. you contemplate for a second on what to do, but quickly come up with an answer. “then you should.”

sunghoon hesitated for a moment, searching your eyes for reassurance. then, without breaking eye contact, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. the kiss was tentative at first, a soft exploration that quickly turned heated. you melted into him, your hands finding their way to his hair as his fell to your waist. his tongue swiped along your bottom lip, asking for entry, which you granted. your saliva mixing as you moaned into his mouth. the two of you shuffled around the room as you kissed. finding yourself in front of his couch, he goes to sit down, and you follow, only breaking away for a split second as you straddle his lap before connecting your lips again. his hands are resting on your hips, and you lightly grind down on his lap, earning a groan from him. you bite at his bottom lip, pulling slightly before letting go, breaking the kiss, but only so you could continue to pepper kisses down his jaw and neck.

he moved his neck, giving you more access as you bit and sucked slightly on the skin. small groans left his mouth, his hands beginning to guide your body on his clothed erection. a moan fell past your lips at the sensation, your assault to his neck stopping as you focused on the pleasure you’re feeling between your legs. you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning your forehead against his as he continues to grind you on his lap. small pants are coming from your mouth, as well as groans from his. he drops his head down, taking his turn to trail kisses along the exposed skin of your collarbones and chest. you roll your head back, a moan leaving your lips. one of sunghoons hands travels up to your face, bringing you back to lean against him, fingers caressing your cheek ever so slightly. you lean into his touch, whines leaving your lips as you chase your high. his hand falls back down to your hip, helping you in quickening your pace. the texture of his jeans hitting your clit in just the right spot to send you over the edge, your body trembles as your high washes over you, head thrown back as sunghoon helps you ride it out. his own orgasm followed shortly after.

both of you are a panting mess, and sunghoon can’t help but hold you tight against him, hugging you gently. you tighten your arms around him, enjoying the comfort of the boy in front of you. you pull away for a moment to look eachother in the eyes. a smile forms on both of your lips as you chuckle breathlessly. sunghoon is the first to speak. “that was. wow” you giggle at his words, fingertips fiddling with the hairs at the base of his neck. “i think we need to do that again sometime, maybe with less clothes,” you joke. sunghoon is smiling from ear to ear, thinking about how lucky he is to have you here right now. “maybe so. but how about a proper date first?” he says. and you nod eagerly.

“i’d like that.”

…

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