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#more than that usually has too much filler
3gremlins · 9 months
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obviously it's early yet and there have only been 2 episodes but so far i am underwhelmed by the percy jackson tv show. thoughts behind cut (i guess very mild spoilers but nothing big)
mostly b/c every time it uses cgi fx the lighting gets DULL AF and terrible and i am begging disney etc to just pay for lighting people and practical effects/mixture of cgi and practical so it can be lit properly and not rely on making everything dark to hide shitty looking composition with weird flattening color grading (the actual models don't look that bad, they're just badly composited. like let a dramatic rim light enter your life, fam, i am begging you).
The props also look a little cheap? Esp in the capture the flag war scene, they all look/sound like plastic with little to make it seem like they're not (also the fit on the helmets was kinda meh, but i realize this is nitpicky).
it just added to making the show look cheap in a way it def shouldn't be b/c the mouse has so much freaking money. idk, it feels like they got a meager budget for a thing that deserves a GoT or at least a Mandalorian/SW budget tbh (orrrrrr i wish they'd just done a cool animated show in the style of the opening/closing credits but obviously that would be more expensive and the house of mouse are cowards T.T)
also the writing has been a lot of "tell instead of show" exposition so far which makes for not so great tv (it would have been much cooler to see the luke/thalia/anabeth bg stuff as a flashback instead of just having luke explain it on screen- stuff like that. Which is probably a budget/direction issue and less of a writing issue tbf). More characterization in general- like it just feels a little rushed like they were trying to hit major plot points faster (esp with the inter god house relations).
It also feels like someone told Jason Mantzoukas to dial it back and so he feels weirdly restrained as mr.d (a very strange choice imho). Like you hire him to be loud and a little obnoxious and i'm not sure about this directing choice for this character (this is sort of minor but it contributed to the first 2 eps feeling overall kinda muted?)
Book 1 is the weakest book by far tho so probably season 1 will be the weakest since it's an adaptation of that but I thought maybe they'd be able to fix some of the issues since Riordan has more direct control over that with this adaptation. Like move some plot points around/character narratives to make it a little more dynamic and make us care about more of the main characters sooner.
it also feels like it's missing a little bit of that rick riordan is a huge classics/mythology nerd DEEP CUT references that are in the books (we got a little with that one kid talking about the goddess of failure but not really enough)
the casting is great tho and maybe it will get rolling as the season goes on, i will keep watching for sure. I'm just sad it wasn't better b/c now I'm not going to be able to convince my partner to read the books lol. He already read the Magnus Chase books which he liked, but he's afraid of the PJ books b/c the first few aren't as good/were written earlier
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beiibeiii · 2 months
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theres no one left to blame but me
husband!arlecchino x wife!reader wlw smut
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a long awaited and requested continuation / part 2 of cold nights !
tw : fluff/comfort, soft-ish arle, happy ending :), she apologies, rushed smut near the end, service top-ish arle, arle has a cock, angsty near the start, little bit of crying out of relief?, icl there is so much filler, not proof read, sorry this took ages to post sob
art creds : nuiilar on twt
6.3k words
the morning after, your eyelids flutter open. the sunlight was peeking through the curtains, onto the white bedsheets. you feel disoriented and completely out of it. you found yourself in a warm, comfortable bed. a contrast to where you remember you rested last night. you found yourself in your shared room.. except, it hadn't really been shared at all lately. as memories of last night start to cloud your mind, you immediately sit up and turn to your right.
to your disappointment, the other side of the bed was empty.. as usual. you feel like a fool for getting your hopes up. the fact she was too prideful enough to show her face to you, made your already existing pit of emptiness dig deeper into you heart. or so thats what you thought.
perhaps it was because you had drained most of your sorrows out last night.
with an exhausted sigh you ran a hand through your hair as your head lowered to idly stare down at the covers. the bedsheets were intoxicated with arlecchino's sickening cologne, even though she hadn't even been here in a while. her cologne made your head spin. you furrow your eyebrows as you sat in the dark room. your eyes glance at the clock on the bedside table. it was 6:17am. arlecchino would of left around an hour ago already..
shame, she didn't even leave a note or anything to apologise.
you don't feel like doing anything today. you just wanted to stay in bed and drown yourself in your worries for the whole day. you feel your lips curl into a frown knowing you will probably have to continue the day alone again. you force yourself off the cozy bed. your legs feel shaky.. you feel light headed as your vision blurs into momentary darkness as you stood up. god, had she really affected you that much? .
you lightly swing the door open and hazily walk into the long hallway. the hallway seemed to stretch on far more than you recalled it to. your eyes glaze over memorable photos of you and arlecchino etched onto the wall. golden frames bordering the beautiful person arlecchino used to be. you pass down the gallery of these, now, lost memories, the connection of these precious memories you used to hold so close to your heart, now feels like a lost, distant dream you yearn for.
you felt nauseous as reality dawns upon you. the truth weighing down into your already crushed heart. the memories flooding into you all at once did no good for you. each photo carried a different, loving memory from when arlecchino was genuinely.. peruere.
your head ached from the overload of contrasting feelings. the passion she once invested in you had vanished along with her love for you, it seemed. the flames she bares that once ignited your vulnerable heart, is forever extinguished. the arlecchino you once knew and loved, had faded into the chambers of her own cold, restricted heart. you couldn’t recognise her anymore.
you lazily dragged yourself down the stairs to avoid any signs of her. as you do, you could smell pancakes being cooked in the kitchen. you assume it's just another house maid. you tiredly walk in with your head lowered, not bothering to look up to see who it was, as you had already, mentally, came up with your final verdict.
you sit in the dining room, just passing kitchen and whoever was in there. you were too clouded to even bother figuring out who it was. you rest your elbow on the table and your chin in your palm. your eyes casted down on the table. suddenly, a small stack of pancakes with no toppings on them whatsoever was slid in front of you. you knew exactly who it was.
arlecchino's gaze rolled over your face as she slid you the plate. her eyes narrowed, they were still as cold as ever. she knew you clearly hadn't had a good night of sleep. your expression was weary and your face puffy. a sharp pang of remorse took ahold of her once more. she couldn't bare to see the sight of you, completely drained of all happiness, because of her. she knew she couldn't drag this on any longer.
she gently place the silverware on the side of the plate. you noticed the gleam of her ring shining under light for a moment. your eyebrows furrow slightly. she wore the ring you brought her. it gave you a slight sense of relief. yet you still don't dare to look at her face. not yet at least.
"good morning, my dear." her voice echoed slightly through the dining room.
you purse your lips at her words. you can't bring yourself to say 'good morning' back. if it were a good morning, then you would probably still be in bed in her arms. your gaze doesn't wander away from the pancakes in front of you. you feel as she pulls away from behind you to take a seat in front of you with her own plate of pancakes. arlecchino subtly glances at you before taking a bite of her warm, plain pancakes. the silence was deafening. it only raised the tension in the air. deciding to break the ice, she spoke again. her expression was neutral.
"i made pancakes.." she mused once more, as if she wasn't stating the obvious. she really didn't know how to initiate a conversation with you. especially after last night.
you could tell in her voice she was trying hard. you felt your heart pick it's self up at the thought of her attempt to make breakfast and start a conversation. you didn't want to keep being mad at her. hell, you weren't even supposed to be mad at her to begin with. you decided to nod after a long pause of silence. picking up your utensils to start eating the plain pancakes.
despite all of that, you still didn't have the courage to look her in the face.
before you knew it, you both had already finished eating. you didn't want to admit it but you missed her cooking. even if it was plain and tasteless. you both hadn't exchanged a word once. arlecchino couldn't take it anymore. she didn't want to see this distraught look on your face any longer. she leans over the table, her hand firmly, yet so gently, lifting your chin up.
"please, look at me. i cannot stand seeing you like this.." your breath hitches quietly at her sudden action. her words have a hint of softness and desperation in them. her gaze is as firm yet as gentle as her touch. your eyes gaze into her crossed pupils. you find yourself lost in her iris. mesmerising you.
"arle.." you utter quietly under your breath.
"let me make it up to you." she almost pleads. her eyebrows are furrowed, taking in all of your beautiful features. she had to admit, it had been a while since she last saw you properly and so close like this. you feel your throat tighten, her words tugging at your heart strings.
you don't know whether to trust her words anymore. especially after she had been hanging around that new fatui recruit recently. her hand falls from your chin yet your head still stays up to look at her. her rough, blackened hands hold your soft ones. firmly giving it a little squeeze.
"i was wrong. let me take you out to dinner tonight. i promise, i will discard any worries you have." her voice wasn't soft, but nor was it cold. you knew she was never good with expressing her emotions. you feel weary of her proposal. the cool ring you had brought for her was against your hand. the gentle look in her eyes make you give into her pleads. you hesitantly replied after a moment of contemplation.
"okay. i.. will let you take me out for dinner." you reply quietly. your gaze lowering in slight embarrassment. now you really couldn't back out of this. she nods as she hums in response. getting out of her seat to carefully pull you out of your seat. embracing your body in her warm arms, pushing your head against her chest. the smell of her cologne was more prominent than ever.
you felt relief course through your body. the scene of her no longer sickened you. your hands cling onto the t-shirt she's wearing, squeezing the fabric as you feel tears starting to be forced out of your eyes again. her hands reassuringly stroke your hair, her fingertips getting lost in each strand.
"i apologise, my dear. i was wrong." she whispers softly yet hesitantly. all tension that was in the air had disappeared. arlecchino doesn't know if she's comforting you correctly. the feeling just felt so foreign to her. in all honesty, it hurt her to see you like this. she wanted to take your pain away from you. she lets you cry it out in her chest. whispering sweet things every so often. constantly alternating between tangling her fingers in your hair and rubbing comforting circles on your back.
she just hoped her actions were able to get her message, that she cares about you, across to you more than her words are.
soon, the evening came around a lot quicker than you had expected. it had been a while since you've had to doll yourself up to look good for arlecchino. you enjoyed having an excuse to dress up every so often. you decided to put on a elegant white dress and heels on for tonight, hoping to take that stupid, nee fatui recruit off her mind.
arlecchino was already outside, waiting for you as she leaned against her expensive, sleek car. she had dressed up in a elegant suit with small chains in between the buttons. she had a crimson red waistcoat and of course her ridiculous heels. in her arms was a beautiful bouquet of roses. she was mentally hoping she was doing everything right, that she wouldn't say or do anything wrong.
not soon after, as you leave your residence, you are greeted by arlecchino. your breath hitches the second you laid eyes on her, she looked so handsome.. the way she was fiddling around with the roses just to make sure they're perfect. the way she leans against the car. every little thing about her was so captivating. at last, you see her look up at you, slowly walking towards you with that confident stride. god you were absolutely ravishing. she leans down slightly and takes your hand. her rough hand firmly brings your contrasting one to her soft lips, placing a gentle kiss on it. she gazes up at you through her eyelashes. you feel heat rush to your cheeks immediately.
"you look stunning my dear. here, roses, for you." she muses against your hand, keeping her voice even. fuck. you looked so pretty, all dolled up just for her. you feel her light breath against your knuckles before she pulls away, standing back up straight. towering over you as she hands you the perfect bouquet of roses you've ever seen. carefully you take them out of her hands, smiling lightly as you inhaled the floral smell.
it was as if time slowed down. a gentle breeze of the evening air brushed across your faces. arlecchino's lips parted as her gaze softened ever so slightly. she feels all signs of doubt leave her body. the tips of her ears were heating up at your gorgeous smile, no matter how much she tried to hold it back. thankfully for her, her ears were covered by her hair. she hadn't seen your beautiful smile for so long. it wasn't until now she had realised how much she had missed it.
"thank you. you look so beautiful too arle.." you smiled softly. you felt as if you could forgive her already. you hugged the roses carefully in your arms. they smelt good. you noticed how the corner of her lips twitched ever so slightly. how her gaze had also softened. you hadn't seen that look in a while. arlecchino, on the other hand, felt warmth she hadn't felt in a while, bubble up within her chest. deep inside, she felt like a giddy teenager falling for you for the first time all over again. she quickly pulls herself together, clearing her throat.
"come on, we wouldn't want to be late, would we?" she states, wrapping a arm around you waist, walking you to her expensive car. she opens the door for you graciously, urging you to get in first.
you mumbled a small "thank you" to which she replies with a nod. you blush softly at the small yet thoughtful action. she was so.. gentlemanly. arlecchino had such a charming personality, it was drawing you in. you hear as she closes the door on you and makes her way to the drivers seat. the seats were luxurious, made of dark red leather.
her beautiful hands made their way to the steering wheel. the engine roared as it pulled out of the driveway. her attention constantly, yet subtly divided between the road and you. she couldn't help but steal glances towards you from time to time. you looked utterly gorgeous tonight. her predatory gaze would always wander to your beautiful legs, perfectly exposed when you're wearing a dress. before immediately sticking to the road. no. she couldn't be thinking of such things. she had to properly make it up to you first.
the car ride in general was quiet. it was a comforting yet pleasant silence. you didn't mind it. you looked out the window, watching the city go past you. the shadows of tall skyscrapers and light, emitting from lit up buildings, towering over the city, flicker onto the car. giving it a beautifully shadowed hue.
it wasn't soon before arlecchino drove into a car park of an expensive looking restaurant. it was one you knew people waited over months just to get an reservation. the car comes to an stop. arlecchino gives you a soft glance before she got out of the car. walking over to open the door for you. her hand extended out to you with a gentle yet firm gaze. you smile softly as you take her hand. getting out the car. she keeps her hand in yours, leading you into the luxurious restaurant.
as arlecchino led you into the restaurant, she noticed the going quieter than it was before. everyone there looking at the two of you. numerous whispers and glances were spilling around the groups of people. you could tell that they were looking at you, of course. you looked beautiful in your dress, you were like eye candy. most people also recognised arlecchino, the knave. wondering why she was here with such a pretty girl.
arlecchino didn't bother to act polite in front of other people. she gave the patrons a cold, vicious glare as they looked in your direction. she didn't like it. she didn't like how everyone's eyes were all on you. you were hers and she was yours. arlecchino could almost feel the anxiousness imploding your mind currently. her arm wrapping around your waist firmly once more. pulling you in closer to her, as if telling everyone who you belonged to.
"just ignore them. they don't matter." she mumbles lowly into your ear, as if trying to reassure you. you let a quiet breath, you didn't know you were holding, out at her words. you stop tensing up and relax as you feel her hands squeeze your waist subtly.
as the gazes of the other patrons disperse, arlecchino makes her high status known, just by an glance from the waiters. the restaurant's staff instantly catered to her high status, treating her with upmost respect and almost fear. you two are instantly escorted to the table. it was next to a breathtaking view of the sunset. as the sun's rays fell upon your skin, it accentuated your beauty, making your face glow. arlecchino could not pull her eyes off of you. she was absolutely captivated by you. you were absolutely gorgeous..
as the two of you settle into your seats, menu's are handed out as the waiter leaves you for some time alone. arlecchino glazes over the menu. carefully reading over everything. in her mind, she hopes this dinner will be able to clear most things up. her eyes glanced up at you, who was also reading the menu. she was determined to make this dinner meaningful and memorable for you. she wanted to make up to you. no, she had to.
"order anything you fancy, my dear." arlecchino said before taking a glance back at the menu.
"alright.. thank you, arle." your lips curl in a light smile. eventually the two of you ordered drinks and food. arlecchino ordering a steak tartare and you just a steak yourself. the two of you ordered red wine. arlecchino made sure to watch your alcohol intake. arlecchino could always handle her alcohol really well, but you, on the other hand, was quite a light drinker. she didn't want you to get wasted.
she lifts her glass of wine. "cheers?" she pushes her glass towards you.
"cheers!" you laugh out softly at her slight awkwardness. your glasses made a small clink. you see the small, reassured smile on her face as you both take a sip. you feel the expensive liquid burn your throat. arlecchino watched as you downed your wine with a smile. she could tell that the alcohol was already starting to ease you up. that's good. it only meant you're enjoying yourself and she has fewer chances to mess things up.
"wow.. it's really good." you muse, your gaze relaxed. there seemed to not be as much tension as before. when she noticed your gaze relaxed, she took it as a sign that things were turning out alright. arlecchino was relieved.
"of course, only the best for you, my love." she murmurs back. her voice has a softer edge to it now. her hand reaching over to yours. placing it on top of your hand lovingly. you feel your gaze soften more in awe at her affection. it had been a while since she had treated you so well like this.
she lowers her gaze momentarily. her lips parting before closing back up again. god she didn't know how to start. she had to stop avoiding her thoughts and apologise already.
"i.. apologise again, for my actions lately." she stammers out suddenly. she looks at you right in the eyes as she says this. you know she was being sincere.
"i shouldn't of forgotten such an important date like our anniversary and neglected you for such a long period of time." she pauses momentarily. her eyebrows furrowing as she pulls her thoughts together. trying to get the sting of words bundled up in her throat right out. the sight of your crying again broke her heart. she never wanted to see you cry, because of her ever again. her hand squeezes yours subtly.
"moreover, that fatui recruit.. she means nothing to me. i mean it. you deserve nothing but pure happiness. and i promise, i will do everything, and anything for you because i love you. more than i can ever explain." her words are firm and gentle. you feel your heart warm up at her words. you knew she never liked to speak up, she was prideful and was never good with her words. you couldn't be angry at her any longer.
"arle.. just.. promise you won't do it again." you reply softly. your eyebrows furrowed still, in slight uneasiness until she confirms it herself. her words were most definitely touching your heart. her words were so genuine.
she brings your hand up to her face. your hand cupping the side of her cheek lightly. "i swear on the tsarita's name, my love." she replies with an gentle tone. her eyes were glazing into yours. arlecchino knew that she was practically begging for forgiveness right now, and she hated it. buy she wants your forgiveness, she needs your forgiveness. seeing you so upset, hurts her more than anything.
your breath hitches at her sudden gesture. her face was so warm, her skin milky soft. god she was breathtaking right now.
"i.. forgive you, arle." you breathe out. you feel all tension leave your body. you can feel your own heart beating again. thumping hard against your chest. you feel like you've fallen in love with her for the first time all over again.
"thank you, my love. i don't deserve you." she whispers softly against your palm. her body visibly relaxes. she feels her heart flutter in her chest. her ears heating up again. she hadn't fucked everything over in the end. she was so afraid of losing you after that night. she can never let things get that bad ever again.
unfortunately for the both of you, your intimate moment was cut short when a waiter arrived with your meal, much to arlecchino's annoyance. shame.. arlecchino wanted to bask in your forgiveness and sweet words just a little longer. you pulled your hand away, feeling embarrassed that the waiter had seen how close you were with her. you hoped you hadn't made arlecchino seem soft. not that she actually minded it.
your eyes widened in awe at the food placed onto the wooden table. it looked absolutely delicious. it smelt amazing. it was of high quality and was luxurious. the harbinger couldn't help but feel a slight irritation that your tender and heartfelt moment was ruined. she would much rather be lost in your eyes and touch right now. but she couldn't stay mad, especially when she saw the adorable look on your face.
once you thanked the waiter with a sweet smile and arlecchino with a stoic nod, they left. as we picked up the utensils, arlecchino glanced at me once more.
"i hope the meal is up to your standards, my dear."
and oh god it was. the rich flavours of the steak was literally melting on your tongue. taking sips of alcohol in between. the two of you had a nice conversation. you hadn't had that in a while. it felt like you were catching up on her life despite living together.t wasn't soon before you were finished with your meal. arlecchino would just nod, setting the napkin down saying something along the lines of "not bad. would be better without these.. complex seasonings."
it wasn't long before found yourself inebriated with alcohol despite how much arlecchino limited your alcohol intake. your cheeks were slightly flushed red. your eyes half lidded with that small pouty look on your face. your words would slur and you would sway side to side in your seat. trying, what seemed to be your best, to sit up straight in your seat. you would babble on about random topics.
arlecchino watched you quickly fall under the influence. sighing out with a small smile. completely adoring your drunken self. what an 'handful' for arlecchino to deal with..
arlecchino practically dragged you out your seat and into her arms. helping your drunken self stumble out the restaurant. her hand was on your waist firmly as she helped you into the car. everything was a blur. your mind was clouded and you felt all floaty. by the time you both reached the front door, you were already heavily leaning on her, having trouble walking straight alone. arlecchino helped you to the bed. your felt your body lightly laid you down onto the soft covers of the bed.
you were mumbling and giggling, completely drunk. she found you absolutely endearing in this state. she smiled faintly as she pushed some strands of hair out your face. god you looked heavenly right now. your silky hair was sprawled out on the bed. your lips were slightly parted with your head tilted to the side a little. your half lidded eyes gazing drunkly into her sober ones. the red streak of blush across your face only accentuated your drunkness.
"come on, let's get you to bed-" she mumbles before getting cut off by you tugging her down by her collar. your faces so close together. arlecchino's breath hitches at your sudden action and the sudden closeness.
"arle.. wan' you.. to apologise in.. another way.." you slur out quietly. your eyebrows furrowing. you are completely out of it. you sloppily lift your hips to lightly and not to subtly grind on hers.
oh.. she gets the hint. she feels her ears and cheeks heat up some more now. she feels her dick harden in her pants. she feels so.. tight and restricted. the air was so hot in here. one of her hands find their way to the side of your hips and lightly push them down. trying to be reasonable with your drunken self.
"dear, your drunk, you need to sleep-" arlecchino is cut off once more when you pull her head down to smash her lips on yours. arlecchino groans against your hips. she knows you want this and now she does too. her tongue enters your mouth as you let out a small muffled moan, your eyes fluttering closed. her lips were so soft. her lips made you feel more dizzier than you already were. her hands run down your back, feeling the smooth fabric of your dress underneath her fingertips. she reaches up to the zipper and pulls it down with sudden urgency.
she pulls her lips away, leaving you both breathless. she doesn't waste another second, tugging the dress off of you. her eyes roam all over your body hungrily. your eyelashes flutter open. in your hazy vision you see arlecchino drinking in the sight of you in your lace undergarments. her self-control snapping at the sight of that lace on your body
"all this for me? such a eager girl.." she smirks. you feel heat rush up to your core. you subtly rub your thighs with a whine. needing her so badly right now.
"tell me what you want sweet girl.. i'm all yours tonight.." she mumbles lowly into your ear.
"need you.. now.. pleaseeee.." you huff out. she could feel the heat pooling between her legs as you huff out those words. you looked so beautiful and sensual begging for her, it was driving her crazy. she knows she should be nice to you today, so she gives you want you want. she dips down to your neck, hungrily biting down and sucking sweetly on your neck. eliciting light moans from your throat. she leaves a trail of light red marks down your neck. losing the last bit of restraint she had.
her fingers carefully unclasp your bra. her hands moving swiftly to slide the lace off of you in anticipation. your tittys were hard, just for her. you shiver slightly at the coldness. arlecchino sucks in a breath at the sight of your. undressing herself quickly and leaving herself in her boxers. you could see the massive buldge ready to get out of the confides of her boxers. her abs were more prominent in the dark lighting. god she was so hot.
"so beautiful.." arlecchino's tone of voice is throaty and quiet. she leans in and wraps her lips around your nipple. you let out a quiet breath, moaning sweetly. your body was so sensitive from alcohol. arlecchino's actions barely registering in your mushy mind.
her other hand pinches and rolls and pulls on your other nipple in between her fingers. making the pleasure so much higher. she sucks on your nipple sweetly, relishing your moans before pulling away. her hand slowly slides down your body, her touch tracing a trail of fire on your skin. she can feel your body shiver slightly under her touch, becoming more desperate every second.
her hand dips down to your clothed cunt. you were absolutely soaked for her. she rubs her thumb on where your clit is. making your hips spasm and lean into her. your eyes fluttering closed as she forces a hoarse moan from you.
"stop.. eat me.. out already.." you whine out desperately. she smirks, complying with your needs and pulls your spoiled underwear aside. her hands hold your thighs and open them. keeping them open firmly as her long, wet muscle gives a long lick to your wet hole so.. slowly. making you shiver against her. your thighs wanting to close around her head.
"stop.. teasing.." you whine out drunkly. your hand finds their way to her head as you push her head into your cunt. you feel her lips curl up as her tongue enter your warm walls. she feels your walls spasms around her tongue. making her groan into your cunt. an vibrating hit your pussy as you throw you head back in pleasure.
"f-faster arle.." you huff out, your word slurring, in pleasure. your grip on her hair is weak in your sensitive drunk state. her nose nudges against your clit so perfectly.
she picks up the pace, devouring your pussy with her mouth. her tongue pumping in and out of your tight hole. making loud slurping noises and you push her head unto your pussy more.
"n..ngh.. more..!" you pant out, your breath shaky, rolling your hips into her mouth more. arlecchino obeys, shoving her face deeper into you. her nose buried into your folds as she sucks and eats your cunt. her hands move from your thighs to your folds and lightly pull them apart. giving her better access to your dripping hole. your thighs squeeze against her head in desperation. arlecchino groans at the feeling, against your wet cunt as she grinds her cock into the bed. fuck she so was desperate but your needs came first.
you pornagraphic moans only fuel her drive more. the way you tugged on her hair closer to you, only turned up the intensity of your pleasure more. you feel like your on cloud nine right now, feeling that coil in your stomach form. "close..!" you'd pant out, eyes rolling back in pleasure.
"go on then, pretty girl.." arlecchino's lip curl up into a smile against your pussy. you let out a high pitched moan, smashing her face into your cunt and your thighs squeeze her head as your orgasm washes over you. arlecchino felt your pussy clenching around her tongue and trembling against her mouth, your cum gushing out in streams. she groans at the cum all over her face, lapping it right up before pulling away with a string of saliva on her tongue. her chin absolutely dripping in your release.
she has a light smirk on her face, clearly pleased with your orgasm, as she wipes your release on her arm. you feel all light headed after you came, the alcohol influencing you for more. arlecchino pulled her boxers down, her massive cock springing out and slapping against her stomach. fuck, she was absolutely leaking with pre-cum. you looked at her cock in awe. arlecchino kisses you sweetly, you could taste yourself on her tongue. her erection was hard, poking right into your thigh.
she pulls away, gently pushing a strand of hair in your face out the way. gazing into your half lidded eyes.
"i'll go slow.. tell me how you'd like it, okay?" she mumbles softly. you nod, letting out a small hum of agreement.
"theres my girl.." she trails off, holding her cock in her hand as she rubs it all over your wet slit. smearing your wet juices all over her, coating her cock in your cum. your pussy twitches at her rubbing her cock all over you. she peppers sweet kisses on your forehead as she starts to push her hard cock into your tight little hole slowly. her thick cock spreads your walls apart, sinking deeper into your soaked cunt. she groans, "come on.. relax.." feeling your walls flutter around her at the intrusion, clenching down on her.
you let out little mewls. she was just so.. big. you felt stuffed to the brim. your eyes flutter shut as her thumb comes in contact with your clit. rubbing your little bundle of nerves to loosen your cunt up. your walls spasm against her length as she rubs on your clit. immediately loosening yourself up as she pushes the rest in, lightly in one fluid motion. you felt your vision turn white for a second as your hips snapped together. arlecchino lets out a deep growl at how your gummy walls pulse around her. you felt her cock spear your pussy, pressing right up to your cervix. you were so stretched out by her.
you find yourself trying to catch your breath as arlecchino whispers sweet things to you. telling you how good you are for her and how well your doing. she allows you to adjust to her massive size for as long as long as you need to. after a short while, you give her a small nod as you start to get used to her girth.
"i'm going to move now, alright?" she mumbles lowly yet sweetly, her hands holding your hips firmly as she pulls back. her hips part from yours before she slowly rocks her hips. thrusting in and out of your warm walls. you let out a shaky breath at her size and how she hit the right spots so effortlessly. she growls, it took everything to hold back her urge to just throw your legs over her shoulder and pound you to oblivion. god she was so compliant, taking you slowly, just as she promised, just like the good husband she wants to be.
her pace picks up to a bearable one. her fat cock brushes your cervix so easily, the sounds of her grunts and the sound of skin slapping sounded so good. your eyebrows furrow in pleasure when she hits your good spot, she notices this, continuously pumping her cock into it. arlecchino starts to lose her restraint, her hands on your hips tighten as her pace picks up some more. her breath starts getting ragged. the room smelled like sex, your drunken self already had your brains fucked out. she starts thrusting with more fervour, the intense slapping of skin was heard. your walls spasm around her fat cock at the filthy sounds.
you get breathless, arlecchino elicit high pitcher moans from your throat. her relentless pace too much for your drunken self to handle. after some struggle, your arms find their way to her back. your hands grip onto her back, your nails scratching into her back leaving red scratches into her toner back. she grunts at the stinging sensation, turning her on.
"slow.. ngh.. down arle..!" you whine out. your vision starts to cloud in darkness momentarily. she looks up at your pleasured face through her eyelashes and her rough, ruthless pace was now at an slower, loving pace. her grip on your hips loosen. arlecchino knows your close from how your walls are so beautifully squeezing her.
"come on, come with me pretty girl.." she groans out in pleasure. as you feel your orgasm wash over, arlecchino pushes herself to the hilt, cumming deep inside of you. you hold her tight, letting out a erotic moan. you was sure enough it was loud enough for the rest of the house maid's finishing up to hear. arlecchino watched as your stomach, full of your mixed cum, bloats. she pumps a few more strokes into you with intentions of fucking her cum straight into your womb.
"so good for me.." she mumbles, kissing your lips gently. you let out small muffled mewls, before she pulls out, pulling away as your your cum is oozing out your pussy. god, what a pretty sight it was. you feel dazed, panting and catching your breath, as you stare up into the ceiling on the brink of passing out from pleasure and the alcohol.
arlecchino helps clean yourselves up, changing the sheets before pulling you into her warm embrace. your head was buried in her neck, your bare bodies pressed against each other. it felt nice, you hadn't felt like this in a while. you found yourself not thinking about anything else, too drunk and blissed out to do so. only barely listening to her praises and the feeling of her peppering kissed on your face and drawing circles on your back. it was easier to fall asleep with her by your side.
"did so well for me hm?" she mumbles lowly with a light smile. arlecchino missed this warmth and the intimacy you two used shared frequently. she watches as you fall asleep in her arms cozily. watching your face in the pure bliss of sleep. usually, on any other day, you would find yourself awake the next morning, alone on a cold bed. but not tonight, or any other night from today forwards, for she will be by your side, embracing your body. the next morning, you will find her hugging you, waking up with you, like a loving husband she wants to be. she promises to treat you so well, with everything she has.
you were to use her, command her and cast her aside. use her as your blade. for she, will always be yours.
these nights, were no longer classed as cold nights.
not anymore.
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jk97 · 8 months
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Unprofessional Attraction | ONE
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♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 13K ♡ series synopsis - There's no such thing as a coincidence, right? CollegeSenior!Reader (22) and linguistics teacher Yunho Jeong (27) indulge in an entanglement of inappropriate gravitation. It's risky and it's wrong, but listening to one's better judgment never leads to anything as intoxicating. When someone threatens this secret relationship with blackmail to expose the truth, things take a turn for the worse. Graduation can't seem to come fast enough. ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff and explicit content (mdni), slight age gap, teacher/student relationship, other members are featured, pining, some obsessive behavior and manipulation (mainly from reader), drinking alcohol, inebriated driving (big no no frens!) perverted!yunho, bigdick!yunho, sprinkles of praise, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (mention of bc pill tho), porn with plot  ♡ A/N - part one is kinda tame, the next two parts will have more explicit scenes. I hope you enjoy, and please look forward to the rest! I haven't posted a fic on tumblr in many years so pls be kind ♡
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
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Yeosang is too attentive, especially when it comes to his best friend.
That’s why he knows you well enough to call you out when he whispers, “You’re staring again.”
“I’m staring at the whiteboard, pretty sure that’s what you’re supposed to do in class,” you argue, not bothering to even glance at him. It’s quite obvious that your eyes are too busy soaking in things that don’t have to do with phonology.
Your linguistics teacher, Yunho Jeong, is dressed particularly charmingly today. Something about the tight-fitting white polo shirt and chocolate brown slacks he has on this class is too distracting. It doesn’t help that his hair is a little more messy than usual, you wonder if he was running late this morning. Linguistics has nothing to do with your major, however, for your final semester in college, you simply needed a filler class for your last few credits. Yeosang suggested joining him in this class so you could both support each other, but he never factored in the fact that you’d be too distracted by the teacher to do anything of use for him. There weren’t many younger teachers such as Yunho at your university; in fact, you were pretty sure this was only his second semester teaching in general. He was generally a mild-mannered and easygoing teacher, but he was also able to command a room when necessary.
A minute later, Yunho offers everyone a 10-minute break since the last section of his lecture lasted a little longer than he anticipated, and the class immediately breaks out into chatter.
“He’s single, you know,” Yeosang turns towards you and props up his head on his palm, “Or so I’ve heard.”
“Don’t tell me things like that, you’ll make me delusional.”
He doesn’t miss the goofy smile tugging at your lips as you stretch your tired limbs from too much sitting. The lectures for this class were two hours long, but they were only twice a week on Wednesdays and Fridays, so you couldn’t complain too much.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“That I might have a chance with him,” you nudge him playfully.
“I’m not sure he’d want to date someone barely passing his own class,” Yeosang quips quickly, subsequently squeezing his eyes shut when you flick his forehead in response.
“Watch your mouth, I am not ‘barely passing’!” You return your eyes to the subject of your conversation, slowly taking in his form, “For the record, I could definitely pull him if I tried to. You think he likes younger women?”
“That is a terrible idea,” your best friend immediately shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”
“Surely I would be guaranteed to pass then though, no?” you offer instead, half-joking.
“You haven’t gotten laid in the last month and this is the first person that comes to your mind to fix that?” Yeosang scoffs incredulously.
“I wouldn’t just be in it for the sex,” you clarify. Your keen eyes watch his every move, from the way that his large hands flex as he thumbs at his phone to the way he purses his lips in curiosity at whatever he’s looking up. Like a lion stalking a gazelle before pouncing. “He’s quite literally perfect. Tall, smart, handsome, financially stable… the whole package. I deserve a man like that, right Yeo?”
You meet Yeosang’s eyes curiously, and he reminds you, “I think you’re forgetting he’s our teacher .”
“We graduate soon,” you whine, “Act now, worry later. I could graduate with a boyfriend already lined up the minute I get handed my degree.”
“You’re playing with fire, ____,” he holds his hands up in surrender. As your best friend, he knows you’re not joking, despite how much you might play it off later. He knows that once you set your mind on something, you generally don’t stop until it’s achieved, “Let’s see you try, though. It’ll be entertaining.”
When class resumes, you listen to the rest of his lecture with renewed cravings and an unusually optimistic disposition Yeosang has never seen you hold for this subject.
From that moment forward, every instance you “stumbled” across your teacher was planned. You figured out which parking lot he parked his car on during the day and bought a proper parking pass for that lot, now alternating between taking the shuttle and your car to the university. Your schedules crossed occasionally on your driving days, and you’d simply offer warm greetings or cheerful send-offs depending on the time of day. Yunho was a man of habit who visited the same campus restaurant nearly every day he worked during lunchtime in between his midday classes. It didn’t take much energy to stop by a couple of days a week and run into Yunho, giving you the ability to strike up a conversation or two when asking for recommendations on what you should order. These instances were simply to put you more on his radar, instead of just being a face in the sea of students in his class.
He seems to be good friends with two other teachers who are also around his age, teachers Seonghwa Park and San Choi. You wonder if getting in their good graces would somehow transfer to your teacher, by word of mouth. Luckily, you have a friend who has Mr. Park for a history seminar. On a Sunday night, you shoot a text to set the stage.
  [Y/N: Jongho!!!! It’s been so long since we’ve hung out :(( Can I swing by your class tomorrow and pick you up? Let’s get lunch!]
When 2 PM rolls around on Monday, you make the mistake of trusting the shuttle to come on time. It’s nearly 3 PM when you get to the necessary building, and you’re sure Jongho’s class ended close to half an hour ago. The plan to run across Mr. Park is thrown completely out of the window, you are only worried about Jongho being upset with you. You know he’d never, but still. Being late to something planned ahead of time always upsets you to no end. You curse at yourself over and over every stride down the hall, and it’s good that the hallways are virtually empty or else you’d probably look crazy. Eventually, you make it to your destination.
You’re just about to blindly call out an apology to Jongho but end up stopping dead in your tracks as soon as you enter the door; not only is Mr. Park in the room seated at his desk, but he’s also accompanied by Mr. Choi and Mr. Jeong. They’re huddled together, Yunho leaning against the whiteboard leisurely with a cup of coffee in his hand while intently listening to Seonghwa complain about the registrar’s office fucking up another one of his student’s enrollment for his class.
“There she is,” Jongho sighs this aloud as if his prayers have been answered.
He didn’t know if you were going to still make it and he’s dying of hunger from skipping breakfast. Immediately, all three men’s eyes turn towards the entrance. You pray to God that your face isn’t flushed with how hot you feel being the fixation of so many eyes. Or maybe it’s more so how handsome the men are that those eyes are coming from. This surely isn’t the time to have such a weakness for a strapping man in a button-up and crisp slacks.
“Hello, ____,” Yunho is the first of the three to speak. Subsequently, San amiably nods toward you in acknowledgment.
“Good afternoon all,” you greet everyone, bashfully adding, “I’m so sorry for interrupting.”
“Not interrupting at all,” Seonghwa waves his hands, dispelling those fears, “We were curious why Jongho was sticking back so late. He assured us a friend was coming to get him and we just chose not to leave him.”
Well, this is embarrassing. You nod hastily and glance toward Jongho, who is practically skipping down the lecture hall’s steps. Yunho wants to crack a joke about seeing you everywhere, about how you both must be magnets or something else silly, but he decides to keep that to himself. He doesn’t want it to seem like he’s keeping track of course, even if he is.
Instead, he affirms to the other men, “This is a student of mine.”
Admittedly, your ears had tuned every other word out except “mine”, and you nodded a little too enthusiastically. You haven’t been this discomposed in a long time, too bashful to look any of them in the eyes, and you pray it’s not showing too much elsewhere. Jongho’s friendly hand landing on your shoulder grounds you.
“You ready?”
“Absolutely,” you puff out.
“Don’t cause too much trouble for her, Jongho,” Seonghwa pokes a bit of fun at one of his top students, who replies by waving him away and scoffing. They seem to be relaxed with each other— this is something you desire to achieve with Yunho soon. You snatch up your friend’s hand and finally move to leave for lunch, if it could even be considered that now with how late it is.
“See you Wednesday, Mr. Jeong,” you look back and shoot him a wave, accompanied by a charming smile. He nods back, offering you his own as well.
Unbeknownst to you, San’s eyes follow you out the door with Jongho, especially surveying the plush of your thighs rubbing together as you walk. Such as yourself, skirts are surely a weakness of his.
“She’s a senior, right?” he murmurs, half-jokingly.
“Stop it,” Yunho promptly elbows San in the arm, earning a stifled laugh from Seonghwa.
Yunho has heard stories about San’s slight affinity with the pretty college women when he goes out to bars on the weekends. Nobody from his own classes, of course. Needless to say, Yunho would not let him even think about you that way. No way in hell.
“I was just asking, Jesus.”
Seonghwa stretches his limbs from his chair, “It’s never ‘just asking’ with you.”
“You buy a table of women drinks one time and your friends never let you hear the end of it,” he groans with a roll of his eyes, “God you guys are the worst.”
“Yeah, sure, that’s what it is,” Seonghwa concedes sarcastically.
“Just don’t make any unannounced visits to my classroom anytime soon, you buffoon,” Yunho chastises him while pressing his cup to his lips, “And I’m serious.”
“You got that,” San yields, “Wouldn’t wanna be a cock-block.”
Yunho nearly spits his coffee, “I beg your pardon?”
San nearly doubles over in laughter and, to Yunho’s surprise, Seonghwa has joined in. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the look they’re sharing and it makes the back of his neck burn with heat. Yunho doesn’t know why he’s so embarrassed but he steers the conversation away from discussing you any further. He ignores the feeling of indignation and possessiveness pooling in the pit of his stomach.
It doesn’t take long for you to decide you’ve done what needed to be done outside of the classroom; the cherry on top now was simply to get him alone more privately.
You didn’t have to try very hard for this to happen; your work on your paper outline was already sub-par at best. You did fairly well on the quizzes and packets he passed out once a week, but that final paper preparation was surely going to be a challenge. When you find enough courage in yourself to email him about seeing him during his office hours for extra academic help on formatting your paper and choosing a more concise topic, he replies quickly and enthusiastically. According to your syllabus, the topic should relate to what you’re studying for your degree, but the real meat and potatoes of the paper should incorporate an aspect of linguistics in relation to your career path. Yunho understands how something like this can be difficult to tackle, so he assures you not to worry and that you both will work on perfecting it in no time.
“Mr. Jeong, do you mind if I text you instead? It’s more convenient for me than to email,” you end up asking him at the end of class on a Friday.
Yunho doesn’t mind this and he says so; he's put his phone number on the syllabus for situations like this. Moreover, he doesn’t think anything of it when he receives a text from you the morning of your first session telling him good morning and saying that you’re excited to finally get some guidance. You follow up by asking how he likes his coffee, and if he prefers muffins or donuts. Even after this indicator, he’s still surprised that you show up at his office right on time at 10 AM on Monday with two fresh cups of coffee and a couple of things from the campus bakery.
His office is fairly small, but not enough to feel uncomfortable. He’s decorated it to his liking though to make it feel a little more homely on the days he has to stay late for one reason or another. He watches you marvel at his space before you set down everything in your hands and relieve yourself of your backpack.
“Good morning!”
“Good morning ____, welcome in,” Yunho smiles. “You’re very punctual.”
“Of course, I meant what I said about being excited,” you tell him honestly, settling into the seat in front of his desk, “The right one is yours, by the way.”
Yunho timidly thanks you before sliding it closer to himself. He’s never had a student do something for him like this, then again he hasn’t been teaching that long to begin with. Regardless, he appreciates it and the gesture goes straight to his heart. He takes a sip to emphasize this.
“I’m all ready when you are,” you proclaim, clasping your hands together.
With that, he begins to look through his folders for your class number and finds the topic idea and outlines you’ve submitted previously. He doesn’t even have to look for your name specifically, you always tend to write his name and your class section in a particular way on the top of your work that is very appealing and oddly unique.
“You have really pretty handwriting,” Yunho murmurs out absentmindedly when he finds it. When he lifts his head to see your intrigued eyes gazing back at him, he clears his throat and adds, “Mine looks like chicken scratch so I’m always fascinated by others.”
“As long as it’s legible, that’s all that matters,” you hum with a smile, “And I can read yours just fine, so you’re fine.”
Yunho’s not sure why that mild compliment, something that should probably be insignificant, steals his words from him for a moment. Instead, he offers a hum in place of thanks while quickly taking another sip of his coffee. He glances at his notes before speaking again.
“Okay, so when I reviewed your work, it seems like you generally have a solid topic,” he begins, “It’s definitely something that can be a bit more concise, but it’s fine. The problem is that you’re trying to incorporate too much into the paper as a whole.”
You nod in understanding, so he takes a sip of coffee and continues.
“That’s good and bad, for a couple of reasons. It’s good that you’re being ambitious and trying to give lots of information. This shows me that you’re planning on doing a lot of research and you’re going to be very knowledgeable about your topic,” Yunho cocks his head, “If you set yourself up like this, though, your paper will end up being over twenty pages easily. And we both don’t want that, right?”
He gives you a knowing look, and you can’t help the candid snort you let out at his frankness, “Definitely not, oh God. I’m so sorry.”
“Precisely. So, let’s work on cutting some of these sections out and conjoining some of these bullet points in others. Sound good?” He holds out his hand with a grin as if to make it a deal, and you grant him a firm shake.
After a considerable amount of time figuring out which parts of your paper to chop without losing the vision, Yunho feels his limbs tighten from sitting too long. He’s been in this chair since 9 AM, so he asks, “Can we take a quick break? I need to stretch a bit.”
“Of course!”
When he stands to full height and stretches his arms, your eyes inconspicuously survey the way the edge of the desk lines up right with his pelvis. Perfect height for extracurricular activities… You wonder if he’s the type of guy to be open to something like that, fucking his lover in his office. Surely this thing is sturdy enough to withstand it, you muse. The thought of him bending you over the desk just to prove how sturdy it is makes you rub your thighs together. You decide to chug the rest of your now-cold coffee to get your brain back on track. Yunho collapses back into his office chair gently and lets you know he’s ready to resume. The rest of the time is spent setting up a list of some things you could tweak when you go home on your own and prepare for him to view in a couple of days.
On Wednesday, for your second meeting, you both convene at his office directly after your class with him in the afternoon. You smell especially good today, a mix of jasmine, vanilla, and something else he can’t put his tongue on… but it’s got Yunho’s head a bit foggy. Still, the meeting is engaging and brimming with useful help just as the last. Leaning back in his chair, he takes a brief moment to review a printout of what you’ve implemented into your outline from your last meeting discussions. It’s definitely already an improvement, but there are still a few things that could be tweaked in terms of sectioning. He grabs his favorite pen and lays your papers out in front of you, leaning forward to mark things you should be mindful of. A circle here, a quick jotted note there—his soothing voice explains each eagerly, and you can tell just how much he loves this subject by his enthusiasm. You reply to all of his criticism and suggestions with just as much enthusiasm. Yunho finds himself leaning in a little closer than might be suitable for the circumstances, but his brain is still ensnared by your perfume. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, truthfully, but it doesn’t bother you a bit. In fact, you’re a little too enamored with watching his large hands grip his pen and flex while writing to notice he’s calling your name.
“____?” he calls for a second time, to which you finally meet his gaze while blinking bashfully. “You okay?”
“I’m sorry, I think I spaced out for a second,” you answer honestly. He is absolutely too close to you right now and the way you can see the details in his eyes is making your brain short-circuit. He finally sits back in his chair and chuckles warmly.
“We have been working for quite a while today, I’m sure it’s a lot of information. Maybe we should wrap up for the day and meet again next week? I’m a bit tied up on Friday,” he ponders. You can’t help the hint of disappointment that makes its way onto your face, and he notices. There’s this unusual feeling in his chest right now; why does he feel regret for his stupid schedule? He leans forward on his elbows and cocks his head, “You’re doing very well, you know that? We’ve made a lot of progress after only a couple of meetings. I’m very excited to see how this comes together at the end of the semester.”
“I’m very self-conscious about my writing, so I appreciate that, Mr. Jeong,” you confess with a sheepish smile.
“You have nothing to be stressed about, I love what I’ve seen so far,” he continues his praise, “And I’m very happy you’re in my class, ____.”
The smile he gives you after such a statement manifests dozens of butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t help but match it. These one-on-one sessions go on 2-3 days a week for about two more weeks, loosening him up to you. He successfully becomes much more casual and unfiltered in your presence before you decide to up the ante. The following Tuesday of the next week, you remain on campus fairly late after classes end for the day, seated on a bench near the parking lot you both share. It’s warm outside even with the sun gradually setting, and you spend the time mentally rehearsing exactly what you planned on saying when he arrives to leave for home. He should be here any minute now–
“_____?”
You spin around at the familiar voice calling out your name. It’s him, of course, coming from the staff meeting you found out was being held this evening. Finally , you think. He stops just short of where you’re perched on the bench.
“Oh, hello Mr. Jeong.”
“What are you doing out here so late?” He inquires quickly, and there’s a tinge of concern laced in his voice. However, he realizes that asking this might be out of the realm of things he should know, you’re a grown woman after all. So, he follows up with an excuse, “It’s getting pretty dark out.”
“It’s a bit embarrassing,” you mutter, glancing away from his gaze.
Yunho can’t deny, he’s a bit mesmerized by the way you look tonight. He’s never seen you with your make-up done up like this, or your hair styled so charmingly. When you glance back at him again with those long, fluttering lashes of yours, he feels the back of his neck turn hot.
“You can tell me anything, you already know,” he reminds you, “I won’t judge and I’m always available to listen.”
“Well… I have a reservation for dinner with someone at six… but it seems they stood me up,” you reveal while mindlessly fiddling with a frayed string on the skirt of your dress. Yunho glances down at his watch: it’s 5:48 PM. “They were supposed to pick me up a while ago. I was trying to hold out some hope, but… I’m just being stupid.”
Yunho furrows his brows; why would someone stand a girl like you up? You’re beautiful and exceptionally smart (despite any kind of trouble you may have had with your paper). You’re also one of the sweetest people he’s ever crossed paths with in life. Many of those paths having been crossed within the last month, of course. Still, he can’t fathom it.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, ____,” he tells you truthfully. Then, he thinks about how your car isn’t here, and how the shuttle won’t be around until 6:30 PM. He’s slightly apprehensive before offering, “Do you want a ride home?”
You give him a winsome smile that pierces into his heart with an invisible arrow, “You don’t have to do that. I appreciate the offer though.”
“No, really, I don’t mind at all,” he says with more confidence. The idea of him being your knight in shining armor, buried deep in the back of his head, is shouting at him. That’s when you decide it’s time to take your shot, for better or worse.
“Well, in that case, would you like to accompany me to the restaurant instead?” you inquire, glancing up at him curiously. “I already paid for the spot, so I wouldn’t want the reservation to go to waste.”
Normally, you’d follow up a statement like that with a: “But it’s okay if not.”  
Not tonight.
You didn’t want to give him an out to this proposal willingly. You can see the mild indecisiveness in his face anyway, all the way down to how Yunho’s hand tightens around the handle of his briefcase. You did get all dolled up for whoever you were supposed to be spending the evening with, and he’ll feel awfully bad letting you go back home to take it all off for no reason. It’s just a dinner, he tells himself.
“Sure,” Yunho finally says in an exhale, “Let me pull around my car.”
While he walks off into the parking lot towards his car, you bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop the dishonest smile that’s threatening to spread across your face. Was it all a bald-faced lie? Of course it was! But, sometimes it takes some white lies to get to what you want, and what you wanted was no longer that far out of reach if tonight was anything to go by.
When he finally pulls around to pick you up, you allow yourself to slip into the mode you usually go to on dates. It doesn’t hurt to pretend tonight, it’s like manifesting your reality. You thrum your fingers against your bare thighs, to no particular beat, while staring out of the car window at other passing cars during your brief trip on the highway.
“Is this a restaurant you’ve been to before? It looked really nice online,” Yunho eventually says into the silence, trying to make small talk. He had briefly skimmed the reviews while plugging the address in on his phone.
“I haven’t, actually,” you divulge, going further, “I’m a bit of a foodie, you know? I like to try new places occasionally.”
That conversation flows smoothly for the rest of the drive, and even smoother when you both are seated and eating dinner in a booth towards the back of the restaurant. It’s nice to see him in a more relaxed setting.
“Thank you for joining me tonight, Mr. Jeong.” You offer him some well-deserved gratitude as you wipe your mouth, signaling the end of your eating. “Makes things a lot less embarrassing tonight for sure.”
“No need to thank me, I enjoyed your company,” he smiles. He doesn’t even hesitate this time before adding, “That bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”
The bubbly laugh and adorable smile you grant him the experience of witnessing enraptures him, the tips of his ears burning at the thought of how he wants to be able to produce that from you again and again. Yunho hasn’t been on a date in a while, so he’s sure this feeling is just because he’s attention-deprived. Still, it’s something he notes mentally. And, even though some might consider it inappropriate, you and your teacher both began having dinner occasionally, just like that. Platonically, of course.
  “We can go over my questions for my paper topic here rather than in that cramped office of yours, you know?”  
Surprisingly when you proposed this, he showed little resistance to the idea. Yunho enjoyed getting out of the house for the evenings he usually spent alone with a few beers and a Netflix series. He enjoyed having a pretty girl keep him company even more. He reminds himself every time he picks you up, though, that this is simply work and nothing more. Just some overtime—helping a student who enjoyed his class get better at the material. It’s not meant to be enjoyable.
But after the first few times of these “informational paper related” meetings, conversations involving anything to do with linguistics slowly molded into Yunho placing a nimble finger to his lips to say a silent shhh, followed by, “Let’s not talk about schoolwork tonight, okay?”
That moment, when you noticed that slight shift in Yunho’s energy, the atmosphere from there turned more informal. You become more conscious of those important invisible lines between student and teacher— or even more teacher and friend— that have begun to blur significantly. “Good evening Mr. Jeong,” became, “Le’me taste your food, Yunho?”
To which he never declines, naturally.
Tonight, on the 5th dinner, the climate between you both plows further into the downward spiral of informality, warm and fairly flirtatious. At least, that’s what you surmise by the way he keeps openly teasing you this evening. It’s all innocuous banter, but that doesn’t quell the adoration you hold for him in the pit of your stomach. It’s enough to make your thighs clench together underneath the table. You finally decide to shamelessly reciprocate, teasing him about the way his hair is going every which way tonight. You emphasize how the style is still very handsome despite him looking like he’s been through hell and back.
“I was having a pretty bad day today until I remembered where I was going tonight actually,” Yunho divulges, pushing the wrinkly sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He truly has been through hell and back today, between snooty older teachers and idiot freshmen both treating him like he’s a student just because of his age, “These kinds of nights with you always make my day, so it’s been saved.”
A playful smile tugs at your lips as you cock your head, “Is it the food or is it the company?”
He leans forward on his forearms with a prepossessing smile, one that makes your heart thump loudly in your ears.
“Both, of course,” he teases again, “I suppose the food is just a bonus, though.”
He takes notice of the way your cheeks are dusted in crimson as you shyly avert your eyes and locks that innocent image into a deep chamber of his mind along with all the others. He practically has a photo album saved mentally. It’s not too long until the food comes, and things become all about eating. A fair amount of time into your dinner, you decide to add a new element to your dynamic.
“Do you mind if I drink a little tonight?” you inquire quietly while your eyes skim the wine menu briefly. Not like you were going to care about his answer, but it was simply fun to ask. He chuckles.
“You’re an adult,” he points out instead. You smile to yourself before meeting his eyes from behind the menu. There’s something especially curious tonight behind those dark irises of his. The unfamiliar stare he gives you from behind his bangs is accompanied by a subtle smirk that makes your stomach tie into tight knots.
You turn away your eyes until you’re able to catch the attention of your waiter once more. In the process of requesting a glass of some Cabernet Sauvignon, you hesitate before saying the name of which brand because of the price tag for one glass, but most risks are pricey and tonight you felt like splurging for the reward in return: releasing your inhibitions. The waiter turns towards Yunho to confirm if he’d like to add anything before he leaves.
“Bring a bottle of that instead, please. We’ll share,” he requests alternatively. It takes all of your strength not to look at him like he’s crazy as the waiter nods and heads off to fetch it.
“It’s on me tonight,” Yunho beats you to the punch on declaring anything about his decisions.
“You don’t even know the price of it.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he quips back with a chuckle, “Are you suggesting I can’t afford it?”
“Yunho…”
“Don’t even give me that, ____.”
The way he blithely says your first name with a different warmth now always causes your heart to swell in your chest. All formality is truly gone between you two. You both share matching smiles in place of any further words about the matter.
When the waiter returns briefly with a freshly opened bottle of wine and two glasses, you both offer him words of gratitude before he slips away once more. Yunho wastes no time pouring you both a proper amount, sighing contently when finished. You lift your glass towards him and grin once more, “Cheers?”
“Cheers.”
Yunho surely got his money’s worth, because the bottle is gone between you both quickly, signaling the end of your dinner as well. You don’t feel the few glasses fully set in until Yunho is helping you out of the booth, your legs feeling akin to a newborn baby deer as you bashfully stumble into his arms. You suppose your food wasn’t as carb-heavy as usual tonight. You’re not drunk, but surely you’re not sober either. He doesn’t mind holding you steady on the way out of the restaurant, a guiding hand timidly pressed to the small of your back.
As much as you despise the thought of driving under the influence, it’s pouring an insane amount of rain upon exit of the restaurant and Yunho insists he’s fine enough to drive. The dilemma that arises is how your place is further than he has confidence in making it to in this storm while inebriated. You know just as well as he does that there’s no way he’s driving you home tonight.
“I have a spare bedroom,” he begins, and glances over at you, hoping you understand what he means because he’s not sober enough to come up with the words to ask you otherwise. The pouring water is making it hard for him to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t miss the feigning look of indecision in your eyes. He tries to ignore the way the rain has soaked through your dress enough to make it plaster your body. It accentuates every contour of your figure, from the rounds of your breasts down to your supple thighs. When the boom of thunder somewhere far off fills the silence after his proposal faster than you do, he panics slightly.
“I can get you an Uber if—”
“You already paid for an expensive bottle tonight, don’t waste more money on an Uber,” you grasp onto his arm fondly, sopping breasts squished into his bicep. Your lips curl into a soft smile at his attempt at chivalry though, “I’ll be fine. Let’s hurry though, okay? I’m cold.”
That statement is followed by a sharp shiver running down your back, and that’s enough for him to drag you along with him to his car with quick, but careful, steps.
Surprisingly, Yunho lives in a townhouse. You’re very thankful not to have to walk up the stairs of a condo. He thanks God there’s an empty parking space in front of his house, he hates when the tiny lot fills up before he gets home. You both prepare yourselves before rushing out of the car and to his front door.
Your hazy eyes train themselves on his pretty, slender fingers fiddling with the doorknob before he finally gets it open. Those same fingers grab your hand and pull you through his front door with him mindlessly. Another chill immediately runs down your spine at the cool AC blasting through his home, which he immediately runs off to turn down.
“Both bedrooms have bathrooms with showers,” Yunho sputters while quickly heading off to find you a towel and some spare clothes for which you could sleep in.
While you’re still peeling your drenched shoes and socks off, he settles on a fresh t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants since it’s still a bit chilly in the house. You try not to track too much water through his home while you journey through his living room and meet him halfway.
“I’ll shower in the guest room,” you tell him, taking the items.
He runs an anxious hand through the wet hair sticking to his forehead, “I can also dry your clothes if you leave them on the bed.”
“Fuck, that’s great,” you sigh with a smile, stepping past him but cocking your head back to add, “Wait about five minutes before you come grab them, I should be in the shower by then.”
Just as you requested, Yunho comes into the room a little over five minutes later when he hears the shower running. His eyes confirm that the bathroom door is closed for your privacy before grabbing your wet clothes and retreating to his laundry room down the hall. He chucks them all in his dryer and runs it on medium heat and maximum dryness. While that’s running, he busies himself with running to his bedroom and speedrunning his shower to ensure he’s out before you. He’s a man on a mission, pulling on clothes and towel-drying his hair before rushing to the laundry room to get your clothes.
Yunho pulls your garments from the dryer one by one, making sure there’s nothing left wet. He stops when he pulls something out that catches his eyes. Your underwear. He’s quite enticed by them, even if they were pastel pink with turtles... Hot, he thinks sarcastically. Yunho eyes the crotch curiously and remembers that technically he didn’t wash your clothes at all. It’s been a while since he’s had a girl over his home and that, on top of the thought of even holding your underwear, is taking a small toll on him. He gives in and puts them to his nose, breathing in deeply.
Oh God … Even after they've been soaked in rain, your scent is still heavy on the fabric. He groans, why did you have to smell so fucking good? He remembers that you are quite literally right down the hall while he's here sniffing your underwear like a pervert. It’s your fault, right? Yeah, it’s your fault for trusting him with such a sensitive piece of clothing by himself. It’s your fault for smelling so good and looking so pretty and—
He gives up on rationalizing it and presses the clothing fully onto his face again, inhaling heavily and feeling himself grow harder and harder by the second. His arousal grows worse and worse, precum dampening his underwear with every deep inhale and fluttering thought of what you probably taste like… He finds his hand mindlessly palming himself, and luckily his groans are muffled by the underwear bunched up in his face. That’s when he hears the water shut off.
Yunho whispers a handful of obscenities as he hurries to the room to place your dried clothes on the bed while you’re still in the bathroom, closing the door behind him softly. He’s long gone by the time you step out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.
Normally, you’d stay in the shower until your fingertips are pruney, but you suppose being a good guest includes not using up all of his hot water. There were more pressing things to attend to anyway, like the tall attractive man patiently awaiting your presence outside of this room. So, when you tug on your now dry panties and his previously provided clothing, you quickly make your way out of the room and to the living room. You’re not exactly sure what you expected upon seeing him, but he’s indeed still exceptionally handsome freshly out of the shower. Those same curious eyes gaze at you behind his shaggy bangs, still in the process of drying. Clad in a simple white t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, his biceps and strong thighs are fully on display as he lounges on the couch. The way his long legs are man-spread now that he’s comfortable in his own abode makes you swallow a little harder than usual. Still, you meander over and sit on the other side of the couch, not too far away.
“Your place is very nice,” you state absentmindedly, glancing around at the walls of his home. “Very fit for a bachelor.”
Without you noticing, Yunho’s eyes skillfully study the way you’re so casually in his clothing. You’re too busy glancing around at unnecessary things anyway; he wonders if you’re rambling about his decor because you’re nervous. He’s nervous too, but not for the right reasons. Regardless, seeing you in his clothing is taking an additional toll on his mental health. How did you both end up in this situation together… This is wrong, he thinks. He shakes his head to try and clear those corrupted thoughts from his mind. It isn’t until you realize he hasn’t replied to anything in a couple of minutes of you jabbering that you finally peer over at him. His eyes are trained on the short distance between the both of you, mindlessly chewing on the nail of his thumb.
“You okay?” you ask, finally catching his attention.
He nods hastily, “Definitely. Sorry, it’s been a long day. Mind is on empty.”
“You’re fine, no worries.”
It’s uncomfortably quiet for a moment as you both exchange stares. You’re seconds away from breaking the silence before Yunho steals the chance.
“I’m sure you’re tired, so we can head to bed,” he suddenly exhales, hands clasping his thighs, “The guest room is all yours for as long as you need it.”
You take the chance and lean forward toward him on your palms at this statement, slightly sinking into the couch while you gaze at him, “Is that what you really want, Yunho?”
There’s now an even longer moment of silence where you both stare each other in the eyes again and the room is unbearably quiet. Yunho finally breaks it after his Adam’s apple bobs uneasily.
“Of course,” he awkwardly chuckles with furrowed brows, “What do you mean, ____?”
Your heart deflates. For a second, you wonder if maybe you’ve been reading his body language incorrectly the entire night. There’s a flare of embarrassment that ignites on your cheeks as you immediately retract yourself.
“I suck at making jokes,” you match his chuckle nervously, “Don’t mind me.” He cocks his head at you curiously and you stand to your feet before he can catch the way your face is lighting on fire with every passing second. You avoid looking at him as you begin striding back to the guest room, “Goodnight Yunho, see you in the morning!”
Yunho is left alone to his own devices once he hears the sound of the door to the guest room closing down the hall. Sitting alone on a large bed in your teacher’s home feels surreal, and all too disappointing the same. You press your palms to your eyes to try and settle the embarrassment that keeps washing over you every time you think back to your impromptu attempt at making an advance toward him. God this fucking sucks…
After a few minutes of setting up some alarms on your phone for the next morning, you decide you need to go get some water and wash away tonight from your mind forever. Yunho Jeong doesn’t like you more than a friend, it’s time to accept your fate and that you failed at attracting him. To be fair, it all was a shot in the dark to begin with. You try not to be too hard on yourself and hope that he’s already in his room by now.
But, if that’s all truly the case, then why is Yunho standing in front of the guest room door when you open it? His arm is positioned as if he was about to knock. Yunho had been standing there for quite some minutes, debating his next actions in his head, overthinking as usual. Though, could it be considered overthinking if the consequences of his actions could lead to delinquency? Had you not opened the door to go get water, albeit unknowingly, he probably would’ve psyched himself out.
“Oh– Did you need something?” you mumble and look up inquisitively at him. His mouth lingers open for a few seconds before he learns how to speak again.
“Can we talk?”
“Of course.” You can’t help the hint of confusion gracing your face as you step aside and allow him inside the room, “Is everything okay?”
When you close the door and face him, he looks distraught. Everything was indeed not okay.
“Are you still drunk?” He asks first.
“I don’t really think I was ever drunk,” you tell him, “But no.”
“Neither am I.”
At first, it doesn’t click about why he’s confirming this. You also don’t notice the way he gradually takes tentative steps forward—or the way you’re equally taking steps back—until your back hits the bedroom door. He’s so close that you can smell the minty mouthwash still fresh on his breath unfurling over your face. Still, he looks hesitant about his actions.
“I’m sorry, I was just… nervous before,” he swallows. He watches your face shift from confusion to realization; he’s referring to his response when you shot your shot. You relax against the door.
“About?” Is all you can ask in a soft voice, left hand daringly reaching up and cupping his cheek.
“About drunken words,” he continues, his voice just above a whisper. You can see the stutter of his heart against his chest. “And my feelings.”
Your thumb brushes his bottom lip, “What are you feeling, Yunho?”
In a moment of fleeting courage, he gently grabs your right hand and leads it to settle below his groin, pressing it against him a bit for good measure.
“What does it feel like I’m feeling to you?”
Your cheeks heat up at the feeling of him in your palm; you didn’t expect him to be so forward about it out of nowhere. The overall anticipation of the situation is killing you, even though everything feels like it’s moving too slowly and too fast all at the same time. All of your effort was leading to this point and yet, somehow, you still don’t feel nearly as prepared as you thought you were to finally fuck him, to finally fuck your teacher. That doesn’t stop your cunt from clenching around nothing at all at his words alone, because this is definitely what you’ve wanted so badly for weeks.
You try to swallow even though your throat feels parched, mindlessly whispering, “Oh my God…”
Then, you give him an experimental squeeze which has his eyelids fluttering closed, and a deep grunt leaving his flared nostrils.
“Fuck …” he groans. It’s too natural, the way you subconsciously run your hand up and down the bulge, feeling it harden even further. Yunho is at his wit's end. “I need you to tell me exactly what you want ____,” he reminds you.
You get it, he’s covering his bases because of his relation to you outside of this bedroom. Consent is sexy regardless, so you grant that to him.
“I really, really want you to fuck me Yunho,” you purr as your hands creep up his chest until you can wrap your arms around his neck, “And I think you want the same, right?”
Yunho’s hands sneak under the t-shirt on you and he massages the flesh of your sides, fingertips ghosting up your skin until they reach your breasts. His thumbs brushing against your hard nipples involuntarily make you whimper his name, and this is all Yunho needs to hear to proceed without such caution. The moment he leans down and smashes his lips to yours, time stops.
It’s nasty, the way your tongues are dragging against each other, spreading trails of saliva everywhere.
It’s nasty, the way he can’t help but drag that same tongue down your neck, sullying your freshly washed skin with spit.
It’s even nastier, the way he moans out your name, shamelessly grinding his clothed boner into your crotch, searching for friction because he’s touch-starved.
“A-Ah—wait! Bed, please,” you let out a broken moan at the way he sucks and bites on your neck. Yunho grunts in agreement, spinning you around and forcefully guiding you back until you both reach the bed. You can’t help but giggle when you fall back on the mattress— he’s so hungry for it, for you. And you’re more than ready to give it to him.
“Can I take them off?” He still asks like a gentleman, though his fingers are impatiently already tugging at the bottom of your sweatpants. You nod with fervor.
The moment he tosses them away, the situation begins to feel a bit more real to you both. Maybe it’s because you’re sopping wet and semi-exposed, and he’s not, so you become bashful and self-conscious.
“Take yours off too?”
Yunho doesn’t hesitate to oblige you. He peels off his shirt and shoves his shorts away easily. There’s a brief second where he hesitates before also pulling his boxer briefs down and finally fully exposing himself to you in all his nude glory. Yunho hasn’t slept with a woman in a while, but he’s never had complaints about anything, and especially not his size. He can tell by how your eyes are drinking him in, that you won’t have any either.
“You’re so handsome, you know that?” you murmur, eyes hazy as they rake over him from his broad chest to his defined abs, then his defined hips to his heavy cock. There’s a cute hue of pink dusting his cheeks at the compliment.
Yunho doesn’t give you a chance to stare at him very much longer before he’s finally ridding you of your shirt, lips meeting yours again the moment it’s tossed. It’s not long before that naughty mouth of his indulges in your breasts, licking and sucking on your hardened nipples like they’re the only thing that will keep him grounded to earth. You’re a moaning mess underneath of him, hands carding through his tresses and lips struggling with telling him how much you love his mouth. He could suck on your beautiful breasts all day but there are more pressing matters at this time.
His eyes never leave yours as he kisses all the way down the expanse of your stomach to the waistband of your panties. Only then does he close his eyes to bury his face in your clothed cunt and take a deep breath, filling his lungs until they feel like they're about to burst. He’s so content that now he can do it knowing the real thing is right underneath. It gets him hard all the same as the laundry room. You watch him grind himself into the mattress for some relief just at the smell of you.
“I’ve never done something like this before,” he divulges, pressing heated kisses into the skin of your sensitive thighs.
“What, eating pussy?” you tease to ease his nerves. He stares pointedly at you from behind your mound.
“You know what I mean.”
Your hand reaches down to find a comforting purchase in his hair, “Neither have I, Yu.”
Yunho can feel himself falling apart faster and faster, and the nickname is not helping him keep it together at all. He hooks his fingers in your panties and gently tugs them down your legs, joining the rest of the discarded clothing on the floor. Your cheeks tingle with heat when his hands spread your legs wider, eyes seemingly mesmerized.
“Such a pretty pussy…” he whispers, marveling at the way your sticky lips tremble when you clench around nothing.
He solves that by pushing in two of those pretty fingers of his, all the way down to the last knuckles. The desperate moan that flies from your lips sends him into a depraved headspace. He immediately latches his mouth onto your throbbing clit and sets to work, thrusting into your squelching squeezing heat and sucking to his heart’s content. Yunho loves eating pussy, truly. There’s something truly cathartic to him about holding a woman’s legs down while she twitches and grinds against his face as he’s slurping up every bit of essence that seeps from her greedy hole. He even removes his fingers and opts for lapping at your heat like a starved man instead. Up and down, left and right… His tongue leaves no inch of your heat untouched. He loves the feeling of your slick coating his face when he pushes his tongue as deep as he can into your hole. He feels your hands yank him by his hair before he can even get to the fun part. He gazes up at you in confusion, mouth messy and eyes indubitably pussy-drunk.
“Please,” you beg, chest heaving, “I want you inside.”
Yunho licks his lips clean before crawling back up your body to fulfill your request. You’re right honestly, there’s only so much grinding he can do into the mattress to ease the ache of his hard cock. He leans over to grab a condom from the nightstand but you pull him back over, mumbling about how you’re on the pill and that it’s fine.
He’s so big, the way he’s engulfing your whole body with you caged between his arms like this. Gazing into your eyes, he drags the blunt tip of his cock back and forth through your dripping folds, occasionally pressing it hard against that clit that he’s taken such a liking to sucking on.
“Hey,” you mumble against his lips, catching the full attention of his blown-out irises. “I can tell you’re nervous. Just relax and lose control, for me. Okay?”
Yunho’s last rope of restraint snaps.
The moment you feel his tip finally breach your entrance, you squeeze your eyes shut and mewl at the feeling of his thick cock sliding into its rightful place. Yes, obviously he’s meant just for your cunt, because you fit like a glove when you're swallowing him in so badly the deeper he pushes. He doesn’t stop until he’s buried to the hilt, despite your squirming and twitching underneath him at the feeling of being so full.  
“I’m about to move,” he pants, adjusting to the feeling of your warm walls squeezing his cock, “Holy fuck.”
When you nod, he finally lets go of his inhibitions. He begins to roll his hips at a nice steady pace, large hands clasped to the backs of your thighs as he pushes them towards your torso. His mouth hangs open in ecstasy and his eyelids lower lazily at the way your walls suck in his cock so tightly and squeeze it like they’re begging to be filled to the brim. You reach up and latch onto his arms to ground yourself, head dizzy and overwhelmed at the feeling of him starting to snap his hips just a little faster now that you’re stretched out a bit more to accommodate him.
“Yunho, fuck, you’re so big,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. Yunho grinds his pelvis into you at this remark, rubbing against your clit with his happy trail.
“And you’re taking me so well,” Yunho praises with a lopsided grin, “Feels good?”
“So fucking good.”
Yunho pushes your legs back even further as he leans in to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss. You’re so pretty with those glassy eyes and those flushed cheeks of yours, but there’s something about that that quivering bottom lip that makes him want to suck every sound from you himself. He finds himself bucking faster and faster, unable to maintain any kind of self-control.
He breaks away to catch his breath, eyes lazy as he groans, “Let me hear you. This is what you wanted, yeah?”
“Mhm, yes, yes,” you whine desperately, “I wanted it so bad. Wanted you so bad.”
You grant him a flurry of shameless bitten-off moans, egging him on further and further. Yunho buries his face into the crook of your neck, making your skin damp between his own warm gasps and grunting obscenities. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this aroused before; yes, he’s so painfully hard at the fleeting thoughts of how inappropriate everything is. He’s your linguistics teacher—he’s not supposed to be teaching your cunt how to mold to the shape of his cock. He’s not supposed to be massaging your clit and babbling nonsense about how he’s going to lick your pussy clean when you cum. How can he say that to a student? However, his eyes roll back at that thought.
“I’m going crazy,” he groans into your skin, mindlessly speaking his thoughts aloud. “I’m so close.”
You’d say the same if you could, but your mouth can’t form proper words with the way his long fingers are rubbing quick messy circles around your clit. Instead, you put your mouth on the shell of his ear and say his name in a filthy mewl. Your legs tense up and your toes curl; Yunho can feel you cum around his cock a beat later, encouraging your convulsing and whimpering. He can only manage to give you a few more rough thrusts before he pulls himself out and allows himself to empty his balls in quick spurts all over your torso, a mix of “fuck” and “____” leaking from his mouth at how filthy the action is, dirtying you like this. He’s a man of his word though, quickly hefting himself back down to your sopping cunt and diving face first to taste everything he missed tasting earlier. The groan of pure bliss he lets out into your sensitive cunt has you squirming away, much to his dismay. But he finds himself chuckling anyway—he got to taste your cum and, even if it was for only a few seconds, he’s satisfied.
Cleaning up and cuddling after is far from awkward, Yunho feels comfortable with his arms wrapped around you and head on your chest. You find yourself mindlessly scratching his scalp and playing with his messy hair, while his large hands massage the muscles of your thighs. It’s immensely intimate, and this scares Yunho deep inside. Unbeknownst to his stress, you’re settling into a mental state of bliss; you can’t wait to see where this night leads you after, even if it might be a little awkward back in the classroom at first. He tries not to dwell on such thoughts for too long, eventually falling asleep under your touch.
Yunho wakes up to a cold, empty bed. Glancing over at the clock on his nightstand, he catches some time he can’t be bothered with reading fully, nine-something-in-the-morning. He groans internally at the bittersweet arrival of the morning. After a few seconds of just lying there, bleary eyes staring at anything and everything, he remembers that he’s not supposed to be alone right now. The grimace that crosses his face is heavy.
He lugs himself up and out of bed to find his phone, which he’s left God knows where. After a bit of searching, he’s even more upset to see a lack of text from you about leaving. Leaving with no word after sex… Yunho has been in this position before and it makes him feel like shit. It feels even worse considering that this is not just some random woman, you are his student. He’s a chronic overthinker, he knows he is. Yet, he can’t stop his mind from filling with a plethora of miserable thoughts about what this could mean.
Did you simply want to fuck him and nothing more?
Did you regret sleeping with him and want to leave without confrontation?
Did you sleep with him to then leave and tell someone, maybe to humiliate him?
All of these thoughts scream at Yunho until he finds himself clenching his jaw, and tears are pricking at his eyes. He hates this feeling every time it happens; it makes him feel like he’s not good enough. In a moment of brief irrationality, Yunho debates if he should outright block you.
He’s impulsive like that when he’s worked up. However, after a few minutes of begging himself to calm down, he tossed his phone away and went on to make a cup of tea to ease his agitation. He knew this was a mistake from the start and he still did it.
He doesn’t get a text from you until after 11 AM.
  [Y/N: sorry for leaving without saying anything!! I forgot I had prior commitments this morning, didn’t wanna text you until I was sure you’d be up. hope you slept well :)]
Yunho doesn’t know what to think. Prior commitments? Surely this would’ve been something you would’ve mentioned before he drove you to his home last night. It is Saturday though, so it’s plausible. He opens the message and leaves you on read instead.
Earlier this morning, you were certain Yunho must have completely tired himself out after sleeping with you because he failed to wake up when your alarms went off. You make a mental note that it only takes him cumming once to make him go comatose (and maybe a little wine to boot). You had left his place with no ill intentions, and your message was truthful. So, when you get left on read by him, it ignites a small flame of insecurity in you. You’re never one to double-text a man, but considering this is something you put a great amount of effort into getting to happen, you put your pride aside when you don't get a reply by the next day.
  [Y/N: Wondering if you want to try a new restaurant after work tomorrow… Let me know if you’re interested!]
To your surprise, Yunho replies that he’s too busy. He doesn’t offer to reschedule for a better day, which isn’t like him. Instead of taking it too seriously and replying something disheartened, you let him know that you understand and to let you know if anything changes. He opens this message and doesn’t reply. You try again on Tuesday. This time, your inquiry is more succinct, no fluff.
  [Y/N: Are you free Wednesday?]
He answers this similarly to the last attempt, maintaining that he’s too busy to see you that day as well. However, this text is more curt than the last. When you cave in and ask him which days he’s not busy, he leaves you on read, again.
  [Y/N: Do you have a free moment to talk then?]
Yunho doesn’t open this text altogether, and the disgruntlement this stirs within you lingers in your system all day, even when you decide to go out with your friends to clear your mind.
Throughout his class with you the following day, you endure Yunho’s eyes practically boring into you at various points in time. It’s like an itch that can’t be scratched, nagging at your scalp while you keep your head downcast towards your laptop. Thoroughly, as distractions do, it keeps you on edge and unfocused throughout the whole lecture. It doesn’t help that Yeosang is out today, so you feel alone even surrounded by so many people.
At some point, during a quiet moment of everyone completing an individual assignment he had handed out, you glance up over the screen of your laptop and catch his attentive eyes gazing back. He gnaws on the nail of this thumb as he usually does when his brain is on overdrive, his eyes calmly lingering on the fixation of all his thoughts. Eventually, he turns them away and decides to focus on something else irrelevant involving his phone. Anything to take you off of his mind.
You quietly snicker to yourself and roll your eyes. So, he can play on his phone just fine during class but can’t find the time to text you and talk? Men will be men… If he just wanted to sleep with you and leave at that, he could at least tell you, you brood. You try not to let it get to you, but it’s hard to focus on anything for the last half hour of class. You don’t bother sticking around after and instead, preoccupy yourself by striking up a conversation with another acquaintance on the way out of the doors. Yunho notices the way you act like he doesn’t exist while leaving and it makes him a bit bitter. He knows it’s irrational, but you’ve really done a number on him, so he can’t help it.
On Thursday, you’re sick of the games altogether. Being the super sleuth you were at the beginning of this mess, you knew when Yunho typically went to his office in between classes to get grading done that he couldn’t do throughout the day. So, when you finish your mathematics class, you pack up your things quickly, knowing he should be roaming this same hall in very little time. There’s one thing–or person, you suppose–that you didn’t account for in this plan.
“You’re terrible at covering hickeys, you know,” Hongjoong chides, eyeing your messy job at applying makeup to your neck.
To be fair to yourself, you hadn’t realized Yunho had sucked one onto your skin the night you both slept together, and the dark blotch was too annoying to deal with every single day. You bruise too easily and they don’t go away fast enough. Admittedly, you had slacked off on the cover-up today. You chalk it up to secretly being in Fight Club, which you remind him, the number rule is to never talk about Fight Club! That, of course, was not a good enough reason for Hongjoong, and you regret that you didn’t acknowledge beforehand he would surely grill you endlessly about your recreational pastimes.
“Okay seriously, I just wore my choker too tight yesterday and it pinched my neck, that's all,” you explain as he quickly follows you out of the classroom. He squints at you with skeptical eyes, as if he is not believing any of the piping hot shit you’re serving him on a platter. Phase two was to gaze at him with winsome eyes, ones he was definitely familiar with. They always worked on Yeosang, but Hongjoong was harder to subdue.
“Don’t.”
“Joong, I’m telling you, there’s nothing more for me to answer here.”
You employ a small pout to boot.
“And you think I believe that?”
“I think you should believe it.”
He rolls his eyes in annoyance. Meanwhile, your eyes inconspicuously search for Yunho in the sea of classmates flooding the hallway; there was a very important conversation you had hyped yourself up to finally have with him. One that surely would not be done if it didn’t get done today, at this very moment. That would obviously fail to happen if Hongjoong kept pestering you with his concerns. Suddenly, your eyes spot the tail end of Yunho’s styled hair turning the corner and leaving the hallway. Goddammit!
“Joong, I really gotta go,” you say frantically and secure your backpack onto your back. His lips open slightly in puzzlement, but there’s nothing he can say before you’re already shoving people out of the way to make it through the hallway to follow him to his office.
You take the stairs while he takes the elevator to waste some time; hopefully, he'll be set up and comfortable by the time you get to his floor. When you make it to his office, he’s indeed already seated and filtering through sheets of work from students during the last class. You don’t bother knocking before entering; he hadn’t afforded you the comfort of manners lately, so neither would you.
Honestly, had anyone else burst into his office so unannounced like this, he might've cussed them out by accident. But before he can get any words out, you can see the physical shift from annoyance to puzzlement wash over his face as he realizes it’s you, then, genuine dread graces his face before downcasting his gaze.
“I need to talk to you,” you insist, “Now.”
He’s having a hard time even meeting your eyes when you’re speaking and it’s pissing you off tremendously.
“I’m a bit busy right now,” he sighs, now in the process of looking through his desk for a pen that works. “It’ll have to wait for another time.”
You ignore him entirely, “Why are you avoiding me, Yunho?”
“I’m not avoiding you,” Yunho quickly objects. “I’m just–”
“You’ve blown me off twice this week already,” you counter. “Now I can’t even come see you at your office?”
Yunho puts his head in his hands and tries to collect his thoughts. He’s too sensitive to handle this conversation with no preparation beforehand. Then again, the longer he keeps isolating, the longer he’s going to keep feeling like shit. He can hear the undertone of hurt in your words, but he’s only doing what’s best for you, right?
“The least you could do is give me a real reason,” you continue. He finally lifts his head and meets your frustrated eyes. “Just give me a real reason to and I’ll fuck-off all you want.”
“____, that night was a mistake,” he tells you simply. The look in his eyes says otherwise. You know he’s lying but it still feels like a punch in the gut.
“A mistake?”
“It’s something that shouldn’t have happened, and it was inappropriate of me to do that with you. Let’s just forget about it and move on, please.”
You furrow your brows in agitation, “You really feel that way?”
“I do,” he murmurs, eyes falling back to the papers in front of him. He visibly hesitates for the briefest moment before picking up his pen and resuming his grading. This feeling of rejection hurts a little more than usual. Why do you feel like a failure? Why do you feel like a fuck-up? Maybe it’s because of the effort you put into this man, unlike many others. You stand there in his doorway uncomfortably silent until you find it in yourself to offer some final words.
“We’re both adults, Yunho,” you remind him in a voice that airs on the more serious side of yourself. He’s never heard you sound such a way with him. “No one has to know what two grown adults do in their free time. And you don’t owe anyone any explanations.”
When he doesn’t look up from his paperwork anymore, you finally leave and gently close the door behind you.
Nearly a week after that day, your phone begins to ring while you’re out at a bar with friends. Yeosang’s nosy eyes catch the name on the screen and he gives you an incredulous look. His name still has a heart beside it and you haven’t updated him on anything regarding Yunho since telling him that you both were texting each other outside of class.
“What is he doing calling you at 9 PM, miss?” he teases as you move your phone to your lap, “Booty call?”
“Would you like to ask him yourself?” you snort.
“Boo, why can I never know anything–”
“Oh but when I mention the obvious hickey, I’m imagining things, huh?” Hongjoong interjects with narrowed eyes when he overhears you both bickering. “Who’s the mystery man?”
“It’s nobody,” both you and Yeosang say in unison.
Hongjoong quirks a brow at how you both are gazing at him with matching smiles, suspiciously. He lets it go quickly and instead butts into Mingi and his girlfriend’s conversation. By the time you glance at your phone, Yunho’s call has already gone fully unanswered. Subsequently, you chose not to return the call later when you’re done and home. You didn’t necessarily want to talk to someone who called such an intimate moment with you a mistake. And especially not intoxicated. If he wants to talk to me that bad, he’d just send whatever he needs to say in a text, you tell yourself. But, of course, those texts don’t come. Yunho doesn’t know how to express himself like that over message. However, after getting wasted, it takes everything within you not to text him first in a fit of overwhelming horniness. What’s the worst that could come from letting him know that you’re craving the feeling of that thick cock of his splitting you open, or how maybe this time you should test out your gag reflex? Yeosang knows you well enough to take your phone from you after a certain amount of shots, so you don’t get that opportunity anyway. God bless your best friend.
A couple of days later, you still find yourself unable to let things go. How can you when Yeosang brings it up any time you speak alone? For someone so sure you were making a huge mistake, he sure is desperate for the tea. It’s like he’s your frontline cheerleader (which he usually is anyway). If he found out you both fucked, surely he’d lose his mind.
“You can’t keep me in the dark, I’m still dying to know how much progress you’re making with Mr. Jeong after seeing him call you that night,” Yeosang pleads, “Have you both met up in private off of campus yet?”
“That’s classified info,” you state and try to stifle your subsequent laughter when you hear him grumble. You still hadn’t found it within yourself yet to tell him that your plan had failed. “You’ll know by if I pass this class or not.”
“Just a little hint, please? I’m on my knees.”
“Progress is being made, Yeo,” you disclose in a sing-song voice. Surely a little white lie wouldn’t hurt in the meantime, “He’s a very good conversationalist, you know. With that deep voice of his, and especially late at night.”
Yeosang groans in annoyance, “You’re killing me ____, I’m too curious! You didn’t entertain a single man at the bar, something juicy has to be happening.”
You debate on at least telling him about the extra study sessions you and Yunho had been having before things were soiled, the innocent stuff that he could gush and tease you over. But, just as you’re about to say something, he cuts you off unknowingly.
“Shit, Mingi’s calling. Le’me call you back,” Yeosang groans, and you offer a hum of affirmation before the line clicks. Maybe it’s for the best that you had been interrupted before you put your foot in your mouth.
You quickly fill the silence by shuffling one of your ‘Doing Chores’ playlists and focusing your mind on cooking the remainder of your dinner. A couple of minutes later, the chime of your phone interrupts your music. You continue to focus on stirring while your other hand carelessly presses the answer option.
“That was quick,” you giggle.
“Felt like forever to me,” a familiar, deep voice replies. You freeze and glance over to see Yunho’s name on the screen of your phone in place of your best friend’s.
  Fuck.
“Good evening, Mr. Jeong,” you reply instead. “I thought you were someone else, my apologies.”
“Have we really already reverted back to the formalities?” he sighs and his voice already sounds a bit defeated.
You roll your eyes, “I’m a bit preoccupied right now. So unless you’d like to discuss my class work, I don’t have time to entertain this.”
“Just give me five minutes, please.”
You turn off the stove and snatch up your phone before ambling to your bedroom.
“Spit it out already, Yunho.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you ____,” he admits.
Hearing you say his first name makes him feel a smidge better, even if it’s in irritation. He wonders if you can feel his heart pounding through the speaker or the way it makes his fingers tremble while holding the phone. “I was just scared, you have to understand that at least. I told you I’ve never done that kind of thing before, ever.”
“Thought it was a mistake–”
“I only said that because you left without saying anything. I thought you regretted it!”
“I literally told you why I did that, you decided to not believe me apparently,” you counter, voice laced with the slightest bit of frustration as you sit on your bed. Then you add in a mutter, “Instead of talking with me like an adult.”
There’s a long moment of silence. He doesn’t hang up though, so neither do you. You stare at the timer under his name, continuing to count up seconds full of emptiness.
“I’m really sorry,” Yunho finally sighs. “I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. I was just scared.” You remain silent and it eats at his confidence slowly. He’s desperate and doesn’t really care if it shows at this point, so he goes on to fill the silence again, “You were right, we’re adults. It’s not anybody else’s business what happens outside of campus. That’s why I’m trying to fix things now. Please.”
You sigh heavily while stroking your temples. This conversation is not something you had prepared yourself for, but the desperation in his voice is hitting you right in the gut. You know he’s being sincere, but it’s just hard to make yourself that vulnerable as well. You both know the truth is that it’s not okay, none of this is. It’s all extremely inappropriate. What you are doing with each other could ruin both of your lives if found out before you graduate. It’s risky; and yet, you still find yourself saying a sentence you definitely shouldn’t be saying:
“Listen, I genuinely like you Yunho.”
“And I genuinely like you too, ____. So let me take you on a proper date,” he says a little too hastily, but he can’t stop himself from the excitement that bubbles inside of him, stemming solely from you even reciprocating his feelings, “And not just a dinner like usual, I mean something thoughtful.”
“Something thoughtful…” you repeat after him, accidentally punctuating it with a giggle at how foolish the whole situation seems. “Are you serious about that?”
“Absolutely,” he assures you, “Only if you want to, of course.”
You sigh and smile to yourself at how heartfelt he sounds. Sure, there are millions of ways this could go extremely wrong, but you decide to ignore those thoughts and take him up on his offer. If you were one to listen to the better part of your judgment, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this situation in the first place. It would be a shame to let that work you put in go to waste just because of a little hiccup in the road. Besides, Yunho was surely the best fuck you had received in quite some time. There was plenty of time through the rest of the semester to explore that side of him again as well. The conversation ends with you both agreeing to meet with each other in a few days, Yunho promising to make it enjoyable even though it’ll be discrete.
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♡ taglist for those who replied to my interest post: @yeos-bunny @sharksandminhos @sannieluvrr
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roseykat · 1 year
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TITLE: How they are when they cum
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SYNOPSIS: OT8 version of...the title x
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.
TAGS: mentions/descriptions of orgasms, blowjobs, sex positions. Nothing too major.
A/N: Take this as a filler while I wrap up my post for Shutterfly Butterfly. I actually really enjoyed creating these blurbs and will do more in the future.
BANG CHAN
Groans and grunts. He’s pretty vocal in bed and on the very strong occasion where he cums as hard as he always does, he’ll announce it, and it’s the hottest thing ever. There’s nothing sexier than a man expressing how much pleasure they’re in through such an erotic thing. Usually his moans and incoherent words sound so panicked before he combusts inside of you, like he’s dying to cum but doesn’t want to yet so as to savour your warm, wet, heat wrapping around his cock. 
-
MINHO
Is gripping onto you when he cums. Whether it’s by digging his nails into the skin and flesh of your hips or ass, grabbing a fistful of your hair, groping your tits - he needs something to help him channel such a surge of pleasure when he orgasms. His moans are very breathy and very consistent. He won’t always announce that he’ll cum but you can tell when he does. If it’s not the warm load inside of you, it’ll be the silence he exudes that will give it away. For some reason, that’s how you can identify how hard he’s actually cumming. 
-
CHANGBIN
Will not shut up, and you don’t want him to either. Every ounce of pleasure he gets from fucking you, sends him into another realm. But when he cums? A whole other level. The pleasure is out of his depth that it rattles throughout every cell in his body. His eyes will flutter, mouth slightly ajar for your name to spill out. When he cums, he also has the tendency to bury his face into your neck, depending on the position. Not because he’s ashamed, but because he just doesn’t know how to deal with the overwhelming waves of euphoria. 
-
HYUNJIN
He will moan your name repeatedly and it’ll be in the most beautiful airy voice known to this earth. Sometimes he can be quiet but not intentionally. He’s just trying his best not to cum so quickly and feels that hearing his own moans mixed with yours will get him there faster when he actually wants to drag out how good he feels for as long as he can. He’ll mutter quietly to you against your lips that he’s ‘gonna cum’ and when he does, his forehead might rest on yours or he’s kissing you as he’s cumming, and he’s all flustered and rushed. 
-
HAN
Whiny. Whiny as fuck and whimpers. He tries to stifle his moans with the back of his hand or maybe he’ll be biting down on your shoulder or something. But when you have both of his hands cuffed or pinned by the sides of his head when you ride him, he is the loudest, whiniest person in existence. You’ve even thought about gagging him, especially before he cums at least. He’s so prone to being overstimulated a lot and has most definitely cried before when you’ve made him orgasm. 
-
FELIX
Will most likely say to you “gonna make me cum,” every time the two of you have sex or you’re giving him head, right before he orgasms. He wants you to know that you’re the one unraveling his sanity for a good thirty seconds. Felix is vocal, loud, and almost borderline whiny. Despite having such a deep voice, his whimpers can be the complete opposite. It’s just a sign that he’s struggling to deal with so much pleasure that his body can possibly handle. 
-
SEUNGMIN
Sometimes he might hold his breath when he cums because he is just in so much of a state of pleasure, his body doesn’t know how to react. Therefore, you might not always get sounds out of him - which is good because that’s how you know he’s cumming hard. If you’re perhaps giving him a blowjob, his head will tip back, voice lodged in his throat until he’s spilling white wherever you’ll let him. But in the few seconds after he cums, Seungmin is either swearing or moaning as well; most of the time, both.
-
JEONGIN
Similar to most; moans a lot to a T. He can get sort of embarrassed by it even though you reassure him that it’s okay to express how good you feel in the moment, especially after you told him how much you like it. From there he’s become a bit more relaxed and now he won’t hold back. They’re sort of high pitched, but low and strained in some cases when he’s absolutely railing you. Will also breathe out “baby” over and over again as he approaches the edge of his orgasm.
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mozzzz05 · 2 months
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I hate to bitch but… I’m going to:
There was just? So much wrong this season and not even because I wasn’t a fan of the ending - in fact, I quite liked that they were 8 little marigolds together - but the rest of it!?
There’s at least three plot lines that added fuck all to the story - and I’m all for fluffing out the stories/characters, love me a filler episode - but not only did we not have time for a filler episode with 4 less episodes than usual those plot lines added nothing to the characters or the story or anything really.
Klaus getting kidnapped (again), no one noticing (again) - getting possessed & having sex, getting buried alive (again, if ykyk) apart from Alison going to save him - what did it add? - I love Klaus he’s literally my favourite character, I always want more Klaus but it kind of feels like they didn’t know what to do with him? - “let’s make him relapse and do some crazy stuff, for shits and giggles!”
Diego & Luther going to the CIA - this is the one I see the most sense in of course, but apart from making Diego realise that he shouldn’t take Lila and his kids for granted and announcing that the CIA guy was part of the whole Jean & Gene cult thing (and getting to see David Castañeda’s abs (despite supposedly having a Dad Bod now?)) it kind of went on too long? It felt like it was slightly misplaced? Idk
And of course, how could it go unmentioned - the Five/Lila romance? whAT THE FUCK!??? Like it’s creepy both ways bcos Ritu Arya is 15 years older than Aidan Gallagher - freshly legal - and because Five is nearly 70 at that point? And that’s without even mentioning the fact that, oh yeah - Lila’s married to his BROTHER? But if you took it out - what would change? Genuinely? That Lila will always choose her family? Choose Diego? Tbh she could easily come to that conclusion without any romance, she clearly longed to go back more than Five did (who btw, abandoned his family after spending his entire life trying to save them - WHAT?)
The only one making any progress was Viktor
And so many things left unexplained- why did Ray leave Alison? What happened to Dave? (Guessing he’s long dead now but we still don’t know if Klaus’ s2 plan had any effect & the only hint of him we got this season was the dog tags (more than last season at least)) Why is Reggie a fucking alien? How did he get to earth??
I just feel so unpleasantly underwhelmed for a show that has meant so much to me the past few years, for an ending that was mildly disappointing but not as much as the 4 episodes that came before it.
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laurenairay · 1 month
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felt like magic - N. Hischier
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Summary: Nico has been pining for years – maybe this summer is a chance to finally do something about his feelings for you.
I’m jumping in as a pinch-hitter as part of @wyattjohnston's summer fic exchange 2k24, with a Nico Hischier story for @selfindulgentpoorlywritten! I really hope you enjoy this – I had a lot of fun creating something from the prompts you gave me. And who doesn’t love Summer Nico?
Words: 2.6k
Warnings: pining, childhood friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, some bad language
Title (and song lyrics) from Caffeine, by Jack Kays
~
Stay with me, If it’s not our time then will you wait for me? I know that we’re young, but this is destiny I couldn’t be me without you, without you
~
Travelling from Bern to Zurich wasn’t something you’d do for just anyone. An hour and a half driving across the country, surrounded by drivers who were just as impatient to get through their journeys as you were? Not your idea of fun. At least the destination was more than worth it.
“Happy birthday Jonas!”
The man in question turned around at the sound of your voice, a big grin sliding onto his face.
“You made it, liebling! Thanks for coming!” Jonas said happily.
It wasn’t every year that you got to celebrate the birthday of one of your favourite people – early May wasn’t exactly the most consistent time of year for hockey players after all. And the last thing you wanted to do was remind him of the early end to his season. So when Jonas had called you to say that he was hosting a birthday party at his house in Zurich and invited you to spend the weekend, there was no way you were saying no.
“As if I’d miss the event of the summer,” you teased.
Jonas just beamed at you.
“Schatzi! You survived the A1!”
You peered around Jonas’s broad shoulders to see another one of your favourite people – Nico. It was through Nico, one of your childhood best friends – that you’d met Jonas in the first place so you should’ve guessed that he wouldn’t be too far away. Usually you would’ve made the journey with Nico, both of you coming from Bern after all, but he’d already been visiting in Zurich so you’d been stuck with a solo trip this time.
And damn did he look good. It wasn’t something that you let yourself think about often, being just his friend, but Nico was genuinely one of the most handsome people you’d ever seen, let alone become good friends with. It wouldn’t do you any good to travel down that road of thoughts though, so you were always careful to nip those feelings in the bud. You were friends. Great friends. Incredible friends, and that’s how it was always going to be.
“I’m here,” you mused, “had to greet the birthday boy before anyone else.”
“Yeah don’t be jealous,” Jonas teased.
Interestingly, Nico blushed slightly and glared at the taller man, before clearing his throat. “Can I get you a drink?”
“I’ll grab something myself in a minute, but thank you,” you said, smiling sweetly, “Let me just give Jonas his birthday present first.”
You handed over the thick envelope, Jonas eagerly ripping into it, making you laugh softly.
“Oh shit, you’re the best,” Jonas gasped.
“And don’t you forget it,” you teased.
“What did you get?” Nico asked, curious.
“A tattoo voucher. Far more than enough to cover the gap fillers I’ve been looking at getting. This is amazing, thank you, this is way too generous,” Jonas explained, looking gratefully at you.
“You’re welcome. I know you’ve been talking about filling the spaces for a while,” you shrugged.
While you didn’t have any tattoos of your own, you knew how Nico and Jonas felt about their own tattoos, and how much they meant to them – it was an easy decision.
“Are we ever going to get you into a tattoo chair, hm?” Nico teased.
“Maybe if I have someone holding my hand,” you teased back, trying to fight the giddy heat rising to your cheeks.
His lips parted slightly in shock, speechless for once, Jonas just cackling at his response.
“And on that note, I’m going to go say hi to Andreas and Julia. See you both later?” you grinned.
“Yeah, see you liebling,” Jonas nodded.
Nico just nodded, cheeks aflame. His silence was a bit concerning – he wasn’t exactly one to be shy or awkward, especially not around you – but you knew Jonas would figure out whatever was going on with him. Hopefully.
~
“So that was smooth,” Jonas mused.
“Shut up,” Nico groaned.
“No really, that was one of your best efforts,” Jonas snickered.
“You’re the worst,” Nico shot back.
He ran a hand through his hair, watching you walk across the backyard with a confidence he wished he had. There was just something about you that had always reduced him to feeling like a hapless fool, ever since he’d first moved to Bern as a teenager and met you within the first few weeks of living there. You’d been a constant feature in his life for 10 years now, always there with a wide smile and open arms whether it was in Bern, Zurich, or New Jersey, and he didn’t know what he would do with his life if you weren’t in it.
Nico was head over heels in love with you, and you had no idea.
Everyone else in his life knew how he felt for you, obviously, not just Jonas. His parents, his siblings, even Jack had figured it out within an hour of your first visit to New Jersey all those years ago. If Jack Hughes of all people could read it off his face then he didn’t know how much more obvious he could be – other than actually telling you with words, of course.
But how could he say anything to you, when he knew for certain that you didn’t feel the same way?
~
“Are you sure your billet family don’t mind us being down here?”
Nico smiled down at you, shaking his head. The two of you were down in the basement where his billet family’s entertainment room was, the rest of the house having gone out for the night, and Nico had invited you round for a movie night. He’d only been in Bern for a few weeks, and you were the only non-hockey friend he’d made so far, so he hadn’t hesitated to invite you over to get to know you better.
There was just something about you that made him want to put in the effort
“They really don’t mind. They even left us money for takeout,” he insisted.
“Oh, well alright then. What are we watching first?”
The evening flew by, pizza ravenously consumed between movies, the two of you shifting closer and closer on the sofa until you were fully leaning up against each other, Nico’s hockey bulk giving you a solid pillow to rest on. He didn’t mind it at all, if he was being honest with himself, although he wasn’t quite sure what that meant.
“That was so terrible though! They had no chemistry at all!” you giggled as the credits rolled.
“I guess not all actors are going to like kissing everyone they work with,” Nico snickered.
Even in the dim light of the room, he noticed the heat that rushed to your cheeks.
“What?” Nico frowned.
“It’s nothing,” you said, shaking your head quickly.
He might not know you that well yet, but he knew that was a lie.
“Come on, tell me what’s wrong?” he prompted.
“You’re going to think I’m stupid.”
“We’re 15 years old – everything we do is stupid,” Nico pointed out.
You huffed out a laugh, breath a little shaky. “I was just thinking about the fact that I wouldn’t know what it was like.”
“What what was like?” Nico asked, confused.
“To kiss someone,” you all but whispered.
His lips parted in surprise, not expecting those words to fall from your lips, and you immediately grimaced.
“See I told you it was stupid,” you groaned.
As you shifted to move away from him, Nico instinctively gripped your shoulder, not letting you go. You startled but looked up at him, staying silent in confusion.
“It’s not stupid. Not everyone has had their first kiss. You’re only 15,” he murmured.
“You’ve kissed someone though?”
Nico bit his bottom lip but nodded. He’d had multiple kisses, all harmless, all essentially meaningless, he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Kissing was fun – he always liked the way it made his heart race with adrenaline.
And it was the memory of that feeling that fuelled his bravery.
“I could kiss you, if you want?”
“What?”
He took a steadying breath, before nodding. “I could kiss you. So you have a good first kiss, with a friend.”
There was nothing worse than doing something scary for the first time only to have someone make you feel like an idiot. If Nico could stop that feeling for you, then he absolutely would.
“Are you sure?” you said hesitantly, “You really don’t have to.”
“Of course I am,” he said, smiling to reassure you.
He could feel how fast your heart was beating as he rested a hand on the side of your neck, echoing the beating of his own heart. You closed your eyes as he leaned down towards you, making him smile slightly before he pressed his lips to yours. As he slowly kissed you, he could feel how hesitant and nervous you were, but as you continued to kiss him back he didn’t regret his offer for a moment. Nico kissed you over and over and over again, almost feeling dizzy with how the embrace was consuming him, his thumb stroking over your jaw as you melted into his arms. This was heaven. This was bliss. This was everything he didn’t realise he’d wanted.
After what felt like hours, but could only have been a few moments, you pulled away from the kiss. Nico made a soft noise of protest, opening his eyes to see you looking stunned, lips as swollen as his felt.
“Schatzi,” he managed to murmur.
You just bit your bottom lip, smiling softly, before leaning backwards out of his hands. He tried not to frown, not understanding why his heart was pounding, even though you didn’t look mad.
“I should probably get home. My parents will be wondering where I am by now,” you said, voice quiet, almost as if you were still a little in shock.
Nico glanced at the clock on the wall, grimacing at the late hour. Where had the time gone? Did you really have to leave, after a kiss like that?
“O-Okay, if you’re sure. Text me when you get back safe?”
“I will. See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, tomorrow.”
~
After that kiss 10 years ago, the two of you had never spoken about it again. The morning after you’d acted like nothing had ever happened, and Nico had been too nervous to say anything to risk losing the blossoming friendship. He knew now that it was his first experience of heartbreak, as youthful and innocent as that had been – and he also knew that’s when he’d first started having feelings for you. What was meant to have been a friend helping out another friend had started a decade of unrequited feelings, and it was far too late for him to say anything now.
He could only hold on to the incredible friendship that had grown between the two of you with both hands. If this was all he could ever have then he was going to cherish it, no matter how what Jonas said.
“Come on bud, let’s get you a drink,” Jonas said, smiling sadly.
Nico huffed out a laugh but nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m going to need one.”
~
Hours passed by, drinking, eating, catching up with friends and making new ones, until the evening was late and only the last few straggling partygoers were making their way out of the house. You’d volunteered to start cleaning up while Jonas said goodbye to his guests, needing something to do after a long day of socialising. You were making good progress on cleaning up the empty food containers and empty drink bottles when Nico wandered into the living room, holding out a bottle of water for you.
“Looks like thirsty work,” he grinned, leaning against the arm of the sofa.
“Thanks, you should try it some time,” you teased, taking the bottle from him.
You unscrewed the cap and took a couple of long gulps with your head tilted back, needing the refreshment more than you thought, but when you put the cap back on the bottle, you noticed Nico staring at you transfixed.
“What?” you frowned, “Did I spill some water?”
“No, no, it isn’t that,” he said quickly, cheeks heating.
Why was he blushing? What was going through his mind?
“Then what is it?” you prompted, putting the bottle down on the table.
“It’s just…I was thinking about…well…”
“Yes?” you prompted again, a soft smile on your face at his awkwardness.
“It wouldn’t take a tattoo for me to hold your hand,” he blurted out.
“What?”
What was he talking about…oh. Oh. What?
“Wait, shit, no, that came out wrong…”
Nico trailed off with a groan, punctuated only by the sound of a snort. You whirled around to see Jonas standing in the doorway, and he cackled at the look on both your faces.
“Yeah I’m going upstairs. Have fun dealing with your years of feelings,” Jonas grinned, shaking his head.
Oh damn. Jonas knew?
Wait, years of feelings?
With that he left you and Nico alone, a murmur suspiciously sounding like ‘lovestruck idiots’ lingering behind him. Hesitantly you looked back at Nico to see his face full of embarrassment, cheeks tinged with red.
“What was Jonas talking about?” you asked, voice a little shaky.
Because you were damn sure that Jonas didn’t know a thing about how you felt for Nico. So he had to be talking about Nico…which only succeeded in sending your heart into a flutter.
“This was not how I wanted it all to come out,” he murmured.
“Nico, please. No more talking in circles,” you all but begged.
He inhaled shakily but nodded, finally looking you in the eyes once more. “I’ve loved you ever since the movie night where we kissed.”
Your breath hitched in your throat. “That was 10 years ago, Nico. We were 15! You’ve loved me since then?”
Ten long years.
“I know,” he winced, “But yes, since then.”
“You never said anything?” you said hesitantly.
Not about the kiss, and not about his feelings.
“You didn’t either? I mean, like, we never talked about the kiss. At all. I just assumed you didn’t say anything because you regretted it, and there was no way I wanted to lose you as a friend,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Of all the things he could’ve said.
“I thought you regretted it,” you admitted, “You were this up-and-coming hockey star, and I was just the neighbour down the street.”
Nico burst out laughing, hands rising to cover his face briefly.
“We’re both idiots,” he managed to choke out between laughs, “maybe me more than you.”
Maybe.
Maybe you both were idiots, but that didn’t mean you had to waste any more time. If Nico really wanted to try being more than friends, you weren’t about to stop him.
“Hey Nico?” you said, reaching forward to place a hand on his chest.
You could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the rapid beat of his heart, but it was the hope in his eyes that gave you courage.
“Yes, schatzi?”
“It’s been a long ten years…kiss me again?”
Nico’s only response was to do as you’d asked.
~
I’m sitting patiently, Hoping for the day to come where you can see, All the stars, they fall in line for you and me, I can’t wait for you to see too, yes, you’ll do.
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heavenlyhischier · 8 months
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞
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word count: 3.8k
summary: Opening the wrong door ends up changing everything you thought you knew.
warnings: some angst, drinking, kissing but nothing too heavy, poorly translated german, unedited
note: this is a bit of a filler part because the next one has a lot going on and i already yapped too much in this part ahahah. it would've been well over 10k words if i kept going
series masterlist | prev part
When you heard the bartender slide your drinks across the wooden countertop, you quickly grabbed your own and practically ran away from the situation before you. The sense of embarrassment became almost overwhelming, and you needed to get away from them as soon as possible before you threw up. You didn’t spare another glance at Nico as he fell into a tense conversation with Julia. Though, you felt his stare on your back as you darted through the crowd of people. 
When you reached the group, both her and Nina gave you curious looks when they noticed your red cheeks and heavy breathing, but you didn’t give them time to ask about it before you started your own conversation. Charlie was focused on you while Nina searched for her younger brother in the sea of unfamiliar faces, and her face noticeably fell when she saw who had attached themselves to him. Elbowing Luca in the side, she jerked her head towards the direction of Nico and mumbled something to him in their mother tongue. 
“Jack said you need to facetime him soon,” Charlie spoke over the music and loud conversations around you.
“Why can’t he tell me that,” You playfully rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your drink in hopes it would dislodge your heart that was currently stuck in your throat. 
“He said he did,” She exclaimed, her laughter bouncing around you before her voice went slightly more serious, “I know you miss him, too. Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s sad you haven’t been texting him as much since we got here. He feels like you’re upset with him.”
“What,” You gasp, slightly thrown off by her comment, “I have been texting him!”
“Well, I know, but he says it’s just surface level stuff. You don’t actually talk to him,” She shrugs, trying to hide the look of shock on her face as Nico approaches with a girl at his side.
Charlie’s comments ring in your ears, and you tear through your memories trying to figure out if you were the one that had been off rather than him. Looking back on it, you had, albeit unintentionally, stopped telling Jack as much about your trip as you usually would have. It wasn’t out of anger or frustration, but it was because you assumed Charlie was telling him everything and you didn’t want to repeat the same things to him over again. Or maybe it was because so much of your trip had been centered around you ignoring your blossoming feelings for his friend and you were afraid to admit that to him. 
You opened your mouth to say something in response, but your voice was smothered by the same one still echoing in your mind from the bar. Charlie’s hand reaches out to grab your own, gently squeezing it as she politely greets Julia as she introduces herself. You’re avoiding looking in their direction, putting all of your focus on the drink in your hand, but you know he’s looking at you. If it wasn't the hair sticking up on the back of your neck, it was your friend's harsh glare pointing in his direction.
“I need to use the restroom, do you guys want to come with,” Nina quickly asks, ignoring the way Nico is silently begging her to help him as Julia turns all of her attention back to him.
“Yeah, I need to go, too,” You forced out, throwing the rest of your still very full drink back down your throat.
You carefully placed your cup on the table before you let Charlie tug you away from the group, but you couldn’t stop yourself from passing a glance to Nico. He was already looking at you, his gaze soft and apologetic as he watched you run away from him for the second time in the span of ten minutes. You felt tears pricking the corner of your eyes, and you had to force yourself to look away before you let your emotions get the better of you. 
You felt pathetic for letting something like that get to you, especially given the fact that Nico was nothing more than a friend. A part of you was still reeling from the moment in his parents kitchen, and you let yourself grab onto the hope that he did in fact feel the same way about you. The idea of that being true clouded your judgment, but it was Nico’s own actions that cleared your mind and reminded you that you were simply too unrealistic.
The three of you piled into the smaller sized bathroom, Nina stepping into the stall first as you leaned against the cool tile wall and let your eyes flutter closed. Charlie watches the way your entire body relaxes, and a part of her wanted to go back out there and tear into Nico herself, but she knew better. She knew it would only make you feel worse.
When Nina came out, you slipped into the stall after her and pulled your phone out of your dress pocket. You typed out a quick message to Jack, asking him if he wanted to facetime sometime tomorrow after you’d arrived back at Nico’s apartment. You could hear Nina and Charlie whispering to each other, but they were being quiet enough that it was incoherent to you.
“You know,” You called out as you stepped out of the stall, “You guys don’t have to whisper. I’m not a child.”
“We know,” Charlie sighed, eyes soft and careful, “It’s just– Are you okay? Do you want to leave?”
“I have no problem taking you back to my parents,” Nina cut in, “We can have a girls night.”
“No, absolutely not,” You shook your head as you dried your hands, “I am fine. We’re here to have fun, and that’s what we’re going to do!”
You brushed past the two of them and out of the bathroom, their footsteps trailing behind you shortly after. You make a stop at the bar, ordering another drink for yourself while they order their own. It was easy to fall in conversation with them and go with the flow, but the nagging feeling of Nico being side by side with his ex-girlfriend was still there. You weren’t going to let it ruin your night, though. You weren’t going to give them that much power.
When you returned to the group, you did your best to focus on everything but him. You talked with those around you, laughed with them, you even went out and danced with Charlie and Nina for a bit. You felt yourself grow lighter as the night went on, though that was greatly due to the alcohol, and you let your feelings for Nico go for the time being.
Nico had rarely taken his eyes off of you a single time during the night despite the girl next to him begging for his attention. He watched the way your face lit up as you mingled with his hometown friends despite the occasional language barrier. He watched as you danced with your friend, your hips moving with the music in a way that had your dress lifting up a little too much. Nico didn’t care about Julia as she droned on about how she had missed seeing him. The only thing he cared about was you.
As the night came to an end, Julia was still following him around a puppy, and your buzz had died down enough for you to let it slightly sour your mood all over again. Charlie had her arm wrapped around you as she guided you out of the bar, telling you that the two of you were going to ride back to the Hischier household with Nina and Finn. She didn’t miss the way Nico looked as if he’d been punched in the gut as you followed his sister, but she said nothing as she climbed in the car after you.
You kept your head turned towards the window the entire short drive to their house, slowly falling into the darkest parts of your thoughts. Images of Nico and Julia slowly became warped in your mind, twisting themselves to make it seem like he was giving in to her and returning her advances. It was becoming easier to believe that the brief moment in the kitchen truly meant nothing to him, and that thought alone made you want to book a flight back home tomorrow.
When you’d finally arrived back at their house, the four of you quietly filtered inside, careful to not make too much noise and wake the parents. Nina attempted to point out what room the bathroom was as you passed by, but you were only halfway paying attention as Charlie began to slump into your side. She pushed the door to the guest room open and pointed to where her mother had left some clothes for the two of you to change into before her and Finn retreated to her own room.
Charlie was nearly asleep by the time she sat on the bed, but you managed to keep her awake just long enough to take her makeup off with the wipes they left on the dresser, and to help her change into different clothes. You knew getting her out of the bed was going to be impossible now, so you pulled the blanket backwards and delicately tucked her underneath it.
With Charlie already sound asleep in the guest room, you tiptoed down the hallway to where you thought Nina had saidthe bathroom was. You had sobered up quite a bit from when you were at the bar, but your memory of which room was which was a bit foggy, so you weren’t all that shocked that there was a bedroom behind the door you opened. 
Nico turned around at the sound of his door opening ready to tell Nina to go away, that he’d got enough of a lecture from Luca already, but he froze when he saw you standing in the doorway. Your eyes were innocently scanning his room, your face still flushed from the warmth of the bar mixed with the alcohol undoubtedly still in your system. Finally, your gaze found him tucked away by his old dresser and your mouth dropped open.
“I’m sorry,” You rushed out, embarrassment pricking your skin, “I thought this was the bathroom! I just– I can’t remember where it is. I got a little turned around, I think, I’m so sorry.”
Nico can’t help but smile at how easily flustered you got, but he was quick to grow serious and call out your name whenever you turned around to leave. You slowly spun back around on your heels as Nico took the few steps needed to be right in front of you. It was as if the air had been sucked right out of your lungs as you peered up at him, waiting for him to say something. To break the unnerving tension surrounding you. 
“It’s okay. I actually wanted to talk to you,” He quietly spoke, voice anxious and hesitant, “Can you come sit for a minute? I understand if you’re tired, but I wanted to explain myself.”
Your heart was beating so loudly in your chest that it was ringing in your ears, goosebumps decorating the exposed skin of your arms as nerves tore through your body. You managed a weak nod, not necessarily trusting your voice to not give away how nervous you were, and hastily followed behind Nico as he walked towards his bed. The door fell shut behind you, the clicking echoing around the room as you carefully took the seat next to him.
You made sure to keep an appropriate distance between the two of you, keeping your eyes on your lap that held your anxious hands. You were picking at the loose strands on the hem of your dress, the silence slowly suffocating you as Nico gathered his thoughts. The longer you sat there, the worse you got into your own head, and it was becoming a dangerous place to be.
“I wanted to apologize for not spending time with you tonight,” He began, taking a deep breath as he looked at you, “I want you to know that she, Julia– It isn’t like that. It hasn’t been for a long long time.”
“Nico, you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” You weakly smiled, turning your head to meet his eyes.
“I do,” He stressed, his voice desperate and eyes pleading,  “I do. I need you to know that I did that because if I didn’t, she wouldn’t leave you alone. She’s like a geier(vulture)– I don’t know the word in English. She tries to convince me to try again with her every summer, and she’s terrible to any woman she sees me talking to. I couldn’t put you through that.”
Nico’s confession hung in the air around you, and everything you thought you knew, everything you convinced yourself to be true, slowly tore itself down in your mind until it was nothing but dust. Your jaw was agape and your eyes swimming with a multitude of emotions that Nico couldn’t read as it was now he who was being suffocated by your silence. It had only been a few seconds, but to him it felt like hours. 
“So, you mean that you— That you didn’t want,” Your sentence trailed off, swallowing thickly as you suddenly felt insecure under his gaze.
“I mean that I want nothing to do with her, and everything to do with you,” Nico breathed out, his directness shocking even himself, though he credited it to the liquid courage still in his veins, “Earlier, in the kitchen, I was so close to finally getting to kiss you. For the last three and a half years, I’ve wanted to, but of course my brother had to ruin that.”
 Nico’s nervous chuckle collided with his words that were still ringing in your ears, but that didn’t stop your own words from tumbling from your lips, “Try again.”
It was his turn to go slack jawed as he searched your eyes for a trace of insincerity or doubt, but truthfully, Nico hadn’t seen a more certain look on your face the entire trip. You had turned your body almost entirely towards him, your knees nearly touching his as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth in anticipation. Your entire body had relaxed, though your hands were still nervously clasped in your lap.
You could sense the hesitation radiating off him, and you scooted closer to him so that now your thighs were pressed against his own. Time seemed to still as the two of you leaned in towards each other, his gaze never breaking away from your face. Your eyes darted down to his lips, your heart racing in your chest as the moment you’ve been waiting years for was finally coming together.
Nico paused when he was centimeters away from your face, worry written in the way his brows were pulled together and his eyes bore into your own, “Are you sure this is okay?”
“Nico,” You breath out, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
You lean forward, your eyes fluttering closed as you close the small gap between the two of you. Your lips delicately collide with his, meshing together in a way that one could only dream of. It was the kind of kiss that was sweet and simple, yet so much emotion was being poured into it. It was the kind of kiss that told you this was only the beginning. 
Nico’s hand comes out to find a hold on your hip, while your hands find purchase on his thigh as you lean into him, but you know you’re going to have to pull away to breathe soon. You’re the first to break the contact, slowly pulling away from him as you open your eyes to find him already looking at you. Your eyes dance across his face, taking in the way his cheeks are slightly flushed and his eyes are hooded, with only the sound of your breathing filling the space around you.
The grip he has on your hip tightens as he watches you, waiting to see if you’re going to pull away completely or if you want the same thing that he does. Through a burst of confidence and courage, you loop your hands around the back of his neck and slam your lips on his in a bruising kiss. Nico’s quick to react, moving you onto his lap so you’re straddling him as he grips both of your hips and moves his mouth against your own. 
Your hands tangle in his hair as you pour everything you can into kissing him; everything you had been keeping buried for years was coming out in the way you were kissing him. It was dizzying, blinding and desperate as the two of you clung to each other as if you were afraid the moment wasn’t real. You’re still not convinced that it is, and that you’re going to wake up in bed any moment to find yourself in the same position you’d been in for the last almost four years.
Your dress had ridden up to your hips, the cool air making goosebumps rise on the newly exposed skin of your thighs, or maybe it was from the man underneath you. You can feel his hand slide down your hips, the pad of his thumb grazing the skin as you slowly and carefully push yourself down onto him. A quiet groan slips past his lips, vibrating against your mouth before he begins to kiss down your jaw. 
He places open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, your head tilted back to give him better access. He gently lets his teeth bite down on the skin where your collarbone and neck meet, a quiet whimper falling from your lips as you feel his tongue run over the spot he had surely left a mark on, but you can’t bring yourself to care about that. All you care about is the way his lips feel and the way he feels beneath you. 
“Ich muss mit mir reden,” Nina’s voice interrupts, the two of you springing apart to turn and look at her with wide eyes. She freezes in the doorway when her eyes finally land on you straddling her brother and she’s quick to rush out of the room, yelling behind her, “Ach du lieber Gott! Es tut mir so leid!” (I need to talk to– Oh my god! I’m so sorry!)
You and Nico stare at the door as it closes behind her, embarrassment flooding the both of you at being caught making out in Nico’s childhood bedroom by his older sister. You glance at him, and you can’t help but giggle at the way his mouth is dropped in shock and how he’s still looking at the spot his sister briefly occupied. When he hears your delicate laugh, he turns towards and flexes his hands against you.
“It’s not funny,” He groans, his forehead falling to your shoulder, “Both my sister and my brother have ruined the moment. In the same day!”
“It’s kinda funny,” You laugh as you run your fingers through his hair, “That’s what you get for waiting to kiss me until we’re surrounded by your family.”
“There haven’t been many other opportunities,” He points out, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you close to him, “I feel like that’s my fault, though.”
You hear the way his voice slightly drops, and you can’t help but pull away so you could see him.  You place your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back so he’s looking at you. His eyes are soft and sad as he tries to force a small smile to his face as if he was joking, but you knew better.
“It’s no one’s fault. Maybe it was just never the right time,” You tried to explain, your gaze unwavering from his own. 
A comfortable silence fell around the two of you, and Nico had pulled you back into his chest as he let himself revel in the moment. He’d been thinking about this for years, and now that it finally happened he didn’t want to let it go. He didn’t want to let you go. He was going to hold you close to him, literally and figuratively, as long as you would let him.
“Nico,” You whispered after what simultaneously felt like forever and not long enough, “I should probably go back to the room and sleep.”
His arms tighten around you, his voice vibrating against your neck as he speaks, “Yeah. I’m sure Charlie’s wondering where you are.”
“She’s asleep,” You laugh, “I’m just a little exhausted from everything today and I need to sleep, too.”
Nico was a second away from telling you that you could stay, but he’s certain that would freak you out. It would be a bit too fast considering the two of you hadn’t even really talked about how you felt or what came after the kiss. So instead of potentially scaring you off, Nico begrudgingly drops his hold on you and helps you off his lap.
You pull your dress back down to its original length, a sudden sense of slight insecurity washed over you that you were just an easy target for Nico. Deep down, you knew he wouldn’t do that, but it was still a doubt in your mind as you awkwardly stood in front of him before you quietly asked him where the bathroom was.
“Door across from mine,” He said, but he grabbed your hand to keep you from walking away, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just tired,” You weakly smiled as he rubbed small circles on your hand, “Long day today.”
Nico didn’t believe you, and you knew that he didn’t based on the way he slightly raised his brows and narrowed his eyes, but he dropped your hand nonetheless. The two of you exchanged quiet goodnights before you carefully slipped out his room, a little nervous that you were going to run into his siblings. Thankfully the hallway was clear and you were able to go into the bathroom undetected.
When you were finally tucked into bed next to Charlie, you couldn’t help but smile as it all finally settled in. You’d kissed Nico. He kissed you. It was real. While the doubts were still in your mind, you were trying to focus on the fact that it happened. After years of pining and harboring feelings for him, you finally knew what it was like to feel his lips on yours and you didn’t want to know the feeling of someone else ever again.
next part
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showtoonzfan · 1 year
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Now that the episode is out officially, here’s my rant review of Oops!
PROS:
- Fizz and Ozzie were adorable and I honestly love them. Despite the sex jokes, you can tell they love each other for who they are OUTSIDE of sex. While I did wish we would have seen more, (like how Ozzie took him in and fell in love) they’re still adorable to watch. They’re the better version of Stolitz, can the show be about them instead?
- Brandon’s voice acting holy shit, he really knows how to sound like he’s in tears or is broken. As much as I hate the character and feel no sympathy, he displayed genuine and broken emotion very well.
- Alex Brightman Alex Brightman
Okay that’s it. Moving on to the Cons. Bear with me, it’s a lot and I go back and forth a bit. 😭
CONS:
So for a quick short summary, this episode:
- Once again puts more focus on the filler plot rather than actually focusing on the relationships between the characters, so all we're left with is a 10 second clip of Fizz being burned while the rest of the episode is surrounded on sex jokes/petty bickering and Stolas and Ozzie sitting around.
- Completely erases what made Blitz and Fizz's dynamic interesting in the first place because it retcons it with a dumb miscommunication trope about how Fizz actually wanted to see Blitz and Blitz tried reaching out to him. Not only does this feel like a cheap attempt to make Blitz out to be sweet/sympathetic and NOT the one in the wrong so Fizz can suck up to him, but this also makes no sense within the narrative.
- Has Fizz forgive Blitz despite him being the last person anyone would think would forgive him. (So honestly ruins Fizz himself because it turned him into a soft boy who's forgiving compared to the asshole he was in Ozzie's) All because Viv would sell her whole soul before she even remotely considers painting characters like Blitz and Stolas out to be the one's in the wrong.
- Takes Stolas out of the hospital completely, erasing all the drama/tension Western Energy had and proves that that episode was utterly pointless.
- Turns Striker from an interesting complex villain to a Saturday morning cartoon goon.
- Proves to us that Crimson is just a flat tool and gives us more prove that the world building rules Viv set up in season 1 legit don't matter.
-Ruins Blitz/Barbie's feud now because now you're making Barbie look like the one in the wrong since the fire was an accident. God forbid a female characters emotions in this show are justified.
But if you want my more in depth rants, it’s under the cut! (There’s a lot so bear with me lol)
- As usual WAAY too many sex jokes and swearing. It gets annoying and repetitive at times and some of them distract from the main plot. There’s a long and I mean LONNG dragged out joke of Fizz talking about Ozzie’s dick, then later saying he’s hard when Striker has a gun to his head, as well as Blitz making a joke about him and Fizz making out once they hug. Again, Viv can’t be serious for 2 seconds without an unfunny shitty gag. I genuinely wonder if Hazbin is ganna be like this, where a character is in a life threatening situation or a deep dark serious scene happens only for the next scene to be sex related.
- This is one of those “shit happens because the plot demands it” and it shows. Crimson and Striker COINCIDENTLY meet up with each other, and Fizz and Blitz just so HAPPEN to be in the same exact area they are. Viv wonders why we call her shit a fanfic and this is what we mean, when she creates wild wacky plots and focuses more on THAT rather than the actual character writing. This entire episode hinges on a useless poorly last minute planned kidnapping plot that didn’t need to happen. Also way to once again make the characters idiots so the plot can happen, cause Fizz KNOWS Ozzie worries for him and that the Greed Ring is dangerous, yet purposefully puts the spotlight on him.
- Stolas did NOT need to be in this episode. The plot completely ignores the fact that he was in the hospital the last time we saw him, and he’s only here for Stolitz banter. You’d think that a character admitting they have feelings for someone would be a big deal but he just flat out says it and it’s so underwhelming and feels half assed with no weight to it. Fan comics have made more dedication to this than Viv has. We're supposed to believe him too despite the show failing to actually SHOW us this. Same for Blitz ranting about how “nice” Stolas has been to him, laughing at his jokes and liking his posts…hey Viv, can we actually SEE that on screen so it’s more believable? Or are you only determined to show them sexually flirting? 😑
- Once again Viv felt the need to shove a B plot into this episode and this one sucks because it’s just two characters sitting and doing fucking nothing. It felt like Viv had no idea what to do with Stolas and Ozzie, and I refuse to believe that Ozzie just sat there knowing Fizz was in danger. If anything he would have said “fuck the paperwork” and went to save Fizz himself. Way to show that gif of Ozzie getting mad as a sneak peak to get fans excited, only to see that Ozzie spends the rest of the episode sitting in a dark room LMAO what a let down.
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- Ozzie is weirdly chill and cool with Stolas and it’s something I don’t get. While he did say that Stolas had the real “spirit of Lust” in S1E7, it still gave you the impression that he was also more poking fun at Stolas rather than respecting him. The whole point of House of Asmodeous was that Ozzie outs him and publicly embarrassed him. Stolas literally was intimidated just by Asmodeous’s mere name, and hid his face around him. It seemed like Stolas certainly didn’t want someone like Ozzie to know about his private life especially since they’re both part of the Ars Goetia. Now here Ozzie is just cool with him and it feels like a missed opportunity for their dynamic.
- Stolas confessing his feelings about Blitz also makes…no sense narrative wise. I thought the whole point of The Circus and the ending to Western Energy was that he was realizing that Blitz didn’t like him that way and was finally waking up. I thought that’s why he was doing this whole crystal deal in the first place, so he can let Blitz go, yet the show keeps flip flopping and insisting that these two love each other and are good for each other. It’s really making you realize how this season and the previous stuff set up is becoming nonsense because the writers retcon EVERY damn episode. Also….why the hell is Stolas telling Ozzie his feelings for Blitz? Out of all people, why is it Ozzie, the person who outed Stolas and embarrassed him. Why is Stolas even respectful of Ozzie? He has no reason to, and he’s not under the impression that he’s dating Fizz either. I get that he needs the crystal but mentioning his love for Blitz makes no sense.
- Striker and Crimson teaming up to kidnap Blitz and Fizz was such an ass puller last minute decision. It feels overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time, more because it feels like Viv has no idea what to do with these two villain characters other than give them something evil to do to start the plot. Also…why…are they working together? It feels so random.
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- Striker’s character especially is all over the place. First he’s working for Stella, then he’s painted as the best assassin in hell, and now he’s…looking for more work I guess and working for Crimson? Why? Does this guy even have a motive anymore? It feels like his character is just dangling around until Viv wants to use him for another wattpad kidnap plot and it ESPECIALLY shows when Striker escapes for the THIRD fucking time. Can this character/storyline actually GO somewhere or are you just going to keep introducing him and have him run away. 🤦🏽‍♀️
— How did Crimson not know who Striker is despite him being labeled as “the most popular assassin in hell”, and how the hell does Crimson know Ozzie and know all the information about him being in a relationship with Fizz?? Oh right because we needed the plot to happen somehow. Still, even if Crimson did know that Ozzie was the "weakest" and loved Fizz, (which….what about Beezlebub?)) he still should have known he was playing with fire. I get that he's supposed to be evil and intimidating but how could he have predicted that Ozzie would actually stand down and fill out the paperwork? He could have immediately came there and killed Crimson for all he knew. It's just distracting how..not planned this shit was.
- Fuck this episode for calling Striker a supremacist. It makes no sense?? Viv is trying SO hard to villainize him despite him being the one in the right and it pisses me off. He has every right to be mad at the upper class, he’s part of the lower class that we’re said Hell takes advantage of, but god forbid we call out Rich and powerful Stolas because that would mean he’s a b-bad person and we can’t have that complex morality! This is so not a “eat the rich” story and it shows bc Vivzie is rich as hell. Striker as a character deserves so much better man. Congrats writers, you had an interesting character and motive set up for him, now he’s nothing but a silly goon that you might as well kill off already cause you clearly don’t care about him. Crimson meanwhile is just a piece of paper, a boring plot device I could give less of a shit about. I thought his motive was to go after Moxxie, now he’s just doing fuck whatever because this show desperately wants a bad guy for their filler fanfic plots.
- We get more world building issues, Ozzie and Fizz are so determined to hide their relationship for obvious reasons, but then at the end of the episode just say “fuck it, no one would dare tell anyway”. So now they’re being open about their relationship and lmao I told y’all the newspaper scene of Ozzie being called out for being a hypocrite wouldn’t go anywhere. Even if Ozzie did threaten his workers to not tell, they can’t be so sure that someone wouldn’t see or snitch, it’s kinda a retcon too cause they were pretty lovey dovey in Ozzie’s. Still, it makes the characters look dumb and it makes the rules Viv set up for Hell once again not mean anything.
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- We finally get to see Fizz’s backstory in action and it’s executed in the most underwhelming way possible. It’s literally a fucking 10 second clip of what went down, and rather than experiencing the event for ourselves, it’s in flashback mode but with Fizz’s voice talking over it. That’s it. I’ve seen fan comics/fanart that built this shit up better than Viv did, that actually took the slow time and dedication it needed, and here it feels like such an afterthought, like Viv could care less. Maybe if this actually was a character driven show like Viv claims, Stolas, Striker, and Crimson would be taken out of the picture and then that would leave us with PLENTY time to actually explore and develop Blitz/Fizz, bc most of this episode is just them pettily bickering and Stolas and Ozzie sitting around. But nah, we gatta have our fanfic kidnapping plot. Same goes for the reveal of Blitzo’s mom dying in the same fire. Glad to know that she got the same treatment Moxxie’s mom did, where we don’t even know her and yet we’re supposed to feel moved and care about her death. You nailed that one Viv. 👍
- I predicted that this episode would victimize Blitz and have the fire incident be an accident, (because Viv is a pussy writer and can’t make her characters actually do bad things like god forbid) but I never thought they’d actually have the balls to have Fizz forgive Blitz immediately in the same episode and pull the “actually turns out that horrible thing you did to me helped me in a way”- trope. Biggest flaw of the episode, fuck you Viv. I was actually going to applaud Blitz for taking accountability, but then the dialogue reminds you that an abuser wrote this, and he shifts his apology to “okay but I lost something too see so it’s not all about you” as if he’s fucking dismissing Fizz’s trauma and making it about himself. “I love flawed characters” my fucking ass. I would have smacked a bitch if I was Fizz because Blitzo loosing his mother in the fire too isn’t an excuse?? Fizz lost his fucking ARMS AND LEGS, and at the end of the day Blitzo STILL KNEW HE WAS HELPLESS IN THE FIRE BUT LEFT HIM BEHIND. He could have gotten help and came back, but didn’t. If this were a good show Fizz would have threw that apology back in Blitzo’s face and said “I don’t care if it was an accident or not, you still left me there and then proceeded to loathe me for years”. This is why Helluva will never be Bojack cause at least characters in that show who got treated horribly by him knew when to say “no, fuck you.”
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- The episode retcons again, this time they make it out to be that Blitz TRIED contacting Fizz the years they were apart but no one would let him see him. Then they say that Fizz actually WANTED to see Blitz but assumed he didn’t want to, so their entire feud was solely because of miscommunication?? Number one, show don’t fucking tell omg. And number two, that makes ZERO sense. Blitz talked badly about Fizz in Loo Loo Land, and when they finally reunited in Ozzie’s, it was clear they fucking loathed each other. You got the impression that Blitz was petty and jealous just because Fizz was more popular, and Fizz not only loathed him for the accident, but liked to rub in his face about how much of a big shot he was. They literally do that in this episode too, so the episode is literally contradicting itself. Blitz and Fizz had multiple chances to meet up with each other, you can’t just say “oh they couldn’t because no one would let them”- So which is it? Did they hate each other because of bad blood, petty drama, or that they thought the other didn’t want to see them? Pick ONE Viv and stick to it, but she never does. Their feud was interesting and now you ruined it just to have some sweet happy ending. “Adult mature show” my ass lol.
-Bottom line is Fizz shouldn’t have forgave Blitz so easily, or forgave him period. I find it funny how he says “it’s hard to just forgive you” and then he literally does lol. I feel so bad for Fizz fans, him and Blitz’s feud was honestly interesting, so to see all of this go down in a half-assed piss poor way as if this was Care Bears is….wow. The fan interpretations had more thought and care put into this storyline but what else is new lol.
- I’m really tired of these shitty annoying songs. If you’re going to get Broadway actors, please put effort into your songwriting and actually have them sing something good, not something that’s literally nonsense. This Fizz song sounds like it took less than a minute to write and Sam Haft was just thinking of anything he could think of at the top of his head. Also Why the fuck are Striker and Crimson just STANDING there while Fizz sings. They look like idiots, just SHOOT them omg. If this were a funny show, Fizz would have started his first note and Crimson just rolls his eyes and pulls his gun out.
- Fizz and Ozzie kill the lawyer but not…Crimson? Despite Fizz knowing what ring he’s in and even Ozzie knowing what he looks like? Same for Blitz, he doesn’t try to make sure Striker is dead. I get that the plot demands for these two to still be around, but there’s a way to keep them alive without making the main characters look like fucking idiots. Also Stolas just leaves without doing or contributing anything to the plot yay.
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- Fizz: “Let him have it, you could say he’s earned it”— Uhm….Nope. Blitz did NOT earn shit. He didn’t even earn Fizz’s forgiveness. Last time I checked, the moment Blitz cried and said it was an accident, Fizz forgave him, knowing he didn’t mean it. What effort did Blitz do to “earn” that as well as the crystal? Because he saved Fizz and didn’t leave him behind for the SECOND time near the end?? Cause if so than the bar is extremely low. That’s the bare minimum, just because Blitz cried and felt bad about it doesn’t mean he should be let off the hook Viv. I hate this so much, what a shitty conclusion, it feels forced just so Blitz can have the crystal and just so the writers can once again paint him as the one in the right. It’s almost insulting that they make it seem like Fizz was in the wrong for assuming Blitz starting the fire too, same for Barbie.
God what a shitty day it is to be a Fizz fan, I’m sorry. The episode did NOT do him justice. Fizzarolli deserved better than that half assed gaslighting apology for someone who lost their arms and legs man, and I’m tired of the show letting every character suck up to Blitz and Stolas for their horrible treatment just because they feel bad. Not only that but the episode (as most recent HB episodes) was a huge time waster. Everyone was really hoping for an in depth walkthrough of his character/backstory but again, when he’s not with Ozzie, the rest/most of his screen time is dedicated to him being helpless and pointlessly arguing with Blitz, plus a long dragged out nonsense song that didn’t need to happen. It felt like SO much time was wasted when we could have used the runtime we have to dive deeper and see more, like….again it would have been nice to see Fizz’s life AFTER the accident and how he became well known as well as how he fell in love with Ozzie, but his backstory is briefly scratched upon in a single scene and that’s it, all because Viv wanted this filler plot and wanted to dedicate more time to THAT rather than actual character expansion/development, something we could have got had you took out Stolas and Ozzie’s B plot and Striker and Crimson.
Viv is so on her way to murder/ruin every character that isn’t Blitz and Stolas and I won’t be here to watch further. I’ll check out the Mammon music video thing but that’s it man, this show is going off the rails, Adding Fizz to the character adoption list!
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scaralvr · 2 years
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⠀⠀ 💤 GOOD LOOKING! scaramouche x gn!reader
synopsis: kunikuzushi is confused as to why his 'heart' craves something besides you, his lover. when he comes to realize he abandoned you just like his creator and friends did to him, he returns only to be greeted by nothing. ୨ sfw, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort ୧
⠀⠀📋 this is a short nd silly little filler post while i'm working on heaps of reqs atm😵‍💫 this is based off of suki waterhouse's song good looking!!
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kunikuzushi seeks something greater in the comforting and quiet life he has with you. after three betrayals, he's finally found someone to love and care for without having to worry about them leaving. but why is it that his heartless chest yearns for something else? is it possible you're not what he needs?
he awakes in a cold sweat when he finds out. a heart. the puppet longs for a heart of his own. being able to love and be loved wasn't enough, or so he thought. one day when you leave to get groceries, kunikuzushi asks if he can join you, to your surprise. and of course, you could never turn down your lover.
you smile and allow him to go to inazuma city with you. you tell him it's good for him, that he has a chance of meeting new people and improving his communication skills. and kunikuzushi may have met people, but definitely not the ones you would've wanted him to.
tides thrash inside, baby, i'm high octane
you find your lover's presence to be something rare nowadays, as you're spending nights alone with an empty bed and a blank mind. it's not as lively without kunikuzushi, you would think. you turn to face the window and the moon is high and proud among the pitch black sky filled with stars.
the familiar sound of the door opening alarms you and you get out of bed with a hopeful smile on your lips. "kunikuzushi!" you greet the puppet with a warm welcome as you help him take off his materials. lately, he seems to be indulging in oddly different clothes rather than the ones you sewed just for him.
his gaze is so cold and distant. you notice this while waiting for him to speak up, but he never does. scaramouche brushes past you and slides the shoji doors shut to his room. your heart twinges for a moment. you were hoping to finally talk to him after what seemed like forever, but he must be busy again. surely, he doesn't need his lover as a thorn in his side.
fever in a shock wave, my core vibrates in an opium haze
scaramouche barely remembers he even had a lover to begin with. he supposes being occupied with fatui business has taken a toll on his memory as well, besides his physical and mental state. he allowed the doctor to perform strange tests on him after studying scaramouche as a specimen. he'll admit; the "harmless" experiments performed on him were rougher than he expected, but all's fine.
if he can't take on all of this pain on his own, how can he continue his path to stealing the gnosis and becoming a God? through these experiences, scaramouche has come to hate mirrors. when he looks at himself, he finds the same vulnerable boy inside him despite changing so much within time. the split ends of his hair remind him of how he ruthlessly cut it himself after his mother abandoned him.
he merely scoffs at the thought. only weaklings dwell upon the past. scaramouche is the present and future; he believes that the past is a waste of time and it will always be that way. yet through all of this time, he didn't even realize he left someone else in the past.
yet you think we're the same
scaramouche doesn't notice your disappearance until it turns into months, maybe even more than that. well, it doesn't matter, if anything, this should help. he'll deal with the pain all by himself like he always does and it'll strengthen himself as he journeys to the birth of his becoming of a God. but why does it hurt moreso than usual?
scaramouche doesn't understand why he holds too many emotions. he doesn't want to have emotions and he never needed them in the first place. he believes it's a flaw, along with the other mistakes his creator made when making him. he doesn't understand why tears cascade down his face in an uncontrollable state as he curls up on the bed, void of anyone's warmth.
starting at that point, he began to change into the pleasant yukata you sewed for him rather than his uncomfortable fatui attire. the scent of you still lingered in the cotton as he buries his nose into the material. scaramouche solemnly pulls away and looks around as if he just awoke from a bad dream.
"where are you... (y/n)?" kunikuzushi queries.
the skyline falls as i try to make sense of it all
kunikuzushi can hardly pay any attention to his fatui duties when he finally realizes your sudden disappearance from his life. you promised to stay by his side, and that you did, but where were you now? maybe you went down to the city and he simply didn't notice. although, your trips don't usually take this long.
kunikuzushi is aware he doesn't have a heart, so why, why is there an inexplicable pain in his chest where it's supposed to be? it hurts, he cries to himself at night as he recalls all of the innocent lives he took, their blood in his hands as he kept it to himself. a poor excuse for a God in the making...
he felt so useless and lost. how much time has past? for how long were you already gone? did you leave of your own accord? did someone else take you away? questions plagued his mind as he could hardly rest with such thoughts.
i thought i'd uncovered your secrets but, turns out, there's more
as time passes, he grows a temper that would make anyone turn the other way the moment they saw him. scaramouche is filled with nothing but loathe for this wretched teyvat he roams and the heavenly celestia that watches upon him. why did they take you of all people? what made you leave?
these are the type of things that he's thinking the second he sees you after lesser lord kusanali takes the gnosis away from him. he can't tell whether it's real, and in this case, it probably isn't. but he hasn't seen you in so long, he doesn't care if it's short lived. scaramouche allows himself to sink into your embrace, unknowing of the fact that he's falling to the ground after the wires of the machine detached from him.
"it hurts, (y/n). i don't want to be here anymore," he cries into the crook of your neck as you hush him, your fingers brushing through his hair. "you're the strongest i've come to known, my kunikuzushi. continue what you began for me. i'll be waiting for you."
a kiss is planted against his forehead and he awakes from his slumber.
you adored me before, oh my good looking boy.
in a frightened state, the wanderer looks left and right, searching for your whereabouts. it doesn't take him very long to find you, for you're sound asleep next to him. he slowly gulps and his hand hovers over your face in hesitation. dear teyvat and celestia above, can something go right for once? just this once, as he's suffered for so many years and he doesn't wish for it to continue.
your eyelids flutter open and he quickly retracts his hand. you look at him and your lips form a smile. the smile he came to love and missed for the longest time. then, you part your beautiful lips to speak, and your voice is as soft and gentle as ever. "what are you doing up so late, dear? you and the traveler have a busy day tomorrow, don't you?"
you ask as you gather all of your strength to sit up, still half-asleep. he struggles to release a sentence from his mouth, even a word would do good, but he just couldn't. his lips are agape as he marvels at your presence. you sleepily giggle, "oh, love. you can't keep slacking off, you know that, right? the traveler's little fairy... thing, paimon, is constantly talking about how you seem so lost in your thoughts all of the time."
"i..." a word. he finally speaks. "can i..." all of a sudden, tears begin to stream down his face and you're taken aback. "k-kunikuzushi, are you alright?" you question him in a panicking state as you're fully awake, sitting on your knees to examine his face. he takes it upon himself to hide his face in the crook of your neck, his arms slithering around your torso as he clings to you for dear life. his hands are clutching at you as if you were to disappear at any given moment, but it never happens.
the one and only time, can he feel relieved. his muscles aren't as strained anymore as he allows his frail body to make your embrace its home. you pause, your movements at a stop as your body is tense, but you rest your hand in his hair. "can i stay here? i don't feel like helping the traveler with whatever tomorrow..." he mumbles, hoping you'd say yes, at the very least. a chuckle escapes your lips.
"of course, love. we need more time alone, don't we? but for now, let's rest together." you pull away as he does and you slot your lips into his. he eagerly indulges in the kiss and his chest, though heartless, comes to be filled with a happy warmth that can cause a grin to break out onto his features. "rest with you... i need that, more than ever."
© scaralvr.
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dixons-sunshine · 3 months
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Pull Through | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: While you were injured with no way of knowing if you'd make it or not, Daryl let the group in on his feelings. He shares some of his memories with you, as well as some of his worries.
Genre: Angst.
Era: Prison, post season three, pre season four.
Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU, but can be read as a standalone. However, some call backs are made to previous parts in this.
Warnings: Mentions of injuries.
Word count: 1.2k.
A/n: I've had this idea in my mind for another part to the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU for a while now, but I just don't know how to put it into a proper fic. This is more of a filler than an actual fic, but anyways. Hope you like this!
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“Ya know, Shane wasn't the first person to tell me tha' I dun' deserve her.”
Rick looked up from his daughter to look at the archer, Daryl holding his own five month old baby girl in his arms. Rick's heart broke at the sight of his found brother's clear distress evident on his face. He was staring off at nothing in particular, thankfully lucid enough to keep Hazel in place on his lap. It was clear that your recent injury had taken its toll on Daryl, and Rick knew that if you didn't wake up from your little coma, Daryl would be a mess; he would be a bigger mess than Rick was when he lost Lori.
“My whole life, even 'fore I grew the balls to confess to her, people were tellin' me tha' I dun' deserve her, tha' I ain't good 'nough fer her, tha' she'll see it herself and leave me.” Daryl stopped for a moment, his attention temporarily being diverted to his daughter who was starting to fuss a little. He whispered sweet nothings to her in the hopes of calming her down, slightly bouncing his leg and successfully coaxing a giggle from her. “But she never left. Even when things weren't all sunshines and rainbows, she stayed. She loved me regardless of all of my flaws, and god knows I have a shit ton of 'em. She ain't ever even thought 'bout walkin' outta the door, even when she could'a, and I wouldn't have blamed her.”
By now, a few people in the group has stopped to listen to the usually quiet archer. Beth, Maggie, Glenn, Sasha, Tyreese, Hershel, Michonne, Carl and Carol stopped to listen to him. It was extremely rare to hear Daryl talk about anything outside of the usual “formal” work talk—who would go on runs, who'd work on the fence, etc.—so everyone was intrigued to hear the brooding huntsman speak his mind.
“She deserved so much better than me, and I know tha', but she didn't think so. She stuck with me through everythin'. Through most'a my childhood, through highschool, through Merle and his bullshit, everythin'.” Daryl inhaled sharply and let out a shaky exhale, trying to keep his emotions under control. “She always managed to make the most outta everythin'. When I saw a glass tha' was half empty, she saw a glass tha' was half full. Ya know, our first apartment we lived in after movin' outta her mom's trailer was so shitty.”
“Yeah?” Rick replied, just letting Daryl know that he was listening.
“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed with a broken chuckle, nodding his head and allowing Hazel to play with his fingers. “Hot water didn't work most'a the time, the oven only worked when it wanted to, the pipes made this weird screeching sound whenever it was cold, and the window to our bedroom was jammed shut. It never opened, so it was hella hot in the summer.” He sighed again and shook his head. “We lived in tha' crappy place fer years 'fore either of us had 'nough money to move into a better place. But she never complained, never threatened to leave me if I didn't find a better apartment, never once blamed me when she had to take a cold shower in the winter. Hell, she even planned on proposin' to me 'cause I was takin' too long.” For added emphasis, he lifted his left hand to show off the silver band he proudly wore every day of his life since that day in your apartment. “I beat her to it, though. She's jus' so amazin'. I love her. I can't lose her. I'll die without her.” And with that last sentence, a sob finally broke out of the archer's chest.
Within seconds, Rick had gently grabbed Hazel from Daryl's arms and passed her over to Carol—who had been on her way to offer her own support to the huntsman—before wrapping his arms around his unofficial brother. Judith had been passed over to Beth during Daryl's speech to be put down for the night, so it made it easier for the former sheriff to jump up and hug Daryl. The archer never once displayed any forms of sadness in front of the group that had to do with crying. His sadness was usually handled through anger, but this wasn't a usual situation. You—the love of his life and the mother of his baby girl—were clinging on for dear life in your weakened state. The attackers that ambushed the group of people who went on the run the previous day made you suffer the worst of the attack. Hershel did his best with the supplies he had, but there was no telling if you'd recover until you woke up, if you ever woke up. And that scared Daryl beyond belief.
Rick didn't hold Daryl long, maybe two minutes at most, until he pulled away. Daryl furiously wiped at the tears in his eyes, mad at himself for displaying such weakness in front of everybody. However, nobody made any sort of comment towards him, their own understanding and worry towards you preventing them from doing so.
“If there's one thing I know,” Rick began, standing up and allowing Daryl to have some space. “It's that you Dixons are fucking stubborn. She'll pull through, I know it.”
Daryl sniffed and nodded, wiping his eyes one more time before getting up and gently taking his daughter from Carol. “She needs to be put to bed soon. She, uh, needs to see her mama 'fore it, though, jus' in case...”
Just in case you didn't make it.
Rick nodded sympathetically, and with that, Daryl walked away from everyone's empathetic gazes. He walked up the stairs and made his way to the makeshift medical cell, expecting to see you asleep, like you had been for over twenty-four hours at that point. However, he was instead met with the sight of you sat up and crouched over to the side, heaving and clutching at your chest, awake and alert, and he didn't hesitate to call for help.
“Hershel!”
Within seconds, the old man had hobbled himself over to the cell and was by your side in an instant. He was helping you put an oxygen mask over your mouth to help you breath, and once you weren't struggling to breathe anymore, he sent a frightened looking Daryl a reassuring smile. He beckoned him closer, and with Hazel still in his arms, he walked over to you and sat down on the bed, hugging you gently and quickly before pulling back—there would be time to crush you to him and never let you go when you weren't sat with a recently shot stomach and a few broken ribs. Hershel patted his back reassuringly, and he sent a very awake, lucid you a warm smile.
“Welcome back.” He turned to Daryl and nodded. “She pulled through.”
“S'a good sign, righ'?”
For the first time in twenty four hours, Hershel gave the archer good news. “It's a damn good sign.”
You were grunting and reaching out to Daryl, and your husband instantly knew what you were requesting. With a nod from Hershel, Daryl slowly transfered Hazel into your arms, and your little one instantly recognized her mama's touch. Her mood instantly brightened, right alongside her father's.
You were okay. However, the same definitely wouldn't be said for the son of a bitch held prisoner as soon as Daryl was done with him later—he was going to pay for hurting you, and Daryl wasn't going to go easy on him, either.
©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.
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aakeysmash · 6 months
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Roommate or boss?
Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.
Previous part: part 4.
Next part: part 6.
A/N: High School Musical references (watch the movies!!!). I recommend you to read part 1 again, because a lot of references I made here are also said in the first chapter. This could look like a filler chapter, but it’s really important for future developments!
Word count: 2.2k.
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You’re relaxing on your bed on a deserved day off, brand new AC on and a cold glass of orange juice in your hand. You’re scrolling on your phone, chuckling at various memes and sending most of them to Ochaco, who will probably complain about finding 62 videos from you and having to react to each one. You’re planning on doing absolutely nothing today, just munching on snacks and sleeping. Maybe you’re going to put on that show you’ve been wanting to see. This is the life, you think.
“FUCK THIS SHIT!”
You’re startled out of your mind, again. Katsuki has been screaming at the top of his lungs since this morning, but you don’t even know the reason why. You hear his stream of curses from the wall between your rooms.
You’re very annoyed: he’s ruining your perfect day off. How dare he. You throw punches on the wall for the upteenth time, hoping he will stop or go outside to do whatever is bugging him.
“Stop fucking doing that!” He screams back at you, and you get even angrier. You decide you had enough, so you get up from your bed and march towards his room. You throw his door open without caring about his privacy.
He snaps his head towards you, scowling worser than usual.
“D’you ever heard about fucking knocking?” He barks at you. He looks disheveled: his usually spiky hair is a mess, and you assume he keeps on yanking it; you can feel his eye bags, and he probably didn’t have a good night of sleep in two weeks.
“Damn, you look bad” you mumble looking at him from head to toe. You lose a bit of your anger and almost feel bad. Almost.
“Well, I don’t care, you’re ruining my perfect day, so if you need to scream go out” you say glaring at him.
“This is my fucking house too” he snarls. “If I want to scream because I don’t want to do this shit, then I’m gonna do it. You’re free to leave and never return” he responds looking you up and down. He’s got a point.
You scoff. Sometimes he really has the audacity to speak when he shouldn’t be speaking. “What are you even doing? What’s this big thing that’s bothering you so much?”.
He grits his teeth and stays silent. The way he doesn’t want you to know the reason why he’s so angry just makes you become more curious. Oh, I’m about to get so annoying when I find out. Just so you wait, Katsuki.
“Come on, don’t be a kid. Let’s make a deal: I’ll make you a cup of hot chocolate if you tell me” you try to bribe him. In one of his nicest moments, he complimented the way you know how to “make it just right”, just to take it back immediately after noticing those words left his mouth. Also, your roommate likes to eat and drink hot things even if it’s summer. He’s a weirdo.
He looks conflicted. He really wants a sweet treat, and he knows that he’s not capable of doing it the way you do (he already tried and failed). He blames it on the fact you keep on saying that you add a secret ingredient that he doesn’t know, because there’s just no way he’s not good at doing everything he puts his mind into. He ponders about it for what feels like 3 minutes, where you both stay completely silent.
“I’ll even add whipping cream.”
You try suppressing your grin: he’s sold, you see it in the way he grits his teeth even harder. “I’m revising my thesis’ grammar.”
You instantly become smug, all your anger forgotten. Bingo. “The big buff Bakugou Katsuki is mad about some grammar? Really? I thought you were stronger than that, pussy” you tease him with a smirk on your face.
He tries throwing you one of the books he keeps on his desk, but you dodge it. Then you lean on his door and cross your arms, while he goes on and screams “GET OUT! You’re bothering me even more”.
“Stop screaming, oh my god”, you whine. “What would it take for you to return being the quiet kid at the back of the class? You’re so annoying like this” you say exhausted. You get one day off in 3 weeks, there is no way he’s ruining it. You’re finding joy in annoying him, though, it’s so fun.
“I was never the quiet kid, I ain’t no loser like you. Get the fuck out of my room” he bites back. He doesn’t need to know it, but you were indeed the quiet kid.
“Well, guess I won’t help you then” you reply, shrugging. You didn’t even ask if he wanted your help, and you didn’t come in his room to help him, but now you’re just rubbing in his face that you can go and do absolutely nothing for the rest of the day, while he boils himself away in his despair.
You start closing his door, yawning and teasing him some more. “Continue screaming while I go and watch Love Island without you”. You have to turn around to hide your expression.
You hear him curse under his breath. “Fuck, wait, I really wanna see that”, he says, sounding desperate. “Aren’t you enrolled in literature or some shit?”.
You face him with the biggest devious smile you can muster. “Yeah, why?”
The vein on his forehead is about to pop. “How good are you at correcting grammar?”, he says.
You look like you won the lottery. “Ooooh you want my help? Do you want me to revise your little thesis for you? Little ol’ me? Weren’t you saying to get the fuck out?” You say walking towards his still sitting form. He’s super rigid, like asking you to help him is requiring him all the strength of the world and the planets and the solar system together. He closes his eyes and rubs his temples. He tries the breathing exercises they taught him in highschool to manage his fury, when he really started managing his anger issues. You’re getting on his last nerves, but revising all he wrote in months is also getting on his nerves.
“Can you at least pretend to not enjoy this as much as you currently are? You’re a devil” he spits out. Well, he could’ve said something meaner, so the breathing exercises must have worked a little.
“Mean. I guess you don’t want my help then”, you respond, feigning innocence.
“Let’s make one thing clear: I’m a boss at doing shit like this. I’m just tired of doing it, ‘cause I’ve been at it for a day straight. I’m good at everything, so you’ll probably find a comma that I forgot to type, not much more than that”, he adds, glaring up at you. You’re now standing next to him, but the fact he’s still sitting has you staring at him from above. This simple act is driving him insane: if he’s not in control he gets antsy, and you seem to know it, because you’re standing really proud.
You decide on dropping the facade a little, because you enjoy revising things. And he does look exhausted.
“Sure, send me the file and I’ll look into it” you say. Now you’re going outside of his room to make his chocolate, but he thinks you’re just running away.
“Wait. What do you want in return?” He says squinting at you. There’s no way she’s doing it because she’s nice, he thinks.
You look at him, dumbfounded. “Huh?”
“Don’t fucking “huh” me. What do you want? Why are you doing this?” He responds, serious.
You raise one eyebrow and stay silent for a bit, then you tell him “Because I’m nice? Have you ever heard about kindness? Not everything is a transaction, business man” then you close his door without waiting for an answer, leaving him confused and somewhat angry.
You start doing his hot chocolate while singing to yourself, when suddenly his door is thrown open and he exits it, staring at you.
“Tell me what you want” he says coming closer to you and crossing his arms. It sounds more like a statement than a question.
You look at him and respond “Tell me what you neeeed”, singing.
“What the fuck are you saying?”
“High School Musical? That one scene in the second film where they all sing in the kitchen? Really?” You ask, and he looks confused.
“I’ve never seen those films. They look pathetic.” He responds, rolling his eyes and looking at you putting whipping cream on his hot chocolate. You look shocked, and you hang your mouth open.
“You’ve never seen High School Musical?!” You almost scream.
He winces, rubs his ears and then proceeds to say “What’s so weird about it? It’s not like it’s a cult or something”.
“Yes! Yes it is! You know what? We’re going to watch it right now. And you can’t refuse, or I won’t revise your thesis” you tell him while poking him in the chest. Soft.
He kisses his teeth, huffs and goes to sit himself on the couch.
“I knew you weren’t doing it for free, manipulator” he glares at you.
You shrug, while putting his cup in front of him and bringing him some cookies. He mumbles a thanks, relaxing.
“I was going to help you regardless, but if I can make you suffer it’s funnier” you tell him, positioning yourself next to him and stealing one of the biscuits you brought for him.
“You’re such a bitch.”
“A bitch who’s going to do your work, so shut up and watch people fall in love in highschool” you bite back. You both roll your eyes.
Neither to say, he hates the movies with a passion. He thinks that high school is portrayed poorly, that Gabriella is the real villain, that they’re all pretentious bitches, that Troy should’ve went away because none of them were truly his friends since they weren’t supporting him.
You keep on huffing while he tells you all these “that”s.
“Katsuki, it’s not like it’s reality. It’s a musical. Just focus on the songs and the love, damn” you whine while throwing a punch at his bicep. He doesn’t budge and your hand hurts.
“That’s not my definition of love” he simply states.
“Yeah? And what’s your definition of love?” You ask him, curious.
He raises one of his eyebrows. “Why would I share something like that with you?”.
“Because I’m doing your work. And we’re friends. Sort of. And you like my chocolate” you respond, while blushing a little. You know you tend to be a little too curious and nosey, but it’s just because you pay a lot of attention to details. Details are everything to you. You’re quick to backtrack seeing his hostile behaviour towards this topic, and you start saying that it’s not a big deal and you should’ve minded your business, when he interrupts you.
“And what is your definition of love?”
He looks relaxed, like asking this isn’t that bothersome. Like he wants you to know you too. Like he cares, in some way.
“Love is a lot of things for me” you resort to say. Just how much can you be specific without scaring him away?
“Yeah, you’re waiting for me to talk about it first. I get it, dumbass. I’m not very good with words on this aspect though, so I’m sorry, but your curiosity won’t be quelled” he responds, rolling his eyes. From the start of this conversation he hasn’t stopped breathing normally, almost as if this is a regular conversation for him. He hasn’t stopped looking at you, too, but you’re trying to ignore that.
“Then let’s make a deal. Saturday we’re picking a thing that we think helps us explain what we think about love” you burst out. He’s about to protest, but you’re not finished.
“Love as in general love! Love can be outside of romantic relationships too, so let’s settle on love between friends! I’d never go out with you like that” you add. You jump out of the couch. You feel like you might catch on fire if you stay near him one more second. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you like you’re something he wants to dissect.
“Okay” he simply responds. You’re dumbfounded.
“Really? You’re okay with this? I thought you were going to say no” You say.
“Yeah, but let’s say that we can both decide on either going out or staying in. This is not a date, you said it yourself, so I don’t see a problem with it. It will just be like one of our movie nights, it’s not like we never spend time together, dumbass” he says, getting up and stretching his hand towards you.
“So? Are you in? Or are you scared of doing something much less meaningful than me?” He tells you, smirking.
You glare at him and compose yourself. Then, you stretch his hand.
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
Taglist:
@perfectsukii @sleepykittycx @what-the-jams @bakunianadecorazon @vensunzy @eyesforbkg @bffrrufr @imas1mpp @cold-deep-water @peonies-and-teacakes @berryvioo
I couldn’t tag the ones in pink :(
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vhstown · 1 year
Text
okay okay bit random but as a british person (yes im admitting to this) who lives around people who speak like hobie brown
PLEASE STOP WRITING HOBIE'S ACCENT LIKE HE'S HARRY STYLES 😭😭😭😭
(pls read below the cut)
you do not need to add an apostrophe every 2 sounds and make his speech unreadable we know he has an accent....
use it in moderation . a few sounds omitted are fine but please. you do not need to be doing 4D chess trying to portray every little quirk of his speech
a lot of the times if you over-do the accent it doesn't even sound right when you read it out? (to me it reads like an american or northern accent usually)
trust me we know how he sounds
OKAY OKAY bit of cultural trivia if you want to use slang you're probably gonna be looking at jamaican patois slang (EDIT: MLE or multi-cultural london english is the more appropriate term for his dialect! pls check the reblogs for a better explanation of it by somebody else)
in ATSV the only thing i can remember him saying is "mandem" and he tends to use other phrases like "man" and "my guy" to refer to others he's close with
not every piece of jamaican patois slang is commonly used in MLE
MLE is predominantly found in areas like south london or camden (where hobie is from)
hobie also seems to dial down his accent when speaking to people who aren't from his universe (my reasoning anyway)
his accent is actually very subtle compared to what i've seen irl
hobie is very witty and tends to speaks fast with a lot of filler words like "yeah?" and "alright?" and you wanna focus on things like word order and structure (for example the word "I" tends to be missing a lot so "i went to the cinema" would just be "went to the cinema" etc etc)
im not the best at writing hobie either and i wish he got more screentime but focus on capturing his personality rather than his accent pls
he's a teenager from a deprived area NOT A WHITE BRITISH HEARTHROB PLEASE STOP WRI'IN 'IM LI' 'ARRY BLOODY STOILES
sincerely a brit who really loves hobie but not so much the attempts at his accent
will reblog or edit with any other thoughts i have about this id appreciate any other british people's input too
PLEASE check out the reblogs on this !!!!
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madschiavelique · 1 year
Note
Hi! This is my first request, sorry if it isn’t that coherent. Is it cool if I send a hurt/comfort drabble request with gn reader x Miguel?
Maybe something where an enemy takes advantage of Miguel’s lack of spider sense and is severely injured to the point where he can’t keep up his tough exterior anymore. He’d probably dread how vulnerable the situation made him and would want the reader beside him for the next mission, as some kinda filler spider sense after he recovers (or just has them there for comfort but doesn’t wanna admit it LOL)
hiya anon !! this was coherent don't worry hehehe
summary : miguel gets severely injured on a mission and wants you by his sides for all the upcoming ones
content warnings : blood, cuts, miguel almost dying (he doesn't dw), flangst (?), this turns sweet, no use of Y/N, gender neutral!reader word count : 2,2k
tag list : @fandom-ash
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Miguel found himself alone on the field. This wasn't usually a problem, as the number of individual missions he'd carried out before forming his entire Spider Society was vast. It hadn't always been easy, of course, but he'd always managed to pull himself up, like a true Spider-Man would.
The rain clattered against the pixels of his suit, thunder rumbling between the dark clouds where skyscrapers sank like daggers into a black cotton belly.
He was out of breath, the anomaly he was facing was the typical weak point of his mutation: it was invisible, and extremely fast, which didn't help as Miguel's Spidersenses were profoundly insignificant, or even to put it simply: non-existent.
If he could get a visual on his target, everything would be perfectly fine. He could carry out his mission like the usual without a care. But invisible? That was undoubtedly his Achilles' heel in anomalies.
His hand was pressed against one of his bleeding sides as he stood breathless on a rooftop. The anomaly kept using its invisibility and speed to make unpredictable sprints to cut him from side to side.
He muttered an insult under his breath, his shoulders, arms and legs riddled with cuts of varying depths that were causing severe pain all over his body.
The anomaly was taunting him, laughing at one corner and then the next second calling out from another. The situation was becoming far too complex, and he could feel that the loss of blood from his body was starting to have an impact, weakening him enormously in this fight. It was more than a weakness actually, it was a real danger.
His eyes were looking in all directions, turning in on himself. Silence and the inability to know where his enemy was had never frightened him so much. He knew very well that the invisible things were just as dangerous as the visible ones, if not more so.
You don't always see love when it's coming, and you sometimes fail to recognise death when it arrives.
Call for help? Yes, perhaps that would be best, no matter how proud he was and how independent he wanted to be. Trying to regain a less shaky breath, he swallowed as he brought his lips to his watch:
"Lyla call the-" but he was cut off instantly by the anomaly that came at him in a flash, slicing into the back of his leg with such power that he fell to his knees with a grunt. The puddle into which he had fallen became darker, the red of his blood mingling with it under the light of one of the neon advertisements on an adjacent building.
He groaned in frustration, bringing the watch up to his mouth again.
"Lyla-" he breathed a little louder, but the anomaly cracked the silence with a high-pitched laugh as he cut into his back with a straight, deep line of his own.
Miguel arched his back, a growl mingling with a cry of desperation and terrible frustration as he lay on the ground.
Was it the rain, or was his vision becoming blurry ?
The anomaly materialised before his tired eyes, kneeling beside him, tilting its head to one side.
"All so," he laughed horribly, "big and strong and muscular." the anomaly grabbed his arm evilly, squeezing his hand over a cut that was burning hellishly, and Miguel let out screams through his teeth.
"But I'll tell you something, big buy," the anomaly said simply, moving a little closer to Miguel, who was beginning to find it harder and harder to stay awake. "In the end, we're all made of flesh that can be cut, and bones that can be broken."
He held up his knife, which the raindrops were cleaning of Miguel's blood, still glued to the blade. He then placed it against Miguel's cheek, his vision completely blurred.
"Lyla," he whispered, barely audible, using what little strength he had left to cry out for help.
He saw the knife rise, thinking to himself, this is it, it's over, he thought.
He murmured something, just something ? No, it was more important than that. He murmured your name.
He wanted, no, needed to see you now. Hear your voice, see you once more before… he just needed you by his side.
He felt so lonely.
He could’ve chosen anyone to be by his sides, heck someone was literally by his side at the moment and it was an anomaly, so he wasn’t exactly alone. But still, still, he wanted you.
The knife elevated, ready to strike him down, the sound of the anomaly’s laughter echoing in his mind in a numb way. And that’s when he saw a bright orange in the reflection of the bloody puddle, and lost consciousness.
He awoke in the infirmary, his eyes gradually adjusting to the whitish light. The aseptic air caught his nostrils, his lips were dry and a slight headache tugged at his skull.
He was lying on a stretcher in a position somewhere between sitting up and lying down. As he tried to straighten up, he was immediately stopped by an intense pain, and immediately tensed up.
"Hey hey hey, easy, easy."
He knew that voice, very, very well indeed. He opened his eyes again, slowly.
You were there, at his bedside, just above him to make sure he didn't try to get up again. He inhaled slowly, breathing hurt a little, and he wrinkled his nose in pain.
"How long was I out?" he asked, his first thought always remaining on the subject of organisation.
"Three days," you replied, standing next to him, arms folded.
"Three d-!" but the rise in his tone made his whole chest ache.
"Hey shh shh shh," you soothed, coming to rest your hand on his cheek to provide a point of anchorage for him in the middle of all of this pain.
"Three days," he breathes against your touch as he squirmed around trying to find a comfortable position without feeling like his whole body was on fire. "It's too much wasted time, I have to go back-"
"You're not going back anywhere for a little while, Miguel." you cut, voice calm.
"But I have to-" his breath came a little sharper.
"Miguel, you're not going to do anything at all except rest." you reiterated.
"Listen to me-"
"No, you listen to me," you interjected this time in a much less calm and more strict tone, which surprised him enough to stop him from continuing to fidget and breathe almost frantically. "You had a near-death experience, Miguel," your words were categorical. "And I refuse to allow you to not recover from that properly just so you can kill yourself at work instead, because... fuck, I was so scared." your voice had trailed off on the last word, broken.
Your eyes avoided his, looking up at the ceiling, biting your lip as your gaze fell back on the countless cuts he had strewn across his body. Your hand, previously on his cheek, came to rest beside him on the stretcher.
And you could feel his eyes on you, expecting your next words.
"When Lyla appeared to us... I had never seen her so serious and anxious at the same time. I have always seen her as playful and," a sigh, "sassy. But then, what she said made my heart drop," you admitted, looking him in the eye, trying to articulate.
A tear rolled down your cheek, and you immediately brushed it away, trying to pull yourself together.
"When we arrived, you were in an indescribable state, you were motionless... gosh Miguel I've never wished so much to see someone make just one movement," you breathed in, wiping away the other hot tears that wanted to flow further down your cheeks. "You can't imagine the relief I felt when they stabilised your state."
He looked at you, lips parted as he listened intently. And he thought of how he had wished you in death to bring him life and how you had wished him in life to stay away from death.
"I stayed, you know? By your side. Days, nights, whenever I could," you smiled, a small breath living your lips as you sniffed.
His heart was overflowing with emotions, all the sensations and thoughts that had taken hold of him during his confrontation with the anomaly coming back vividly to his mind, and yet he felt it all squeezed into his chest.
"I..." his voice grew small, and he swallowed to try and make his throat more cooperative to make the lump that was forming in it disappear.
"I thought... I'd never get to see you again," he admitted, inhaling softly.
His hand came to rest on yours, his fingers gently caressing your skin as you took it in yours.
"I..." his eyes were veiled by a curtain of tears that stung his nose, and he bit the inside of his cheek, looking down at your hands interlaced.
He thought back to the rain that kissed him goodbye, to the thunder that rumbled through the dark clouds as if to lecture him, to the feel of the sharp blade on his skin and the life that was gradually leaving him. But above all he remembered his vulnerability, and the possibility that this moment might be his last.
"It was so cold... I just," a tear finally rolled down his cheek, "I just wanted you to be here," his eyes returned to yours, "with me."
You could see it in his eyes, the fear, the dread that something like this could happen again. You bit your lip, your chin trembling as you gripped his hand a little tighter in yours.
"I need you by my side," he declared.
Your free hand gently wiped the tears from his cheeks, his lids closing.
"I will be by your side," you whispered, "I will protect you."
He breathed in gently, his eyes meeting yours again.
"From now on, everywhere I'll go, you'll go with me," he concluded, and you squeezed his hand in yours again.
"I'll go with you," you agreed, wiping the last tear from your cheek, the salts of your two cries combining on the back of your hand like an oath.
Miguel had recovered well. At first he'd inevitably flinched at the fact that he'd let everything be controlled by someone other than himself, but in the end he'd let it slide.
You came to visit him every day, not only to make your report but also simply to spend time with him. You always brought him empanadas from the cafeteria, knowing how much he loved them. It has to be said that if there was one thing you could often bribe Miguel on, it was empanadas. That and maybe stroking his hair...
When he finally came out of the infirmary, a tiny celebration was held. He didn't like the idea at all, but you knew deep down that the intention behind it warmed his heart.
Life went back to what it used to be, with of course a slight change that surprised everyone.
As agreed, wherever he went, you went. Every spiderperson in the Society had obviously noticed the sudden change. From one day to the next, Miguel couldn't go anywhere without you by his side.
You went on walks with him in the park, you would always eat with him at the cafeteria, you were in his office whenever he was, and it felt to most spiders now that you two would eternally be inseparable.
The time finally came for Miguel to go on a mission, where you would work with him to catch the anomaly but above all to lend him your Spidersenses, which were working to the highest perfection.
The portal formed in front of you, Miguel tensing slightly. You put your hand on one of his shoulders and he turned to you.
"It's okay, I'm here" you remarked.
This simple fact lifted a weight from his shoulders as if by magic. He smiled at you before you put your mask on, his own mask pixelating on his face, and you stepped through the portal.
You reached a rooftop, the gate closing behind you. Silence fell and Miguel tensed. He had no idea where the danger might be coming from.
"Hey, look at me," you said simply.
He turned to you, still as uptight as ever.
"Just breath okay?"
He breathed in gently, relaxing his shoulders as he listened, a little more reassured by your simple presence.
You waited patiently, not moving an inch. And what if you couldn't feel certain sensations either?
But he had nothing to worry about, because you immediately took him by the arm and drew him against the wall of the roof exit, pressing your body against his as next to you a kind of big multicoloured puddle burst violently onto the ground right where you previously were.
He was breathing heavily, his back pressed against the wall, while you were as calm as when you had arrived. His head turned towards yours, your two masked faces immensely close.
"I meant it when I said I would protect you."
He chuckled.
Wherever you go, I'll go with you.
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esggs · 2 months
Text
Obeisance to the Arrow - Noritoshi Kamo
#3 - Menarche 
[you, bride of the Kamo Clan, are now ripe for marriage. What have you planned? And why are you thinking of Noritoshi in a wedding kimono?]
tw: arranged marriage, forced marriage, child marriage, menstruation mention, filler chapter a bit, Zenin Clan being shitty, bride price mention, fluff, angst but not really 
#2 - The Ring Ceremony #4 - Cursed Bride
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January, 2018
5 Years After The Ring Ceremony 
Things are moving again. This time, I act first.
You’ve lived separately from Noritoshi, your groom-to-be, all these 5 years. You had your own chamber and chamber-maids in the women’s area of the Kamo estate. Post the engagement ceremony, you were sent off to the Kamo household, and apparently forgotten. You haven’t seen the Zenin family since, which did hurt you at first, but then you started channelling Noritoshi’s economical use of his emotions. It’s been working great. You don't feel much about anything now. 
Living as a married woman has been boring, if anything. You weren’t permitted to use your cursed technique in the household, but you also hadn’t been made to do any chores. Days would pass with you doing nothing but staring at the ceiling. Weeks spent doing nothing but picking flowers and fruits from the gardens. Months where all you did was read books on ancient jujutsu dynasties. No one seemed to care much, honestly. As long as you smiled prettily and poured tea for guests, nothing happened. No one had any expectations from you. Being awake, those days, is no different from being asleep. 
On the bright side, though, the Kamo women adored you. Even Noritoshi’s step-mother Miyumi (who despised Noritoshi), the actual wife of his father, was sweet to you. It was pity, you found out eventually. Even within the most conservative jujutsu families, it wasn’t common to be engaged at the age of 8. You and Noritoshi were a special case, as they told you. 
Noritoshi, despite being a bastard borne by his father’s mistress, had inherited the priceless technique, a very tricky balance of pros and cons. His father wanted him to be the next clan head, and he saw a good way to tip the scales: you. To set Noritoshi up as a stable man with an equally powerful wife, lure in the promise of strong children from both of you– Bam! Clan Head position secured. As for the Zenins, Distillation meant you could fetch a very pretty bride price, and a direct control over the next Kamo clan head. Besides, it would be better to marry you two off as children, when you wouldn’t have the option of refusing.
The Zenin Clan. Lowlife worms tangling in a can, all of them. All of them.
—--
2013
The Ring Ceremony
Noritoshi looked very pretty, you thought, his parted bangs wrapped in white, while the rest of his usually free hair was in a top knot. What did he wear….? You can’t really recall all that. Maybe looking at pictures would help. What did Maki and Mai wear? They were there, for sure, but you really can’t remember more than that. It’s been so long since.
At some point during the ceremony, after the main rituals were over, Noritoshi had noticed that you could not keep your eyes dry anymore, and excused the two of you to retire back to the inner chambers. You remember that there was some drunk whistling at that. You walked back silently, him leading you through the corridors, till he found a suitable veranda away from the crowds. 
He had looked at you with so much pity in his eyes. “y/n-san” he had said, “I know we haven’t been friends for long, but I’d like to apologise if I made you uncomfortable in any way.” And even back in your childhood you knew he meant it. “Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you.”
“Shujin” - you tried the taste of the word, just as you had been taught. Master, husband, it condensed both into one, and what was the difference, really? You belonged to him now. Bought for 60 million yen. “Or do you prefer Noritoshi-san?” But after all, he too was a boy of just twelve.
“The latter, y/n–san, if that would be okay with you.” 
“I don’t want this, Noritoshi-san. I want to go home.” You couldn’t stop crying. “I’m hungry too. I’m sorry, Noritoshi-san, but I don’t want any marriage or engagement. I want to go back to nii-chan.” You had kept wiping your tears with the sleeves of your bridal kimono. Not like you expected him to be able to do anything.
“Would you like some ice-cream?” Noritoshi was clearly trying his best. “We have different flavours, chocolate chip?” His new bride-to-be kept sobbing. “Ah, strawberry, then? Or matcha?” 
“I’m so sorry, really–” 
“No, I’m sorry–”
“Ah, young love!” Gojo Satoru had interrupted then, and brought along the best moment of that horrid day.
You barely saw Noritoshi after that day. He was busy doing stuff and being places, you suppose. When he went off to Jujutsu Tech two years ago, it was like bidding farewell to a very distant friend that you don’t know anything about.  
Yet he insisted on having a private moment with you, just before he left, to formally say his goodbyes. He was allowed to visit your chambers, just once, unchaperoned. It was so uncomfortable, you grin at the memory, what does a 15 year old have in common with a 10 year old? He tried to talk about the news (you didn’t watch it) and then about TV cartoons (you weren’t that young). He said he’d visit you now and then. You said “okay”. It was thoroughly weird. You didn’t really care much about him. He felt obligated to care about you. At the end, you two just high-fived, and just before he left he kissed the top of your head and told you to keep studying. It was an odd thing to say, really, considering you haven’t been to school past the age of nine. Anyway, he went off, and you went back to playing with his younger cousins.
But you will meet each other soon. Better yet, you will meet Gojo Satoru soon. Because this time, I’m on top of things. Since the maid gasped at the bloodstains on your bedsheets a week ago, you have been informed about your wedding celebration, to take place as soon as possible. There is a flurry of activity in the household, lawyers bringing up inheritances and assets, planners talking about venues, Zenin family members coming and going, mostly without even meeting you. That’s fine by you. The main thing now is Gojo Satoru. You’ve been studying, like Noritoshi told you. This time, you’ve prepared. 
The wedding cards have been printed: You and Noritoshi will be getting married by next month.
#4 - Cursed Bride
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eternalmarvel · 10 months
Text
MK1 BI-HAN X READER ~ belong ~
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an: hello everyone ❄️ decided to write some more small fluff / filler content ! i swear there's not enough bi-han love man LETS KEEP THOSE FANFICS AND HEADCANONS ROLLING 😈also i came up with this idea while i was h!gh as hell so please excuse me if the idea itself seems a bit weird this is why i need requests from people because i am TOO lazy to think of any good ideas on my own
if u guys want something different to spice things up like headcanons or smthn just ask :-) honestly i don't know how good i'd be at writing smut so it's not of priority right now but if people request it i can certainly try
anyways i hope u guys enjoy some fluffiness to kick off the winter szn !!
note; bi-han and reader are married in this story + a little bit of toxicness but it's not from bi-han
++ this isn't proofread so sorry for any mistakes
~~
you had been married to bi-han for about a year now. your duties separate from the lin kuei often required you to travel far and abroad where you couldn't see your husband for weeks at the time. you didn't complain too much at first, but it got a bit frustrating after some time -- nothing that you couldn't overcome though. on the other hand, bi-han was IRRITABLE. it felt like the whole stronghold was walking on eggshells around its grandmaster, careful not to say or do the one thing that would set him off. he was sexually frustrated and grumpy on incomprehensible levels. everyone around the clan noticed how much angrier he had become. he'd bark orders at an unprecedented rate and mean mugged everyone who came across his path. even having the kitchen staff make all his favourite meals from when he was younger did nothing to wipe the horrible scowl painted on his face. when you were at the lin kuei stronghold, you and bi-han collectively sat down with the rest of the ninjas for dinners -- something that bi-han often avoided before meeting you. however, with a bit of nudging from you, he started to participate in group dinners more, even enjoying them (though he would never admit to this). there would still be a grimace on his face, but having you beside him made everything more palatable anyway. when asked why he seemed a little more irritable than usual, he stormed off and dismissed the question.
"i am the grandmaster, i will NOT answer to you."
smoke had realized that soon enough the only way to get him over his mood fluctuations and have some semblance of peace would be to get you back at the dojo. your phone's ringtone blared alarmingly, and you picked up the call in annoyance.
"tomas? what are you calling me about? can it wait? i'm really busy right now."
smoke lets out a sigh of relief now that he's gotten ahold of you.
"(name)! we really need you back at the lin kuei. bi-han's really ...cranky without you there," he whispers the last part, almost like he's scared bi-han will snatch him up out of nowhere. you pay no heed to tomas' concerning remarks, continuing to write down on the ledger on your desk.
"i'm sure my husband is just a little overwhelmed with his duties right now, this has nothing to do with me. give him some slack. he's fine."
smoke spoke with more urgency now.
"(name), he really is frustrated because of you. today, frost said '(name)’s hair' but he thought she meant '(name)’s here' and i swear i thought i saw his eyes gloss over like a dog seeing its owner for the first time in forever. ever since he found out frost was talking about your hair and not about you actually being here, he's been giving frost dirty looks. i think she's starting to get pissed off now that i think about it..."
you put down your pen and look up at the curtains of the hotel room in front of you, sighing. it was more serious than you previously expected. your face twisted in cruel humour, and you knew it'd be funny to use this opportunity to prank your husband and see what his reaction is.
"you know what tomas. i'm sure i can get out of these meetings and make it back to the stronghold by tomorrow dawn. i'll come back."
tomas sighs, finally unanxious.
"thank you, (name)! i knew you'd pu-"
"but i wanna play a prank on him. and you're gonna help me observe and set the environment."
tomas sighs once again, but out of exasperation.
"i don't wanna participate if it's too extreme. i've already caught the brunt of bi-han's verbal torment this week." you chuckle at his expense. "don't worry tomas, i'll make sure he doesn't hurl an ice pick at you. this prank is harmless, i promise. it's just for me to see his reaction." "fine. what are you planning on doing?" "sit tight and don't stress. i'll tell you when i'm on my way back."
you had informed tomas of the most perfect plan. you'd get back to your husband -- not long enough that he'd go back to his normal, serene state when he was with you but enough that he'd manage to calm his heartrate a bit. you were planning on inviting the daughter of a family friend of bi-han's family when he was younger. she had eyes for him all these years, still pointing to hints that she would pursue him despite the fact that he was now married to you. you would invite her over and have her bug bi-han (dare you say, flirt) and follow him all around the stronghold. you wanted to see if that so-called sexual frustration that tomas was referring to earlier really mattered in the case of every woman or if it was exclusive to only you. was it toxic? perhaps. could it be considered manipulative to use his father's family friend's daughter who had probably loved him for the last 10 years to get him closer to you? most likely. would you love every second of it nonetheless? absolutely.
you didn't inform bi-han of your arrival. as far as he knew, you were still going to be a few weeks out from coming back. you walked in through a secret back entrance bi-han had only told you about just in case the stronghold was ever attacked and he needed to get you out safely. you walked through the corridors and heard your husband's hoarse voice coming from the large drawing room across from you. you walked in quietly and sneakily, but obviously not subtly enough considering bi-han had his eyes immediately on you.
"(name)....," he almost whispered, his eyes widening.
you give everyone in the room a wave, including the senior ninjas, which they kindly return with a nod of their own.
"clear the room," bi-han asserts hastily. his tone isn't as harsh as it was before. the ninjas comply almost immediately when they've noticed his demeanor soften up a bit, realizing that you've worked your magic. as soon as the last ninja is out the door, bi-han is by your side in a half of an instant, taking your face into his broad hands.
"hey," you say softly. you were tired from your trip, but being in his presence and ironically his warmth doubled the exhaustion and fatigue your body had attempted to so valiantly fight off.
"you didn't inform me of your early arrival."
you smile into his palm, your head tilting a bit as you rest your own palm on his hand.
"wanted to surprise you, my love."
he looks at you intensely for a few seconds before snapping back to reality.
"i will excuse myself from my duties today. perhaps i can get kuai liang to take over for me."
"why, bi-han? we can catch up late. i don't want you neglecting your duties because of me."
a small scoff escapes his lips.
"it's been much of the other way around. we have not seen each other in weeks. the lin kuei can do without its grandmaster for a few hours."
you look at him mischievously for a brief second before you hear the faint sounds of footsteps outside the drawing room. your plan was coming to fruition before your eyes. rina had come along just on time.
"actually, bi-han, i think we might have a change of plans. rina is coming over today!"
bi-han shifted his gaze from you to rina, who was standing out in the hallway. it was safe to say he was unamused.
"rina. i wasn't aware you were going to be here. it seems as though i've been misinformed on MANY fronts," he says, side-eyeing you. you pay him no mind, bringing rina closer.
"i have to deal with a bit more business-"
bi-han looked at you in disbelief. who the hell did you think you were, the president? a grandmaster yourself?
"--BUT i promise it won't take too long. rina wanted to catch up with you too, so i thought why not kill two birds with one stone?," you say, trying to resist the impending smirk on your face. bi-han was clearly displeased but you gave his arm a squeeze and whispered, "just a few hours," and he knew he'd have your company again in no time. he sighed quietly, before slightly nodding again.
"if i must."
you disappeared to find smoke and left bi-han with rina to do god knows what. you found tomas sparring with some of the newer initiates out in the courtyard and ran up to him, dragging him away from kombat.
"h-hey!," smoke exclaimed.
"c'mon! i finally got bi-han to agree to meeting with rina. now we gotta go hide around the place and see how he reacts with her around."
"this is ... not nice.." smoke remarks uneasily.
you roll your eyes. yeah it isn't nice, but it's funny and it's not like you actually meant any harm by this prank. you and tomas make your way to the blindspots around the lin kuei and spot bi-han walking as rina edges closer to him. you guys get in close enough to try and make sense of their conversation.
bi-han walks into his room and changes into a new hanfu, the same shade of dark blue he often wears. the collar part of the attire is folded, and rina brings her hand closer to fix it but just as she’s about to mend it, bi-han grabs her hand.
“what do you think you’re doing,” he lowly seethes, his eyebrows furrowing in anger.
rina shakes him off, annoyed. “i was just trying to help you, calm down!”
“unless i ask for your assistance, it is not required.” he says stoically before making his way down the corridor again. you and tomas both exchange a strange look. you didn’t want rina dead by the end of this prank. silence is shared between bi-han and rina for the next minute before the latter pipes up again.
"you haven't seen your wife in a while, huh?" rina asks coyly. bi-han turns to look at her for a second before turning back around and keeping that stern look on his face.
"no. her business keeps her away from m-the stronghold quite often,” bi-han remarks quietly.
“you know most wives stick with their husbands and don’t just leave them on their own for weeks on end. perhaps there may be something that you aren’t aware of…,” rina whispers before her statement trails off.
bi-han stops in his tracks and turns around yo face her.
“do not think to insinuate such horrible things about my wife again so shamelessly. you forget your place when you spew these things -- do not forget, SHE invited you here as a token of her hospitality. i did not."
rina chuckles. at first glance, it would seem that she does this sarcastically at first, but it seems like those words really stung rina.
"i'm leaving."
"you know your way out."
tomas sucks a deep breath in while you look down in defeat.
"ooh, boy. alright, i think you were right." "you needed a prank to prove that?!"
you wave tomas away.
"i will make sure there are no further casualties," you say to tomas, as you give him a small hit on his arm and make your way to your marital bedroom. on your way there, you see rina coming your way. you have to pretend like you didn't just witness your husband eat up this poor woman. you smile and put your hands together, bowing to her.
"hey rina! how's it going? i wa-" she puts her palm towards your face and continues walking away.
"i don't wanna hear from you." you watch her as she leaves, staring off into the distance momentarily and sighing. thank god she was an asshole or else it'd be really hard not to sympathize with her.
you walk into your bedroom and see bi-han on the bed. it seems he's getting ready for a bath -- he has a robe-like hanfu loosely draped around his body with his chest visible and and legs exposed. his hair is down and he is reaching for his back like it's aching.
"done with all my duties." you say innocently, your arms behind your back.
bi-han only looks at you momentarily and not even fully before going back to closing his eyes and mending his backache. you walk up to him carefully before sitting down beside him, using your hand to gently knead his back. he lets out a small groan of relief at your gesture.
"you've probably missed my massages all week," you say coyly.
"they were not the thing i missed."
you feel a blush creeping up on your cheek. being away from you for so long made him starved, like a dog meekly asking his owner for more rations. you felt horrible for being away for so long.
"i won't leave again for a while. i promise. we have lost-time to make up for," you say quietly. you prod at his hand and he envelops your hand in his, grazing the outside with his thumb.
"i'd rather not have lies spoken to me for the sake of momentary comfort."
you get up and gently move his right leg further to the right so you can sit on his thigh.
"now you know i can give you more than momentary comfort," you say smirking (but still VERY nervous).
in the blink of an eye, bi-han flips your body over and pins you to the bed, planting a long and voracious kiss at your lips. you bite at his lower lip and he responds by wrestling your tongue with his own. after what seems like an eternity of your mouths fighting for dominance with each other, you break the kiss as a string of saliva follows your mouths.
"you know, i saw everything that unfolded with rina. i think it really is safe to say we belong to one another."
bi-han looks at you with a hint of amusement. "i should have known you didn't have pure intentions with inviting her over." he slips his hand down your frame, erecting shivers from you. he plants small kisses trailing down your midsize.
"perhaps the rest of the lin kuei should know the grandmaster's wife isn't really as much of an angel as she lets everyone think she is."
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buttercupshands · 3 months
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New MHUI LoV event stuff
first of all - if you follow the news on the new characters even a little - a new UR Shigaraki Tomura came out today (16th of June) he came with a LoV event as they usually do and this one is basically a filler for the time before Star and Stripe arc happened but after Tomura got his mix-match outfit of his own and AFO's choices
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and while it is Tomura-centric event it's heavy on stuff with Spinner. He's basically like a second main character of this short thing
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The filler answers question on what was LoV doing while Izuku left UA and it uses manga side material as help, because it was stated that Skeptic helped LoV to get new clothes for the Final arc as well as weapons.
A story of event is basically "someone tries to rob us we neew to stop them" while Spinner is questioning if they are really dealing with Tomura anymore, with some interesting localization choises Spinner noticed the Ore vs. Boku thing while Tomura was talking
As it is a turn for a short event we get like 3 parts with Tomura easily defeating the guys who tried to rob that one place
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And it's nothing really if you don't count the way Tomura speaks which is really creepy to hear his gaming words while he's also clearly doesn't understand anything anymore what made Tomura Tomura
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It's basically what if those chapters before Star and Stripe made Tomura lose it were a story on their own with Tomura still unsure on who he is, but LoV is literally there and they talk about it more than we ever saw them in the manga for... reasons that manga doesn't have filler. At all.
At least not with LoV involved
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At the end of it while Spinner is still concerned it all ends with AFOmura or whatever this guy should be called at that point of the story stops questioning it and just agrees with Spinner's question
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If you're a manga reader it's worse than just a talk
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It also has an interesting point, but sadly as it's a pre-Star and Stripe arc Tomura anything he says doesn't really matter as much
Everything else are basically details, I recommend this event tho, it's not that hard to get all of the story, it's worth having in the MHUI archives
As for other things, more or less harmless - there's an event SR Memory with Toga and Machia and a cards set, the same one Tomura had mostly in the anime
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Recruit is standart with a UR Memory for the new character and a SR Memory which is helpful in the event
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As for the less neutral stuff I got into the event as soon as I noticed it began and the first thing was to go into the recruit for the new Tomura
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got him right away so it was fun and with this my Tomura collection is once again is one off, his first UR is still absent on my account, but 5 characters make a team
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Didn't have a motivation to play the event with SR Tomura as my game had an error with dialogue, but I got him at least
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Tried playing with him while clearing the event, he has a new battle star animation, battle end animation and of course his own ult animation
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He's fun to play with, and that actually got me back into MHA as I was slowly losing my will to still do anything connected to it aside from this game
A small thing that I found interesting was that his recruit voiceline is Tomura's speech from back in 222
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Interesting choice as none of old ones had something connected to this chapter
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Other than that his Base talks are the same and his reactions in Trust menu are the same too
As usual MHUI LoV events are the best in delivering events with stories that belong in canon and it's easy to imagine them there
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