#UP until the point he gets a romance and then I will crash and burn the character | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sluttywoozi · 8 months ago

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Somewhere In The Middle | ljh x f!reader

Somewhere in the middle, I think I lied a little I said if we took it there I wasn't gonna change, But that went out the window

You and Jihoon started as roommates and naturally became best friends. After a breakup and a little too much wine, you become best friends who kiss, but there's no danger there... right?

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~9.7k | Pairing: ljh x f!reader

Genre: romance, smut, best friends/idiots to fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort

Warnings: mention of a breakup, alcohol use, besties to besties with benies to lovers, jealous/possessive jihoon, depiction of a nightmare (lots of water involved but no drowning), appetite issues/food eating, hurt/comfort

Smut Warnings: dom!jihoon, dirty talk, manhandling, strength kink, dumbification, breast/nipple play, oral r. rec., fingerfucking, biting, multiple orgasms, piv sex, creampie, pet names (princess, good girl), allusions to f. masturbation, reader goes into subspace a lil

Reader Notes: sub, taller than Jihoon, has breasts and a vagina, gets carried by jihoon, on some form of birth control, crybaby, she’s smart i swear being around jihoon just makes her dumb

You and Jihoon have been roommates for three years and best friends for two and a half when It happens.

It’s nearing midnight and most of the lights are off, the glare of the TV illuminating the room though it’s been muted for the past hour. You’re drunk on the couch and for once, Jihoon is drunk with you, helping you lament the shitty boyfriend you finally ditched.

Well, the shitty boyfriend who ditched you.

It stings that he was the one to end things, prickles to admit that maybe you had some hand in the crashing and burning of the relationship, but you still feel valid enough in his faults to complain to Jihoon about it on this dreary Friday night.

“We hadn’t even kissed in like… weeks. And sex? I counted myself lucky he didn’t seem interested, he was that disappointing,” you bemoan, dropping your head on his shoulder and hugging his arm to your chest. Jihoon doesn’t love physical contact, but you’ve worn him down and now, you’re the only person he allows free reign.

You think he even likes it at this point, especially when he presses his cheek to your head and sighs, “Men are the worst.”

“You’re a man, Jihoon,” you remind him, tilting your head up to glance at him, dislodging his cheek and making him look down at you.

“Yeah, but I don’t count, do I?” He says sardonically, knocking his forehead against yours.

“I don’t know anymore,” you mumble. “I just miss kissing, and being touched, and-,” you hiccup, though whether it’s due to tears or to drink, you don’t know. “And I miss someone loving me.”

Your eyes are misty now, Jihoon’s face blurry even though it’s inches from yours.

“You know I love you, right?” He asks softly, and you try to smile through the tears, appreciative of him for attempting to make you feel better.

“Yeah, but not like that,” you remind him, your eyes fluttering shut and your lips pouting.

“But I could kiss you like I do.”

You peek one eye open, blinking away the saltwater in your eyes, not even flinching when he brings a hand up to wipe it away from your cheek.

“You could?”

“I could,” he nods, his brows drawn together and his mouth tight. “I don’t want you to suffer like this if I can fix it.”

You think it through for a split second, consider the fact that Jihoon is your roommate, your best friend, and decide that you don’t care.

“Okay,” you whisper, fragility clear in your voice and in the fingers suddenly clutching at his shirt.

“Just… promise me nothing will change, that we’ll still be us after,” he murmurs, leaning closer to you until his lips are a breath from yours.

“I promise,” you tell him, though in the back of your mind, a voice whispers that something already has changed.

Then he kisses you, and your brain goes perfectly silent.

All you can feel is him, his palm on your face, his fingers in your hair, his soft lips sipping at yours much like the wine you downed together just an hour ago.

The room is quiet, filled only with your breathing and his, and every sensation is heightened by the peace surrounding you.

His hand tilts your face, changing the angle as he glides his tongue along your bottom lip, and when you gasp, it darts inside, learning, exploring.

Jihoon is lazy, you both know this, but apparently he’s the very opposite when it comes to kissing you because before long, he’s devouring you with vigor, panting into your mouth like he can’t catch his breath, searching like you’ve stolen it.

You’re not faring much better, your grip tight on his shirt and your cheek hot under his hand, forgetting to even breathe as he kisses you stupid. Literally, you feel dumb with it, empty headed, no thoughts occupying your mind except for Jihoon, Jihoon, Jihoon.

You suck in air when he rips his mouth away from yours, his fingers in your hair holding you back so you can’t follow him as his chest rises and falls erratically, a blush creeping up his neck and along his ears.

“You should get to bed,” he whispers, his eyes hooded and his voice rough.

“Yeah, I suppose I should,” you agree, even though you want to kiss him more, want him to take you apart, if you’re being honest. But something tells you not to push him this first night, not to ask for too much.

So you tease him instead, murmuring, “Tuck me in?” only to gape at him when he slides off the couch and takes hold of your hand, tugging you up off the sofa and to your room.

He waits on your bed as you half ass your skincare, handing you pajamas when you ask for them and getting up when you emerge from the bathroom. You climb under the duvet, think for just a second about asking him to join you, and whisper, “Goodnight, Jihoon.”

“Goodnight,” he whispers back, before leaning in close and pressing his lips to yours one last time, mumbling into your mouth, “One for the road.”

After he leaves, you fall into sleep slowly, and when you do, it’s deep, dotted with dreams that taste like him.

True to your word, nothing really changes.

Except for the fact that you just… kiss now.

When you’re tired, when you’re stressed, when you’re sad, when you’re needy.

All it takes is a look and a little pout and Jihoon is shaking his head and pressing his mouth to yours, his hand firm on your cheek and his tongue dancing over your bottom lip. You find yourself craving him when you’re at work or around friends or sometimes in your sleep, your dreams full of flashes of your body under his and his arms around you.

Your kisses haven’t progressed to that yet, though you’re hoping they will soon. He usually keeps them chaste but there are times you can tell he wants to take it further, by the way he holds your chin and angles your head so he can kiss you deeper, dirtier.

Just two weeks after that night, he’s become a habit you can’t quit.

It’s gotten to the point where he greets you with a smooch when you come home from work, a peck when you finish making dinner together, a soft kiss before you go to sleep in separate rooms.

Most of the time, you wish you could follow him into his bedroom, climb into his sheets and his arms and his ribcage, squish right in next to his big, juicy heart. But you promised nothing would change, that you and Jihoon would still be you and Jihoon, and you know that if you delete the spaces between you, it would change everything.

So you content yourself with his kisses, with the little touches you steal as often as you can, with the knowledge that at the end of the day, you do have someone who loves you, even if he doesn’t love you like that.

You’re laying on the couch with Jihoon, your legs resting on top of his thighs and his big hand warm on your ankle, when he asks you if anything interesting happened at work.

Normally, you would have nothing to share, but today, something exciting did happen.

“Oh! Yeah, actually, Jun from Accounting asked me out on a date,” you gush, your legs bouncing until his hand tightens into a near painful grip.

“I didn’t know you were looking to date again,” he says pensively, his eyes suddenly on the TV and away from yours.

“I mean, I’m not really, but he’s cute and sweet and I miss sex,” you sigh wistfully, letting your cheek rest on the back of the couch as you watch his jaw clench and unclench.

“What did I say when I told you I could kiss you like I love you?” He asks, his gaze on you again and so much heavier than before, so much weightier and darker. You can almost feel it like a physical touch, the way it roves over you, assessing.

“I don’t remember,” you respond honestly, your main memory of that night being the kiss.

“I said, ‘I don’t want you to suffer like this if I can fix it,’” Jihoon reminds you, before continuing, “You don’t know if this Jun guy will be any good, and I don’t want him to disappoint you.”

Your breath stalls in your chest at what you think he’s implying, but you need him to clarify before you jump to your own conclusions, fueled by delusion and desire as they might be.

“So… what are you saying?” You ask slowly, pushing down the hope and heat rising within you.

“I’m saying that I’ll take care of you. You miss being touched? You miss being fucked? Let me be the one, not some rando who might not even be able to make you cum.”

Fuck. He’s so- You don’t even know what he is at this point.

You sort of feel the need to leap to Jun’s defense, but by the fire in Jihoon’s eyes, you think that would be the wrong move to make right now. You also don’t know if you can speak, with your tongue tied by lust as it is.

He’s still staring at you, his face unreadable but his hand hot, tight on your ankle, like if you tried to get away, he wouldn’t let you.

That won’t be happening, not when all you want to do is crawl closer, into his lap maybe so you can feel his chest against yours and his heat between your legs, so he can pull you into him and show you just how well he can take care of you.

“Okay,” you breathe out, because you need to respond sooner or later, and that’s the only word you can summon at this moment in time.

“Tell Jun you won’t be going out with him,” Jihoon commands, and you bristle at his domineering tone but you also feel yourself clench, just a little. You acquiesce all the same.

hey Jun! i have to say no to your offer, i just don’t really like to mix business with romance, I’m sorry ☹️

“Done?” He asks, waiting for your nod to swipe your phone out of your hands, put it on Do Not Disturb, and slide it between the couch cushions before yanking you toward him by the grip he has on your ankle.

“Hey!” You exclaim, out of breath and full of indignation. “Don’t be rude.”

“We’ve been best friends for two and a half years, you think I don’t know what you like by now?” He asks rhetorically. “You like getting manhandled, like being talked down to, and then you like being treated like the pretty little princess you are. Am I wrong?”

God, he’s so hot. You hate him.

“No,” you answer petulantly. “You’re not wrong,” you continue when he raises an eyebrow and loosens his touch.

You barely even recognize Jihoon right now, he’s being so cocky and mean and sexy. The smirk he sends you makes you shiver, or maybe it’s the fingers swiftly smoothing up your leg. Curse your little pajama shorts and curse his big, warm hands.

He’s just about to reach your panties when you whisper, “Wait!”

“What’s wrong?” His eyes are sharp on yours, his hand frozen as he evaluates you for misgivings and anxieties.

“Just-,” you sigh and wriggle a little bit in shyness. “Not here, I can get… messy.”

His smirk is back and bigger than ever as he shoves your legs off his lap, stands, and leans down to haul you over his shoulder, making you gasp and cling to him for dear life.

“Jihoon, I’m too-“

“I squat 450, babe, you’re fine,” his palm cracks down on your ass as he speaks, both his words and his touch making you whimper.

You assume he’ll take you to your bed but he takes you to his instead, and when he roughly deposits you on his comforter and pushes your hands to rest above your head, all you can do is stare as he yanks his shirt off and tosses it to the side.

You see him topless often enough, but in this context, it’s different. You actually get to look this time, and you let your eyes travel slowly over every inch of pale skin and muscle, feeling your center start to throb when he palms his growing cock and slides his own little pajama shorts down.

He leaves on his boxer briefs and sets a knee on the bed, slowly climbing over you until he’s got his hands bracketing your head and his knees spreading your thighs. You’re surrounded by him, his scent overpowering in the best way now that you’re in his bed and under his body.

This is exactly where you’ve wanted to be for weeks, but now that you’re here, you find you’re feeling a little nervous. Jihoon, obviously, can read you like a book and asks in a low voice, “Would it help if I told you what I’m going to do?”

“Um, yes,” you answer, because of course it’ll help, in more ways than one. “You already know?”

“I have the makings of a plan. First, I think I’ll kiss you until your head is too empty for nerves. After that, I’ll play with your tits until you’re crying for me. Then, I’ll eat you out until you cum, and fuck you with my fingers until you cum again,” his voice is low, seductive enough that you’re nodding without even realizing it, close to begging before he’s even gotten started.

“And then you’ll fuck me?” You ask weakly, feeling small under him even though you’re taller than him in actuality.

“Maybe. If I feel like you’ve earned it,” he teases, or at least you hope he’s teasing, because if he doesn’t give you his dick tonight, you think you might go crazy.

“I feel better, I think,” you whisper faintly, and you actually do, now that you know how he’s going to take care of you, what he’s going to do to you.

“Good, that’s the goal here.”

He almost smiles, you can see his lips twitching, but he doesn’t let them stretch in a grin. Instead, he slowly lowers his body to lay over yours, dropping to his elbows and letting his legs relax so he’s pressed up against you, weighing you down to the bed. You feel safe, secure like this, and you can’t help but sigh into Jihoon’s mouth when his lips meet yours, a soft, relieved sigh born from knowing you’re in good hands.

Good, large, warm hands, one petting your head and the other cupping your jaw to pull you into his kiss, as if you need any encouragement. He’s gentle until he’s not, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip and his mouth sucking at the sting, his tongue pushing between your lips when they open on a gasp.

You feel more than hear his groan when you shyly glide your tongue against his, the sound rumbling through your mouth and straight down to your core. You’re already throbbing, just from this, and you can’t believe you’ll have to endure his evil, delicious mouth on your tits when he’s finally deemed you brainless enough to move on.

It won’t be long before that happens, you already know, because your thoughts are starting to sift through your fingers like sand, too hazy to pin down and not important enough to try. A voice in the back of your mind whispers this will ruin you, but then he does something with his tongue that makes your breath catch and your pussy clench, and the voice goes silent.

In fact, every racing thought in your mind is gone, eroded by Jihoon’s whirlwind, and you actually whine when he pulls away, your kiss-swollen lips open and attempting to chase him for more. He doesn’t let you, shifting back to sit on his knees and pulling you up with him so he can wrench off your tank top and flimsy bralette.

He lets out a shaky sigh, his eyes caught on the rise and fall of your tits as you try to regulate your breathing, before pushing you back down with a firm hand on your shoulder. He keeps the other on your waist, preventing you from just collapsing back on the bed, and follows you with his body, his gaze heady and his lips parted.

He doesn’t waste any time, immediately leaning down to suck a nipple into his mouth and bringing his fingers up to pluck and squeeze at the other, both of them pebbling under his attention. They’re extra sensitive today for some reason, but that might just be because it’s Jihoon touching them, wrapping his lips around them, warming them with the heat of his mouth and fingers.

Time slips away as he works you over, his tongue plush and soft and fever hot on your tits, his fingers unrelenting, just on the right side of mean as he twists and pinches whichever nipple isn’t in his mouth. He alternates every so often, never leaving a side neglected, and eventually gets into a rhythm that has you whimpering and arching into him, begging him with your body to keep going.

You can’t feel how wet you are with your legs spread by his body like this, but you have to be soaking by now with the way your cunt is fluttering, your walls squeezing down on nothing as he sucks and bites and worries at your breasts with his lips, his tongue, his teeth. You already want him to make you cum so bad, and you distantly remember what he said just a little bit ago.

Until you’re crying for me.

Well, you can certainly do that. The tears are already rising to your eyes, already burning in your throat, making your breath hitch and your chest stutter beneath him. You don’t know when you closed your eyes but they’re bleary when you open them, your lashes lined with saltwater as you look down at him.

He’s looking at you, probably has been this whole time, and when he sees the first tear fall, he pops off your nipple and presses his smirk into your breast, his hand still firm on the other.

“Jihoon, please,” you whisper thickly, and for a moment, you’re scared he’ll make you outline what you’re asking for. He doesn’t, thankfully, just shifts back up on his knees to admire his handiwork. You can only imagine the picture you must make, your chest covered in his teeth marks and your nipples swollen and spit-slick, your eyes half-lidded with desire and need, not a single critical thought behind them.

He visibly collects himself, taking in a deep breath and letting it flow out as he tucks his fingertips in the waistband of your shorts and panties. You don’t have enough brain power to think of lifting your hips to help him so he pulls them up with one hand and wrenches your pajamas down with the other, dropping you back down to the bed when they’ve cleared your ass and he can tug them the rest of the way off.

Your legs have bent in the process, your feet resting on his knees, and he takes hold of your ankles, straightening your legs out before dragging his hands up and setting them on your thighs. You expect him to push them apart, to move you like he has been, but instead he says, “Show me.”

You’re past being shy but you still feel a little vulnerable, so it takes you a few breaths to slowly spread your legs. The air clings to your arousal, cool compared to your heat, and the longer he stares, the faster your heart beats. His hands press to your inner thighs, keeping them apart so he can memorize every inch of you.

“Fuck,” he exhales laboriously. “You weren’t kidding.”

“About what?” You ask tremulously, with not even a bit of a clue as to what he’s talking about.

“About getting messy. You’re so fucking wet, I think I could slide in right now,” he sounds far away, like he’s imagining it, picturing himself sinking his cock into you, filling you up to the brim.

Now you’re picturing it too, and your thighs try to squeeze together to soothe the ache between your legs but he’s still holding them open, and he’s too strong for you to even bother fighting his grip.

“Maybe you should,” you moan enticingly, one hand leaving its place above your head to drift over your body and down to your pussy. It doesn’t get that far, not when he levels a stern, warning look at you, one that makes your clit pulse and your heart race.

Adequately discouraged, you bring your hand back up and lace your fingers together, leaving you spread out and powerless beneath him.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and you can’t hide the way the words light you up inside, make you want to be even more compliant for him, make you want to be so good you become his best girl.

He smirks at your response, a look in his eye like he’s filing every little reaction away for the future, making hope bloom in your chest that maybe there will be a future. You can admit that you don’t want this to be the only time, your first and last with him.

(What you can’t admit yet is that this is already more than sex for you.)

Fuck, your thoughts are coming back, no longer so nebulous and murky, now too solid for you to swim through like before. You know Jihoon can see it in your gaze, and he moves so quickly, you can hardly make sense of it.

Before you take another breath, he’s on his belly between your legs, your thighs still pushed apart by his hands as he all but dives into your dripping pussy. You don’t know what you expected but it definitely wasn’t this, his tongue pushing inside of you, reaching as far as it can go and licking your walls on its way out, his nose grazing your clit with every jerk of his chin into you. It feels like absolute heaven, his tongue so lithe and agile and smooth as it fucks in and out of you, sparks zipping through your veins with every drag of his nose over your clit.

He refocuses his attention, his mouth shifting to suck gently at the bundle of nerves, lulling you into a dreamy state driven by soft pressure and the vibrations of his little groans around you. Your head is finally, blissfully empty again, and Jihoon seems to be able to sense the switch, because he starts sucking harder, flicking his tongue back and forth over the bud until it has its own heartbeat.

You lift your head up, tucking your chin into your chest so you can watch him, his dark hair against your thighs, his face between your legs, that smart mouth wrapped around you.

You’ve never cum from just oral before, but you’ve also never had someone eat you out with so much dedication, so much fervor, and everything is made better by the fact that it’s not just someone, it’s Jihoon.

Jihoon, your best friend who you sometimes miss even when he’s sitting right next to you, his thigh pressed against yours and his arm around your shoulders.

Jihoon, your roommate who you occasionally stare at for just a bit too long when he stumbles into the kitchen wearing only his little shorts and a serious case of bedhead.

Jihoon, your Jihoon.

Suddenly, the wave is building, sucking you into its undertow, and you can’t keep your head up or your eyes open as pleasure grows and grows and grows until finally, the wave crests. It might have been your thoughts, it might have been the heady groan that reverberated around your clit, it might have been both. Either way, you’re lost under the surface in a sea of bliss, and when Jihoon breaks away and gets his knees under him, you assume it’s to offer you a hand, to help pull you out.

And then you feel that hand petting over your sensitive pussy, feel the drag of his fingertips over your clit, and you realize he’s not going to pull you out, he’s going to drown you further.

One finger slides inside of you, longer and thicker than your own, giving you something to clench down on as your walls continue to spasm with aftershocks of your orgasm. He bites out a swear, and internally you preen at his reaction to feeling you for the first time. Externally, you can only buck your hips into his touch and whine something that sounds like his name as he pulls his finger out and returns with two.

The fullness makes you sigh, the feeling of warm flesh and bone decadent after months of silicone, and when he crooks those fingers inside of you and starts searching, you know you’re done for.

You can’t ever find your g-spot on your own, your fingers are too short and your toys aren’t shaped right, and the second he locks in, you know he won’t stop. He’s the same when he’s writing a song - once he finds his flow, he could be lost to you for hours, days, weeks. The thought of him devoting that same focus to you sends a flash of electricity down your spine, one that ends with a squeeze of your cunt around him.

You can feel his eyes on you and blink your own open to meet his gaze, the eye contact hypnotizing, consuming. The next curl of his fingers brushes something inside of you that makes your face crumple, makes you forget how to breathe, and his stare grows determined as he taps his fingertips in the same spot. Instantly, you feel yourself get wetter, feel it seep out around his fingers and drip down your ass to his bed, and his face grows darker somehow, his stare penetrating and possessive.

He leaves the sensitive patch alone for a little bit, sliding his fingers in and out, getting you used to the rhythm and the sensation of being fucked with them, and then he starts grinding into it with every thrust, the muscles of his arm flexing as his pace rockets up. It sounds fucking obscene, the squelch of your soaking cunt around his fingers, especially paired with your breathy, high pitched noises, your whines and whimpers and gasps.

You’re already getting close again, but you don’t want to cum so soon, don’t want this to be over if he decides you haven’t earned his cock.

“Jihoon!” You squeak, squirming beneath him in pained pleasure, though you can’t get anywhere with his hand pressing your thigh down and his fingers filling you up.

“Be a good girl and take it for me, hm?” His voice is so low and rough, you almost don’t recognize it, but you listen anyway, trying your best to be still under his siege because all you want is to be good for him, for only him.

“There we go, that’s my girl,” he murmurs under his breath, his words like a live wire snaking around your throat, stealing your voice and leaving you to shudder beneath him as he works a third finger in and sets his thumb on your clit.

You wonder if he’s stretching you out to fuck you, or if he just remembers you tipsily spilling to him that you prefer to cum on three instead of two. You don’t want to get your hopes up so you stop thinking, just lay there and take it, exactly like he said. His knuckles pound against the lips of your cunt as he fucks you hard with his fingers, the tips hooking into your g-spot on every stroke in and scissoring on every stroke out.

You can feel heat spreading throughout your body, the fire starting in your lower belly and traveling through your veins to scald every limb, to raze every cell. You’re on the precipice of something great, something that will destroy you, but you need just a little more, though you don’t know what it is that you need.

Jihoon does, of course Jihoon does, and as soon as he demands, “Cum for me, now,” you feel the dam break and the euphoria flood you, the icy bite of release sharp and cutting, dousing all of the embers burning within you, leaving you to tremble and try to breathe through every last curl of his fingers. He’s still fucking you with them, but he’s slowed down, gentled his touch, eventually leaving them inside of you with his fingertips pressed right into that sensitive spongy spot.

You feel like you’re floating, adrift, lost, until he releases your thigh and leans down over you, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that feels starkly different from the rest. This one has purpose, it has meaning, it has heart, and the sheer longing you feel for him has tears welling up and bubbling out of the corners of your eyes, dripping down the sides of your face into your hair.

When he pulls away, you can’t stop them, and soon enough, you’re bawling like a baby. Usually, Jihoon seems uncomfortable with your crying, but now, he just pulls his fingers out of you with a slick pop and wipes them off on the comforter, laying down next to you and pulling you into his arms.

He lets you cry on his chest for who knows how long, one hand rubbing comforting circles on your back and the other cupping the cheek not pressed to his pec, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone in a soothing pattern.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispers into the air when your sobs start to taper off, replaced by soft breaths in and out as you slowly drop into sleep.

You know you’re in a nightmare.

You’re sprinting through the night, pouring rain pounding the street and covering the sounds of your footsteps. There’s a car ahead of you and somehow you know Jihoon is driving, and that’s what tips you off because Jihoon can’t drive.

You’re running as fast as you can, but not fast enough, even though the car seems to be slowing down, the distance decreasing between it and you until you can maybe, maybe reach out and latch onto the bumper. You throw a hand out and your fingertips graze the fender, and then it speeds up and disappears from sight, leaving you alone in the darkness of the storm, water steadily rising until it covers your knees, your hips, your waist. You try to float but something is weighing you down, and just as the water surges above your head, you wake up.

You blink rapidly in the dark, unfamiliar room, your heart thumping so hard in your chest that you can feel it, though you start to calm down when you take in a deep breath and all you can smell is Jihoon. You pat around the bed for him but find you’re alone in the room, dread pooling in your stomach as you start to wonder where he is.

You won’t be able to sleep again until you see him, until you know he won’t leave you behind like he did in the nightmare, so you clumsily roll out of bed, your limbs shaky and your thighs and pussy a bit tender from the way he handled you just a few hours ago. You stumble through the door, following the sound of soft snores to the living room where Jihoon is spread out on the couch, barely covered in a blanket.

A frown pinches his face, his brow tight with stress, and you want to smooth it out with your thumb, want to snuggle into the spaces left unoccupied, but you don’t want to wake him, and more than that, you don’t want to know if he’d push you away.

You try to tell yourself that he just likes to sleep alone, that you were too warm for him to really rest, that him leaving has nothing to do with what happened.

Deep down, you know it has everything to do with what happened.

You take in a shaky breath and exhale it quietly, praying he’ll stay asleep as you dig your phone out from between the couch cushions. He does, and you thank him for being such a deep sleeper before darting off to your room and checking your texts.

There’s one from your bestie, asking for updates about the developing situation between you and Jihoon (you could keep it from anyone but her), and a text from Jun, telling you no worries at all and that he’d see you around, which only makes your heart feel heavier.

Needing something to do, you strip Jihoon’s bed of the damp comforter and put it in the wash along with your shorts and panties, relying once again on his ability to sleep through anything.

You numbly carry out your skincare routine before putting yourself to bed, laying awake reliving every moment in his bedroom from beginning to end, ready to admit to yourself that you’ve changed like you promised you wouldn’t.

That he’s not just a best friend to you anymore.

That you no longer want to be you and Jihoon but youandJihoon, with no spaces in between.

That you might even be in-

No, you’re not ready for that yet.

You fall asleep eventually, and there are no more nightmares, but no more dreams either.

Jihoon is pulling away, and you don’t know what to do.

He doesn’t kiss you anymore, doesn’t cook with you anymore, doesn’t even watch TV with you anymore, even when you put on the anime you were powering through together. He just stays holed up in his room, keeps the door shut where it used to be open, coming out only to eat or go to the gym.

You’re trying to shake it off, the grip that night still has on you, but it’s difficult when you have no idea what’s going on with Jihoon.

Does he regret it? Is it that he can’t even stand the sight of you? What if he hates you now?

Those are the main questions that occupy your frazzled thoughts, though you fear with the way he’s behaving, you’ll never get an answer to them.

Soon enough, you find you can barely stand to be in the apartment with the ghost of him, the reminder of his absence like a punch to the gut every single time you do something without him.

You start spending more time at your best friend’s place, her boyfriend happy to lend her to you so he can game more, though he steals her back every night before you force yourself to return home.

When you do, you pass his closed door and tell yourself, you’re not in love with him, you’re not in love with him, you’re not in love with him, like a mantra.

You don’t think it’s working.

Four weeks pass by in much the same fashion, and you’re on the verge of tearing your hair out and begging him on your knees to come back when he finally shows himself.

You’re sitting in the kitchen alone, your comfort music playing on the smart speaker as you force yourself to eat even with your appetite all but gone. You hear his door open and freeze, torn between staying where you are to confront him and scurrying off to your room so you don’t have to see him.

He appears before you can make that choice, his mouth drawn tight and his face shadowed. He hesitates in the doorway like he’s not sure if he’s allowed inside, and you’re mad at him, so fucking mad at him, but more than that, you miss him.

Miss his quiet humor and his cackle of a laugh and his sparkling eyes and his warm body. You miss having his shine on you, miss knowing that you’re his favorite, that he doesn’t treat anyone else the way he treats you, that you’re special.

And fuck it, fuck everything, because you are in love with him.

So with a sigh, you offer, “There’s more fried rice on the stove, if you’re hungry.”

It’s not an olive branch but a lifeline, one you frantically toss into the treacherous sea that used to be your friendship, hoping he’ll take it and let you reel him back into your arms, into your life.

He forces a smile, one that doesn’t meet his eyes or even his cheeks, just barely curling the corners of his mouth as he lumbers over. He walks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, your very own Atlas, though you’ve never known his strength to falter, not until now.

He scoops up some rice into the bowl you still habitually leave out for him and joins you at the counter, sitting heavily on the stool across from you and starting to eat. He’s slow about it, as if his appetite is as minuscule as yours. You keep your eyes on your bowl, avoiding looking at the gauntness of his cheeks and the cut of his jawline and trying to work up the courage to ask him what the fuck is going on.

An hour passes and you’ve finally finished eating, Jihoon taking both your bowl and his to the sink, quickly washing them and the utensils as you pack up the leftovers and store them in the fridge. You finish around the same time, and the chasm between you seems to widen ever further, the ledge you’re trapped on shrinking before your very eyes.

He takes in a deep breath and clears his throat, and somehow, you just know he’s going to say something that will cleave your fragile heart in two. Something like ‘it was a mistake,’ or ‘we can’t do that again,’ or-

“I don’t think we should live together anymore.”

Oh.

Well, that’s infinitely worse.

“Okay,” you say dazedly, for the third time since you started this with him, because once again, you have no other words. Also maybe because you wouldn’t be able to get anything else out with the way you’re swallowing back tears.

“Okay?” He questions harshly, just a hint of life flowing back into him as his temper ignites. His brow furrows at you, his mouth opening and closing like he doesn’t know where to begin because there’s too much to say. “What do you mean, ‘okay’?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean? What else do you want me to say?” You can’t help but raise your defenses, attempting to protect all the little fragments of your heart as they lay at his feet.

“I want you to-,” he blinks rapidly, his face slowly turning red as he sputters, “Don’t you at least want to know why? We’ve lived together for three fucking years, I thought you’d care a little more.”

“Don’t turn this around on me! Of course I fucking care,” you don’t mean to raise your voice, but you can’t believe his audacity, abandoning you for weeks on end and then expecting you to chase after him. “But I don’t know if I want to know why, because this already fucking hurts! It’s hurt for the past month. I mean, I literally cried myself to sleep on you and then woke up alone. And I’ve been alone every day since. How do you think that’s made me feel?”

You don’t want to cry in front of him right now, not after what happened last time, but you can’t hold back the tears anymore, not when they’re burning behind your eyes and closing up your throat.

“I was trying to protect you, I still am,” he claims desperately, softening at your words and the sight of your watering eyes. “I can’t be what you need.”

“I don’t need you to be anything but my best friend,” you whisper brokenly, lying through your teeth in an effort to keep him here, keep him close.

“That’s the problem.”

He sounds like he’s pleading for you to understand, to find the hidden meaning in his words, but you’re too worked up, too on edge and hurt to make sense of anything.

“How is that a problem? You made me promise nothing would change, that we’d still be us, and now me wanting you to be my best friend is a problem?”

“Well, I’m sorry but I didn’t think I would fucking fall in love with you!” He all but shouts, his eyes wide and his chest heaving before he sucks in a shuddering breath and takes a step back, running a hand through his messy hair and looking away from you.

His words ring in your ears, blending together into a jumble of sounds that you can’t parse through, until you’re not sure he even uttered them at all.

“Say that again?” You request quietly, feeling a bit out of your body, a bit out of your mind.

“Don’t make me, please, not when you don’t-,” he stops himself like he can’t bear to speak the words.

So he really did say it.

“And how do you know I don’t? Did you ever even think to ask before trying to take yourself out of my life?” You whisper with exhaustion and misery, wounded feelings warring with the hope attempting to blossom within you.

Jihoon seems stunned at your questions, like he really, truly was certain you didn’t love him back.

“Were you protecting me, or yourself?” You have to ask, if only to make him realize what seems so obvious to you.

“Maybe… maybe both,” he bites his lips and looks away, crossing his arms over his chest as his shoulders tense with what you assume is regret and perhaps a little embarrassment. That’s not why you asked him those things, and you can’t bear to see him so closed off to you still, not now that you know how he feels.

“Jihoon, I didn’t expect to fall in love with you either, but I did. Like, after the first kiss, if I’m being honest,” you laugh weakly at yourself, hoping to put him more at ease.

“You did?” He asks cautiously, waiting for your nod to let some of the tension in his shoulders go.

You take a step toward him and then another, and another, until you’re close enough to grip both of his arms and unfold them.

He lets you, his gaze back on your face, something like pained wonderment in his eyes as you tuck his arms around your waist and cup his cheeks. You lean in, your lips just inches from his, and whisper, “Kiss me like you love me?”

“Should be easy enough,” he whispers back before pressing his mouth to yours gently, reverently, his hands careful on your back as he tugs you closer. This kiss reminds you of the last one you shared, the one that made you sob yourself to sleep, but this time, there’s no longing involved, no sadness, because this time, you know he’s yours.

He pulls away before you’re ready, but you release his cheeks and let him go, love-tinged surprise bursting in you when he holds you tighter and pulls you into a hug. He buries his face in your neck and you twine your arms around his, one hand sinking into his hair to scratch at his scalp and the other rubbing his back as he breathes you in.

You’re always the one seeking affection, the one reaching for him, and you feel the cracks in your fractured heart start to seal back up as he whispers into your skin, “I love you, so fucking much.”

“I love you more,” you murmur, laughing freely when he pulls back and says, “Don’t even start, you know I’ll win.”

“Yeah, because you fight dirty,” you tease, giggling until he promises, “Baby, you have no idea.”

He claims your lips in a deep, ardent kiss, one that soon makes your knees weak and your thoughts turn to stardust in your head. One of his hands rises to the nape of your neck, holding you to him and controlling the angle so he can kiss you how he wants. The other drops to your hip, pushing you against the counter as he knocks your legs apart with a knee and fills the space in between with his body.

You gasp into his mouth and he slips his tongue inside of yours, a rumbling groan vibrating into your lips when your fingers clench in his hair. It’s so soft and his body is so hard, the dichotomy of the sensations stealing your breath as he pushes himself against you, grinding his thickening bulge into your thinly covered core.

You’re wearing those blasted pajama shorts again but of course it’s laundry day so they’re the only layer covering your center, and almost embarrassingly rapidly, you feel them dampening. You don’t know if Jihoon can feel it too but he’ll notice soon enough, and you can already picture the pleased smirk that’ll stretch his lips when he realizes how wet you’ve gotten for him.

It’s not your fault though, he’s so hot and you love him so much and he still hasn’t fucked you. It’s been four weeks since he touched you, and when you weren’t battling through nightmares, you were stuck in dreams of him touching you more. You still couldn’t conjure the feeling of his cock, or even the look of it, and deep below the raincloud of loneliness that’s been following you, there was a hunger, a yearning, a desperation to finally know him in this way.

Unable to stand it any longer, you break the kiss and summon your courage to pant, “Please fuck me, Jihoon.”

You expect him to tease you, to draw this out until you’re really begging, but he just releases you and takes your hand, dragging you behind him to his bedroom. When he pulls you through the doorway, you gasp at the sight that greets you, piles of clothes on the floor and sheet music and scrawled lyrics taped to nearly every free inch of the walls.

He’s normally clean, meticulous, about both his music and his space, and part of you feels sad that he’s been affected this much, but another part of you feels relieved that he’s suffered just like you have. The rest of you feels ravenous, and that’s what you focus on as he rips off his shirt and reaches for yours, his eyes hot on your breasts when they’re revealed to him.

His hands cover them immediately, cupping to test the weight of them and squeezing to feel the give, his thumbs rubbing circles around your nipples until they pucker for him. A shiver rolls through you as he ducks his head to suck one into his hot, wet mouth, groans vibrating against your skin like he loves the taste of you. He moves over to the other side, nipping at the bud and laving his tongue over it, his fingers pinching and pulling the one that’s still spit-slick.

When he pops off and brings his eyes back to yours, they’re deep, dark, covetous, and you’re so hypnotized by his stare that you don’t even notice he’s wrapped his arms around your waist until he lifts you and drops you onto his bed.

You land on your back, your breath exiting your lungs in a whoosh, knocked out by his rough handling, the action only making you feel hotter for him. He doesn’t give you much time to recover, his fingers tucking in the hem of your shorts and starting to pull them down. You have enough wherewithal to lift your hips for him this time, and when he tosses your shorts aside, you don’t even wait for him to tell you what to do, you just rest your hands above your head, spread your legs, and let him see the mess he’s made of you.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, climbing onto the bed and settling on his stomach between your thighs, his head turning and his teeth latching onto the sensitive skin along the inside. It stings but you love the ache, hope you’ll bear the indentations for days after, though you know he’ll just replace them when they fade away.

He releases you when he’s satisfied, licking over the dents to soothe the burn before pressing his hands to the backs of your thighs and lifting them onto his shoulders. His eyes meet yours just as he leans forward and drags his tongue from cunt to clit, the fire in them sparking brighter when you buck into his mouth and whine sharply.

His thumbs come up to spread your pussy apart and then he’s on you, sucking, nibbling, biting, relearning every fold and contour of your cunt with apt attention. His tongue darts inside, tasting you at the source, and the groan that escapes him reverberates through your whole body, making your thighs squeeze around his head.

He moves his hands, one wrapping tight around your thigh and pulling it to the side to give him more room, the other shifting down to pet at your entrance. He lets you take in a breath before he starts to sink two fingers inside of you, pushing at your walls to make space until his knuckles are flush with your cunt.

You can feel yourself fluttering around his digits, the fullness blissful and the warmth comforting, and you almost think you have a hope of lasting more than a few minutes until his lips wrap around your clit and his fingers curl.

How he can pinpoint your g-spot after just one encounter, you don’t know, but all you can do is hold tight to the sheets beneath your hands and try not to scream as he builds up his rhythm. It’s fast, staccato, his fingers tapping into that spongy spot over and over, your arousal so abundant it’s seeping out of you.

He works in a third finger, and that’s when you know it’s over, the stretch of your inner muscles around him immaculate as he grinds his fingertips into your front wall, playing you like an instrument and drawing the orgasm out of you as if he’s conducting an orchestra.

His mouth is nowhere near as graceful, the pulse of his lips around your clit erratic and hurried, his mouth opening wider every so often to gather more of your arousal on his tongue and swallow it down.

The difference in sensations is what sends you careening over the edge, freefalling through the clouds of euphoria until Jihoon rips himself away from you and yanks you back down to earth.

“Fuck, I have to be inside of you,” he slurs, his face red and his eyes hazy. He lowers your thighs to the bed and sits up on his knees, licking around his glossy lips to chase the taste of you as he pushes his shorts and underwear down enough to free his dick.

Your eyes fly to it immediately, desperate to get your first look, and when it bobs in the air, a pearl of precum dripping from the head down the shaft, you almost want to cry.

You didn’t think dicks could be pretty but Jihoon’s is fucking gorgeous; thick and long enough to make you ache tomorrow, lightly pink toned until the head where it’s red and blushed, the entire thing so hard you feel your core throb just at the thought of having it inside of you.

“Please, please, please,” you whimper, need clear in your voice as you watch him crawl toward you.

He doesn’t stretch himself out on top of you like you expect, instead laying on his side next to you and sliding the arm closest to you under your back, gathering your legs with his other arm so you’re bundled up against his chest. You can’t help but wrap your own arms around him, holding him to you for both stability and comfort, your eyes caught on his as he looks down at you.

You love feeling so close to him after so many weeks apart, love being surrounded by him and held by him, love feeling his heart beating and his lungs expanding against you, evidence that he’s alive and he’s here with you.

“Line me up, baby. I’ll do the rest,” he murmurs low in your ear, and you obey as if you’re under his spell, reaching around your legs to take hold of his perfect cock and align it with your entrance.

“Good girl,” he whispers, just as he starts to push inside, and you know he said it then so he could feel how your pussy responds to him but you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed, not when his face flushes with pleasure, his brows pushing together and his mouth falling open as he carves a path inside of you that’s just for him to tread, just for him to own. He feels like magic inside of you, the way he fills you to the brim and warms you from the inside out, the way you finally feel complete, like he’s the last piece to your puzzle.

He’s still for a few trembling seconds, and you can’t tell if he’s letting you get used to him or if he’s trying to keep from cumming, but either way, you want to torment him, just a little.

So you squeeze your inner muscles around him, luxuriating in the tightening of his hands on you and the swear he grits out, his eyes flashing heatedly at you as he draws his hips back and shoves them forward.

The loss of him makes you whine but the sudden fullness makes you keen, your cheeks heating at the sound of him bottoming out inside of you, the squelch that follows making him smirk. He can’t hold it for long, not when he gives you one testing thrust, then a second, then a third, and you cry out for him every single time.

You’re responsive in bed, you knew this already, but you never thought you’d be this loud, this wet, this pliant for him. All you want to do is lay here in his arms and let him fuck you how he wants, use you how he wants, take you how he wants, letting him know with your voice and your pussy just how much you love every single second.

You don’t want to think, or call the shots, or make decisions, not when you know you don’t need to with him, and suddenly you remember him saying, “You like being treated like the pretty little princess you are,” and fuck, he was right.

Jihoon must see it in your eyes, how the submission has taken over, because he coos and presses his lips to your cheek, still fucking in and out of you as he says, “You are my good girl, aren’t you?”

You manage to nod and whine, “Wanna be your best girl.”

His face softens even as his thrusts don’t, his voice gentle as he says, “You already are, baby. You’re my best girl and my only girl, okay? So don’t worry your pretty little head with anything, I’ll take care of you.”

That’s enough to have you tearing up again, this time in relief and rapture. He doesn’t miss a beat, kisses away the saltwater as it dots your cheeks and continues to sink into you so deeply, it’s like you can feel him in your guts.

Pleasure starts to spool up inside of you, scorching twine coiling tighter and tighter and tighter, moans and whimpers continuously escaping your parted lips as you feel a rush of molten gold surge through your veins, your pussy fluttering and then clamping down on him.

He shudders out a groan and fucks you through it, the friction on your rippling walls sublime, elongating your ecstasy until he finally breaks with you, filling you with a burst of warmth as his white hot cum coats the depths of you, starting to gather around your entrance when it has nowhere left to go.

You pant, trying to catch your breath and gather what little wits remain as he tucks his legs up beneath your thighs, removing the arm bolstering them and bringing his hand up to caress your cheek.

Your tears are starting to dry up as you slowly come back to yourself, and he brushes the remnants away, whispering soothing, affectionate words to you.

He tells you how much he's missed you, how sorry he is for shutting you out, for leaving you alone. He tells you how he hasn't been able to stop thinking about you, how everything he's written for the past month has either been a love song or a breakup song, how all of them made him cry too much to record a guide so sorry, baby, but you can't listen to any yet.

Then he tells you that he loves you, that you never have to worry about being alone again, that he'll be with you for the rest of your life.

So when he carefully reclaims his arms, kisses your temple and slowly pulls out before climbing off the bed, you don’t panic, because you know that he’s not leaving leaving, that he’ll come back to you this time.

And when he does, a warm, damp washcloth in one hand and your water bottle in the other, you feel a bone-deep love settle into you, one that you know is here to stay.

AN: shamelessly self indulgent, reader is me i am reader

thank you for reading, i know this was a long one!

pls lmk your thoughts i am desperate to know 😩

this is the longest oneshot i've ever written but i really wanted to have a complete narrative and im so happy with it but also nervous to share it 🥹

inspired by pretty please by dua lipa but became a beast of its own

1K notes · View notes

thelargefrye · 10 months ago

Text

ATEEZ AS MIDDLE SCHOOL TEACHERS ... bullet - point fic ( 17+ )

pairing : teacher!ateez x teacher!f!reader (separately)

genre : teacher au, fluff, comedy, workplace romance, bulletpoint headcanons, implied co-workers to lovers (for all of them), secret relationships (for a lot of them)

word count : 4.1k

warnings : middle schoolers (yes this is needed), mentions of students shipping their teachers, mentions of a past make-out from college (mingi's section)

note : inspired by these prompts and my own job lol

honorary tag : @sanjoongie

what i think it would be like working with ateez in a middle school and perhaps being something more than co-workers with them.

KIM HONGJOONG

he's a math teacher – seventh grade and also head of the math department at the school

when he's teaching, he's in his element and he's very passionate about teaching his student and the content

he was terrible at math when he was a student and often tells his own students in order to motivate them...

sometimes it works but most times it doesn't

he's definitely one of the more stricter teachers at the beginning of the year, but lets up near the end of the year

students love him, like there's not one kid who hates him

some students do wonder how he manages to get away with his funky hair colors, but no one really questions it anymore

he's also very stylish and is known for his fashionable looks that make him look like he just came off the runway

the two of you met when you started teaching at the same school, he's been teaching for two years longer than you have

you also teach seventh grade and immediately clicked as friends on your first day

he answers any questions you have that isn't content related and is kind of seen as the head of the seventh grade as well

he gets along well with the older teachers who have been doing this for 20+ years, those teachers either go to you or him when they need help with the new programs that admin is making them use in class

a lot of the students ask him if you two are dating because you're the younger teachers in the grade-level and are always hanging out

"dating? why are you worried about who i'm dating? we have equations to worry about," he would say and always brush them off

most of the students drop, not really wanting to make hongjoong upset but that doesn't mean the question won't come up again later on

your students will also ask you the same question and like hongjoong, you brush them off and not really answering them

the students would often go back and forth on if you two were dating or not with some even trying to provide "evidence" that you were dating

and some students gave up on thinking that their literature and math teacher were dating

until one day you showed up to school wearing a cardigan

and not just any cardigan

a cardigan that hongjoong wore a month ago, one that students knew was custom made by their teacher himself

and the whole seventh grade lost their minds because holy cow, their literature teacher and math teacher WERE in fact dating

the evidence of you wearing hongjoong's cardigan was enough to convince all the students it was true

so then some of them decided to confront you both

"teacher kim, teacher l/n we know your secret."

you and hongjoong were of course confused because of course your students had to be cryptic about everything... seventh graders 😒

"we know you guys are dating! teacher l/n, you're wearing teacher kim's custom cardigan!"

hongjoong had never turned his head so fast in his life and he immediately looked at the cardigan and sure enough

it was his

and you two were busted because now all your students knew you both were at least something, if not more than friends

PARK SEONGHWA

seonghwa teaches eighth grade reading / literature, he also has his masters in special education and administration

he is also the teacher that heads student council – like he built it from the ground up after the teacher before him let it crash and burn allowed it to be ruined

but seonghwa rebuilt the student council club and now its flourishes thanks to his leadership skills and teaching the students those same leadership skills

being a teacher is like a family job, his mother was a teacher and taught at the same school that he now teaches at

he wanted to become one to continue her legacy

students think he's way too handsome to be a teacher

he's also way too nice to be a teacher but like... none of the students ever give him issues

like even the behavior students don't disrespect him like they would other teachers – its kind of crazy

you had always admired seonghwa because of how good he was at his job and honestly... you were kind of jealous of him too

but you wouldn't dare tell him

you can't help but be amazed when you watch him speak at department meetings and how he always voices his thoughts so elegantly

seonghwa is also never afraid to help you if he sees you struggling or to ask for your opinion during meetings when he notices you haven't spoken

and he'll always back you up which surprises you because you aren't friends or even in the same grade

you kind of developed a crush on him but again you would never tell him or anybody for that matter

which to be honest, your crush and admiration is probably what lead you to volunteering to help out with the student council overnight trip to a student council convention

it was you, seonghwa, plus the ten student council students that qualified to go

you really never knew who exhausting planning a field trip was and seonghwa amazed you once again with how well-planned out the trip was

it kind of made you feel guilty because of how little you did to help out with the planning

"don't feel bad y/n! i'm glad you volunteered to come, i usually struggle with finding someone to come with me to help chaperone."

"really?"

"yeah."

well... that did make you feel a little better

and of course since you two were the only chaperones, that meant the two of you got to room together

the students were pretty sure they almost saw you pass out in the hotel lobby when seonghwa told you that

"teacher l/n, are you okay! you don't look so good!"

"i'm fine..."

"you're fine with sharing a room together right?" seonghwa asks once the two of you are alone in the hotel room

the students were also in their own hotel rooms and winding down after the long trip, you could feel yourself sink into the bed once you got into the room

"its fine, i don't mind," you tell him and seonghwa gives you a warm smile as he settles down on the bed next to yours "are field trips always this exhausting?"

"only the overnight ones"

"great"

JEONG YUNHO

eighth grade history teacher but he's also taught sixth grade history in the past as well

yunho is very serious about teaching and strict when it comes to listening, doing work, being respectful, etc.

especially in the beginning of the year, but does let up a little bit near the end and after exams and stuff

he has a strict schedule that he follows when teaching his content and knows his content like the back of his hand

he has a routine and the students are quick to learn it and make sure the others are at least doing what they are suppose to be doing when the bell rings

but despite how strict and stuff he is, yunho loves teaching and the kids love his class

even if they don't like it at the beginning, the class and yunho will grow on them before the year is over

even the other teachers respect yunho and will ask him on how he teaches certain events and whatnot, always going to him for tips on where to find good materials

yunho is like the jack-of-all-materials

even has his own tpt page because of how much stuff he has made for his own class and co-workers

you will also always find him and san hanging out together in each other's room during their planning time

usually gossiping about students or other teachers

students have learned that when san walks into yunho's room, then its serious because san never leaves his room during class time

also no one ever really bothers yunho because of how strict he is with teaching and getting everything he needs done, to get done

however, students are shocked when you walk into yunho's room one day WHILE he's teaching to ask him a question

like their jaws drop when yunho stops teaching in order to help you with something and laughing with you as he brushes your apology off

it was like they just watched a mean dog turned into the friendliest puppy when you walked in

some of them questioned if they were transported to a different reality because there is no way this is happening

you and yunho are like night and day, yunho with dark button-ups and you with your funky colored pants

"you're seeing this to right?" one of them would whisper to the other students around them

the students were too stunned to speak

"hey! get to work, i expect you to have these notes written down by the time i'm done," yunho would say and immediately the students would get to work

"thank you teacher jeong, i appreciate the help with this new program"

"sure, its no problem," he says as he walks you to the door. "choi came to me during planning asking about it plus some other teachers as well"

"ah, well glad i'm not the only one struggling!" you let out a laugh and yunho returns it and laughs with you, "i'll see you after school, yeah?"

"of course"

you wave as you close the door behind you and yunho immediately goes back into his teaching mode

once again leaving his students shocked and with whiplash from how fast his attitude changed

"we really were in just another reality"

KANG YEOSANG

seventh grade history but wants to one day be a librarian

yeosang loves history but is also certified to teach reading/literature

a lot of the students and teachers love him for how nice he is to everyone

he really connects well with the behavior students, like a lot of them will always say he's there favorite teacher

even the ones who never come to class, go to yeosang's class because who in their right mind who skip teacher kang's class?

no one that's who

students will always go to him when there's an issue because they know he will help them

that's why a lot of them are surprised when they find out him and wooyoung are best friends since high school

"you and teacher jung are best friends!?"

"yep! have been for years!" and yeosang is proud to say that him and wooyoung are best friends and can teach together at the same school

none of the students can get over how handsome he is as well and a lot of sixth graders can only hope to get him in seventh grade

"teacher kang, you're so handsome you could be an actor!"

yeosang can only smile at the comments, not really saying anything as he's use to those comments by now

well coming from his students or other adults that is

however, hearing those comments (or reading them) from you is a different story

he doesn't know how you manage to time it whenever his students are doing independent work but you do

he'll be at his desk or walking around, when you come in and some the students will immediately greet you

you simply smile and wave at them before walking over to hand yeosang something

"i got the stuff from your mailbox while i was at mine," you told him

yeosang thanks you and you smile at him before turning and leaving

you usually go to the mailbox when you need a break from your class and there's already someone in there to help

yeosang looks at the stuff in his hands, and notices the folded piece of paper that had his name written nicely in your handwriting

he opens it as he walks to his desk and immediately feels a warmth overtake his face

'you look really pretty today, yeo ;) can't wait to hangout after school in our usual place! miss you already!'

yeosang quickly stored the note in his desk, before quickly going back to teaching and trying to hide the excitement of seeing you later to the back of his mind

CHOI SAN

eighth grade reading/literature teacher along with seonghwa and school's volleyball coach

he played volleyball when he was in school and so he's very passionate about the sport and his athletes

a tough coach and an even tougher teacher, but only because he knows all his students can do better than what they showing him

like seonghwa with student council, san managed to help the volleyball team go to nationals thanks to his coaching and the his girls' effort and teamwork

a lot of students are scared of him because of how he coaches, especially his athletes – like even just the mention of san gets them scared

but really san just wants the best for all his students and just like volleyball, he's also passionate about his teaching

very writing focused versus seonghwa who is more reading based, but they work really well together to make sure all their students are getting the same knowledge and material

san's not afraid to speak his mind during department meetings and the other teachers know this – like he will straight up call something out if he knows it won't work

seonghwa usually has to cut him off because of this, they are a very funny duo and students love watching them interact

"teacher choi is like a dark cloud and teacher park is like a sunny day"

like the kids, you are also intimidated by him because of how much just pure authority he gives off

like you would think he's a principal from how students act around him

he actually does step up as an admin when the actual principals are out of the building because he does have his masters in administration, so he could very well one day become a principal

but going back to you being intimidated by him 💀

you never really dared to approach him, always sitting on the opposite side of the room during department meetings

mainly because you didn't want to get on his bad side

"please teacher l/n, can you help us start this club?"

"sure, girls!" you were more than happy to help sponsor their club "who's the other teacher?"

you watched as the girls' faces deflated at the question, of course you don't blame them for not knowing that clubs needed two teachers to become official, not just one

"i have a teacher in mind!"

"who?" "tell us!"

"coach choi, can help! especially since volleyball is over!"

you felt the color drain from your face at the thought of san and you running a club together

"teacher l/n will you ask coach choi if he can help us?"

"sure... i'll ask."

"a club?"

"yeah, some of your volleyball girls recommended you and wanted to see if you could be the second teacher sponsor."

"ah, that's right. the school has that stupid two teacher club sponsor rule. always did think that was dumb."

san thought for a minute which felt like a lifetime the longer you stood in his classroom

"sure, why not. i'm sure it'll be fun to run a club together."

"i'm sure the girls will also appreciate it. i'll send you the information when i hear back from the principal about the club."

"of course, if you have any issues let me know."

"will do, thanks!"

that was definitely a lot less nerve-racking then you thought it would be...

maybe running a club san won't be so bad after all

SONG MINGI

mingi is THE ms. frizzle aka the best science teacher you will ever have

he teaches sixth grade science and is always having some sort of fun with testing experiments and theories with the students

science class will forever be ruined after you have him as a teacher because no one is doing it like mingi

literally older students will come by to see either him or wooyoung and they will always ask mingi what he is currently doing in that class

and while he's an amazing teacher – he's also hella clumsy

like students learn fast not to leave their things in the floor if they don't want this 6ft tall man tripping over and possible destroying their things

someone save this man from all those decorative pencil pouches and metal water bottles pls 💀

anyways, a lot of students love mingi because of his fun personality and not because he almost below up the science lab because a experiment gone wrong

very much into team building and having all the students work together towards a goal because he knows how important teamwork is in life and wants students to have it

a lot of students are actually intimidated by him when they first see him because of his tall stature and harsh look

but he's really cool once him and the students build that rapport

so a lot of students were surprised when they found out that you and mingi were best friends

it never really clicked for most of them since you both taught different grades AND subjects

but then during school assemblies and such, you and mingi would always be sitting next to each other

whispering and laughing to each other and it would leave students bewildered when they saw the two of you

like "what in the world are they laughing about?"

"you know... the kiddos asked me the other day about us," you said, leaning over and whispering into his ear

"yeah?"

"they asked me how long we've been friends"

"w-what did you tell them?"

"since college, i left out the part where you made out with my best friend before tripping over her bag and landed into my lap."

you could tell mingi was blushing, his ears turning red at your words

"i-it wasn't like that!"

"i know, no need to feel embarrassed. i agreed to go out with you didn't i?"

you couldn't help the smirk on your face while mingi had a pout on his own, completely forgetting that the two of you were suppose to be watching the talent show and not flirting

JUNG WOOYOUNG

teaches sixth grade math and is an on-going menace to his students

you either love or hate him because of how he teaches and runs his classroom

always changing the seating desk arrangement in his room which keeps students on their toes

he's always a complete 180 from hongjoong who is the head of the math department

like students get whiplash when they go from wooyoung to hongjoong because of how different they are

but that's not to say wooyoung is bad at his job, on the contrary wooyoung is fantastic at his job

always has a math pun ready to whip out when needed and is always dishing out savage remarks to his students when they try to be a smart-ass to him

they learn quick that they won't be able make smart comments with him around

wooyoung is just very blunt with how he's feeling – like if a student makes him mad you'll know he's mad

does a lot of bootcamp punishments (i.e makes them do exercises when they don't listen to him like: jumping jacks, squats, nothing too extreme) this makes kids not want to disrespect him because they know what will happen if they do

some parents have thought it was "extreme" but he simply told them "well it got your child to listen for once in their life" – that shut the parent up real quick

but wooyoung rarely gets serious because he has the respect from students and so those bootcamp punishments are rare and few in-between

most of the time he's fun and playful which also travels over to how he acts with his fellow teachers

including you

wooyoung always visits you when he's on his planning period

like your class can always expect him to stop by at least once during their class

which none of them mind cause that means they can see their favorite math teacher again but don't tell hongjoong that

however with his constant visits, it makes students question if you guys are dating

especially when wooyoung is always complimenting you when you're at your desk and you both think that the students can't hear you

"you look very lovely today, teacher l/n."

"watch yourself, jung."

you eventually have to run wooyoung off so you can get back to teaching

"oh they are totally dating" students would whisper to each other watching the two of you interact

students really really ship you guys together and are always questioning you about your ideal type and stuff

but you always brush off their questions and comments about how you and teacher jung would look great together

and eventually the students had moved on to something else and you were thankfully left alone about your love life by your students

until one day when you and wooyoung were spotted by some students outside of school

you and him had went to the store together, not really thinking about school as you both spent time together

however that peace between the two of you was set ablaze when heard a familiar "teacher l/n! teacher jung!" and snapping the two of you out of your daze

wooyoung was quick to greet the students who approached you both, a smile on his face and arm around his shoulder

and you knew your secret was out because of how the students' zoned in on wooyoung's arm around your shoulder

you couldn't help but dread what would happen when you arrive at school tomorrow

"i didn't like keeping it a secret anyways," he would making you smack the back of his head in response before pushing the shopping cart and walking away from your boyfriend

CHOI JONGHO

eighth grade math who got roped into teaching seventh grade science as well

jongho is really in his element when it comes to math

and is really hanging by a thread when it comes to science

like he's the opposite of mingi and HATES science – like who thought it was a good idea to have this man teach it?

oh, they did a budget cut and so they were down a science teacher? makes sense.

the kids either love or hate him because of how he teaches

his eighth graders and seventh graders are like night and day when it comes to literally everything

it might also have something to do with the content but just let him complain about his seventh graders

you actually found him one day in the workroom stressing over his science while eating his ramen

you remember some of your kids talking about jongho and you've seen him at faculty meetings

but never had a one-on-one conversation with him mainly because he was in a totally different content and grade from you (he was still an eighth grade teacher at the end of the day)

you know hongjoong really likes him and praises him for learning how to adapt so well to a new content era that he never studied in

you think that for a first-year teacher he's doing a lot better than you had when you were in his shoes

and you figure what's the harm in talking to him and seeing how he's doing

"everything going okay, teacher choi?"

he's caught off guard by your voice, jumping and looking up at you as you walk over to get your copies from the copier

"oh, um, i'm fine. just thinking about what i'm gonna do for my science class"

"ahh, that's fair, i still can't believe they have you teaching science and math for your first year"

jongho lets out a laugh which is followed by a small "yeah... i can't either"

"but hongjoong says that you're doing a good job for your first year, so you should be proud! hongjoong never compliments anyone"

"really?"

"really. and just know that if you ever need help just reach out. i know you're not a seventh grade teacher but us who teach seventh grade needs to stick together. its a tough group."

"oh my god, i'm so glad you think that as well! i thought it was just me!"

"oh no, everyone knows seventh grade is always the worse year, we all struggle with them at some point"

"that really makes me feel better about doing my job"

"jongho, you're doing a great job. the kids love you and there will always be those kids that make you feel like you are terrible at your job. but all you have to do is teach to the ones who want to be there, and worry about them."

you tell him the exact same words you were told when you were a first year and thinking the same thing

"thank you, y/n"

you can't help but smile as you nod your head, taking your copies and heading back to your room while jongho finishes his ramen

tag list : @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @pyeonghongrie @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @dementedaly @simeonswhore @moonm1st @nvmbheart @spooo00oky @frgogh @sookacc @seongwin @burnsmepls @ad0rechuu @tunaasan @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @cheesekimchi @confusedmoonchild777 @mjyungi @innieontop @iweirdthingsblog @s0obinluvr @worcesheshestershiresauce @moonlightgrleric @wineyoungie @jeongwangjessmina @lemineso

network : @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

#cultofdionysusnet #cromernet #kdiarynet #ateez x reader #ateez blurbs #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez headcanons #ateez hongjoong x reader #ateez seonghwa x reader #ateez yunho x reader #ateez yeosang x reader #ateez san x reader #ateez mingi x reader #ateez wooyoung x reader #ateez jongho x reader

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exhaslo · 10 months ago

Note

Here me out….Miguel x femvillian reader who gets defeated in a fight by him. She has a rough life and turned to crime just to try to do anything to better her situation…it doesn’t.

Before Miguel can take her to custody she tells him to kill her. This strikes a cord with Miguel so he takes her to HQ instead to keep an eye on her. Maybe after so time they see past their differences and bond over them having bad home lives or trauma or something.

She starts to turn her life around and Miguel still checks in on her, they have a banter and friendship despite everything.

Then maybe they fall in love confessing to each other….👉👈 idk just some sweet romance maybe smut? Honestly whatever you think.

Awe, I can totally do this. I think it would be best to keep it fluff due to how I plan on writing the beginning of this story, but hell, if I ever get time for a part 2, smut all the way!!

Also, I'm so sorry this was so late. Now that the holidays are over with, I was able to get back to requests!!!

Warning: Thoughts of suicide, depression, language, praise, fluff

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

Why?

Why did everything always happen to you?

Why couldn't you just live an easy life for once?! Why couldn't anything go your way for once?! You screamed at the top of your lungs as you watched your small shabby apartment building burn down to the ground.

It wasn't fair.

What was the point of even living at this point? You had no family to go back to. No home to live at and no friends to crash with. Your job was absolute dog shit and you barely made enough to afford the apartment that just got destroyed.

Everything you owned was gone. Everything that you had was gone. All you had left were the clothes on your back. Like that was enough to survive these streets.

As much as you thought about the sweet embrace of death, you also feared it. You still wanted to live and there were still things you wanted to do. Cussing under your breathe, you decided to turn to a life of crime. How else were you going to build yourself back up?

At least you were until you got caught.

Not even on your third night of stealing, you got webbed up by the one and only, Spiderman. You tried your best not to cry because this was all you had left. You were going to steal to try and better your life and now you couldn't.

"Alright, want me to drop you off at the station or have them find you here?" Spiderman asked with a bit of sarcasm in his tone. You sniffed, unable to hold back,

"Just kill me," You begged.

--------

Miguel flinched at your request. You were sincere. Normally his enemies said that just to trick him or have him pity them, but not you. Miguel could sense how true you meant those words and how hurt you were.

"C'mon," He sighed.

Miguel had no choice but to take pity on you. How could you leave you to rot in a cell if you were going to kill yourself? It wouldn't be heroic of him to do so. That and Miguel would probably eat himself alive at the thought of you being dead because of him.

Instead, Miguel was going to take a different approach with you. You seemed harmless enough, that and you were clumsy. Obviously, you had never stolen anything before and it showed.

Watching you follow him defeated, Miguel let out another sigh. He picked you up and threw you over his shoulder before swinging off. You weren't even complaining, just whimpering and sniffling. Honestly, Miguel might have to put this in the list of saddest captures.

By the time he reached HQ, Miguel made sure to use a secret entrance. He informed Lyla to keep everyone out of his office as he brought you inside. It was fair to say that you looked confused, yet amazed.

"This is the Spider Society, it's where every Spiderman and woman from every universe come to help stop a common goal."

"Common goal?" You whispered, taking in the scenery of the city from a large window. Miguel brought you attention back to him,

"Classified. Think of it as a hang out," He said instead and motioned you to follow him, "I will allow you to stay here under certain conditions."

------

Was this really going to be your second chance at life? Who would have thought Spiderman was this generous to someone like you? You had expected him to just toss you in jail since you've never actually seen the hero kill anyone.

You were ready to die.

Listening to all of Spiderman's conditions, you just agreed. What other choice was there? At least he was giving you a place to stay, even if you were going to be watched the whole time.

"I'll check up on you every day to see how you're keeping." Spiderman added as he showed you a room. You just furrowed your brows, avoiding tears,

"Why are you doing so much for me? You just met me..."

"Because I don't want you turning around and killing yourself. It's my job to save people, and that includes you." He said honestly. You nearly shuddered a breathe,

"...Thank you..." Was all you could whisper.

"If you need anything, just call for Lyla and she will inform me of anything you need."

"Thanks...but...how did you know-" You were cut off as Spiderman revealed Lyla and a hologram of your burnt down apartment building, "Wow."

"Just let me know."

Right as Spiderman left, you finally felt the weight of everything come crashing down. You fell on your knees and started sobbing. This was not how you expected the night to go, but honestly, this could be for the best.

Who knows, maybe Spiderman will give you a reason to live after all.

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

You had been staying at the Spider Society for a few weeks now. Spiderman aka Miguel, had been helping you get back on your own two feet. The two of you had been getting comfortable with each other to the point where Miguel revealed his identity.

And lord did you feel like it was love at first sight. You had already started to fall for the masked hero with just his wit and personality alone. It was a great surprise to see that matched with such a handsome face.

The only thing you were worried about was if your feelings were one sided. Miguel always checked up on you, making sure that you weren't still down in the dumps. Honestly, some days you were, but they grew less thanks to him.

Today, you were feeling great. Thanks to Miguel's help, you had gotten a job and finally saved enough for a place of your own again. This time in a better location that won't burn down so easy. There was no need for you to go back to stealing.

"I heard you were apartment hunting?" Miguel questioned as he entered your room. You felt your cheeks flush as you stared at the handsome man,

"Um....Yea...I've done so much better thanks to you."

"Do you not like it here?" Miguel whispered as his eyes soften towards you.

"I do, but...aren't I a burden just being here all the time?"

"No," Miguel sat beside you, glancing at the website you were on, "I just think that it's safer here. I can take care of you...if you don't mind," His voice grew lower as he looked away.

"Miguel..." You felt embarrassed to ask, but hell, he was acting strange as hell too, "Do you want me to stay?"

"..." Miguel stayed quiet for a moment, "Yes."

You couldn't stop your heart from racing as the two of you stayed quiet for a moment. You were shaking from nervousness. Perhaps, Miguel did like you back? Trying to control your breathing, you hesitating grabbed his hand,

"T-Then...I'll stay," You said, nearly stuttering on your words.

Miguel fixed his hand to intertwine with yours. He scooted closer to you and finally faced in your direction. You nearly squeaked, surprised by how close he was.

"(Y/N), you're such a clumsy thief," Miguel said with a sigh as he cupped your cheek and stole your lips with a kiss, "But, you're my thief...If you'd let me have you."

"Yes." You said so fast with no hesitation. Rolling your lips inward, you watched as Miguel just stared at you before laughing, "W-What I meant was...I-I am totally fine with, garh, stop laughing at me! I'm nervous!"

"Sorry, sorry," Miguel chuckled softly as he stroked your flustered cheeks, "I promise to take good care of you, (Y/N)."

You huffed your cheeks out slightly, "How on earth can I take care of the one and only Spiderman? This seems a little unfair." You said with a whine. Miguel chuckled once more,

"Just...be there for me like you always are,"

Confused, you went to look at Miguel, but he stole your lips again in another kiss. You closed your eyes, melting into the kiss before Miguel had to break it due to an anomaly. He let out a heavy sigh and stood,

"Dinner?"

"By the beach?"

"That place is so greasy," Miguel grumbled. You just grinned from ear to ear,

"I'll be ready when you get back."

"It's a date then."

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AGAIN SO SORRY THIS WAS LATE!!! I'M TRYING TO COMPLETE THE REMAINING REQUESTS I HAD LEFT!!!!!

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel x reader

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liyawritesss · 1 year ago

Text

ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ!ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ ᴍᴏʀᴀʟᴇꜱ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ...

Characters: College!Spider-Verse!Miles Morales

Type: headcanons

Synopsis: What would it be like to hold the heart of Brooklyn’s very own Spiderman? Is it an exhilarating tale for the ages, or do things crash and burn before the romance even begins?

Warnings: Some cursing but that’s about it

A/N: Think of this as a part 2 to my original college!miles morales headcanons. Very sweet and cute, with Miles being a dork even in his young adult years.

Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @pantherheart @marsfunzon22 @briology @honeybleed

As said previously in my general college!miles headcanons, I doubt that he’s that invested in dating and pursuing a love life while at school in jersey. So I feel like it’s likely he’ll meet his partner when he travels back home for vacations, weekend trips, etc, as its somewhere he feels more at ease to be himself.

I like the idea of Miles bumping into the attractive person at the Lenny’s Bodega he normally buys his Jamaican Beef Patties from, in a very cheesy and cliche situation where there’s only one left in stock when the both of you reach for it….and Miles being the gentleman he is, would let you have it (also bc there’s a massive fight happening outside and he’s got a suit up real quick, but you don’t question just how frantic he is when leaving the store)

After that Miles tries his hardest to see you again, making up the lamest excuses to head to the corner store. Mama Rio’s out of milk? He’s already bolting out the door. Catching up with dad while he’s on patrol and Jeff mentions he’s a tiny bit hungry? No problem Pops, I got it. And lord knows that boy do not need to go on that many ‘snack runs’ with how skinny and lanky he is, cuz he not gaining nothin’

Though at some point he does run into you again, and he’s able to engage a conversation by the fact that there’s more beef patties in stock so both of you guys can get one. It’s a cheesy joke but it works, cuz when you laugh a little it gives him a major confidence boost

Of course, Mama Rio peeps that somethings up with her son when he comes home with an extra pep in his step. But just because he’s an adult now doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have grounds to tease him. “Did you meet someone today? A girl? Or….. a guy?” She absolutely lives for seeing her son happy and giddy.

It starts just as casual texting, sending tiktoks back and forth and sending casual check-ins. Over time it evolves into meetups, hangouts, facetime calls. And originally Miles is just like “they’re attractive and cool asf” and is perfectly fine with a friendship. It’s been a long time since he’s had a genuine one (in reference to the events of ATSV), and more than anything, just wants someone he can be real with.

But even he can’t fight the realization that at some point throughout your friendship, his perspective of you shifted from platonic to romantic. Miles started to notice little things about you that would make his heart stall in his chest or his stomach flip around with butterflies. Noticing a new fragrance you’ve bought, or a change in your usual hair style, or being more in tune with your emotions than even you are.

So it begs to question; when would Miles say anything about his budding feelings? Well…he probably won’t say much of anything at first. If anything he tries to bury them because he doesn’t wanna ruin the one good friendship he’s been able to maintain since he was a teen. But his changes in behavior don’t go unnoticed by you, and for a while, the two of you walk this thin line of “will they-wont they” until you ultimately bring the conversation up

You go on a couple of dates, have a couple of conversations about what would be expected in a relationship with the both of you, and with your talks Miles slowly but surely begins to gather the courage he needs to be firm with his desires for you…which comes in the form of a kiss underneath the stars while stargazing on the rooftop of his brownstone building.

In the beginning, he’s still kind of skittish, he doesn’t wanna do anything wrong ruin what you two have, and there’s a lot of reassurance that goes into play during the first few months of you two dating (on both ends, really). But once he’s comfortable and you two are really set in…good luck tryna get rid of him

Clingy clingy clingy clingy clingy- loves cuddles, hugs, kisses- is definitely a “where my hug at” typa nigga, and will immediately get grumpy if you dont give him a greeting kiss. Always has a hand on you, whether it be on your back, in your hand, on your thigh- he just needs to physically feel you to ease his mind sometimes.

He draws portraits of you and leaves them in your bedroom or his to find. He also likes when you give him feedback and praise for his drawings because they make him feel really good about them. He always jokes about how you change your hair so much, it’s hard for him to nail down certain hair types and protective styles that you wear.

When he’s home for summer break, your parents can’t and will never stop you two from sneaking into each other’s rooms through the fire escape. They just expect to come into your rooms and find the two of you cuddled up together, with blankets lazily thrown over your bodies. But it also gives them plenty of pictures to blackmail the both of you with. (Jefferson is notorious for picking on his son for clinging onto you like how he used to cling onto Rio’s arm as a baby when he slept. Miles will never know peace in his own house.)

If you have your own apartment, Rio has to beg this boy to come home, and constantly makes jokes about him moving in with you since he spends so much time at your place anyway.

When he’s away at school, he calls you three times a day - one in the morning so that you two can wake up and get ready together, one in the afternoon when he’s in between classes and while you’re either in between classes or on lunch at your job, and once in the evening so you two can unwind and fall asleep together on the phone for the process to be repeated again.

He likes to speak random sentences in Spanish and watch your face contort in confusion. In the scenario that you don’t know or understand the language, you’ll ask him what he said, but he’s so difficult with it, he lets you beg until you ultimately give up, and whispers it in your ear while giving you a back hug. It turns out to be something cheesy as hell, but you love it either way.

If you do understand/know the language, you look at him like he’s grown two heads and question what it is he’s even saying, because in this scenario he’ll say the most random and out of pocket shit just to annoy you. Though you forgive him in the end because he honestly sounds so good when he’s speaking his mother’s tongue.

Dating Miles also means sharing him with Brooklyn, and subsequently New York in general, when it comes to his Spiderman duties. If you can hold him down even though he can’t guarantee being a constant presence for you, you’ll make him fall harder than he originally had. If you love him unconditionally, even if the nights where he comes to you, battered, bruised and exhausted; even when he has to cancel dates or disappear in the middle of a phone conversation; or there are certain things he can’t tell you because of his superhero occupation - the one thing Miles will always promise you is that he’ll come back to you every single time. And that's more than enough for the both of you.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

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sarawritestories · 10 months ago

Note

I'd love to know more about Unwavering Presence!

@hellodarling1357 a sneak peek of this Cassian series awaits!

Unwavering Presence is a slow-burn Cassian x Archeron Sister (Reader) romance that will have many parts if I have anything to say about it. Y/N is Feyre's twin who ends up going to the Night Court and falling in love with our General of the Night Court. This will follow their love story from her perspective and how she finds his presence as something unwavering even in the darkest of times and it is going to get angsty.

And here is a Sneak peek that will take place in the middle of our story(and will probably be changed by the time we get there) but shows how I want to put a spotlight on his Loyalty and love for the people he is close with:

The sunrise was shimmering over Velaris another day had gone by. Sitting in the armchair looking out through the window I was beginning to lose track of the days. This body was new to me and all the heightened senses that came with it. Now that I was able to use them I could only muster up enough energy to get out of bed and on this chair. At least my room had a beautiful view of the city proof that things could still be beautiful.

There was a crash followed by yelling outside of my door that caused my whole body to tense and my eyes to squeeze shut. The shouts were growing louder and a whimper escaped my lips as I covered my now-pointed ears. The door slams open and I open my eyes in time to see Cassian shutting the door and putting a chair under the knob preventing, Feyre and Rhys, whose voices were now carrying down the hall, from coming in.

Cassian slowly took a step into the room his face pained, "Princess, I'm not going to hurt you." I slowly lowered my hands and wrapped them around my knees as he took another step. I averted his gaze held worry and looked out over the city hoping the tears would swallow back down. His voice was closer, "They wouldn't let me see you. They said you had asked them to keep me away."

A tear escaped as he took the seat next to mine. I turned my head so he wouldn't see the tears falling. I closed my eyes but his presence wrapped me in a warm embrace that made me want to fall apart. The pounding on the other side of the door subsided but I knew they were on the other side one word and they would throw Cassian out with no hesitation.

"Y/N please look at me." His plea came out as a choked sob. I lifted my head turning to face him and I took a sharp intake of breath as tears streamed down his face. His Hazel eyes met mine and he straightened in his seat and tried to compose himself and gave you a small smile reaching out his hand not touching me but to let me know I could take it if I wanted. "There's my brave girl."

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach at the sentiment, I cleared my throat, "Hi."

Cassian lit up at the sound of my voice, "We don't have to talk about what happened. I just wanted to see you." I looked at his outstretched hand, "They wouldn't even let me ask about you, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

I absentmindedly slid my hand into his and I could feel him still for a moment before his fingers gripped my hand, as though I could disappear at any moment. "I don't think I could talk if I wanted to, Cas," I whisper as my gaze moves from his face back to the city.

Cassian hummed in response and I could feel his eyes lingering. His finger tapped against the top of my hand. He did it once more, then twice, three times until I looked at our intertwined hands. "You don't need to say anything, Sweetheart, not until you are ready." My eyes met his and he gave me another warm smile that caused the butterflies to stir again. "But don't push me away. We can do a daily check-in no words necessary." He holds up our hands and he taps once on the top of my hand, "One tap is 'How are you doing?'" He taps twice on the top of my hand, "Two taps is 'I'm not okay I need you close,'" He taps 3 times, "Three will be 'I'm not okay but you can go'," he taps 4 times, "Four will be 'I'm okay but I would like you near'". He taps my hand 5 times, "Five taps will mean 'I'm okay you can go'," He taps my hand 6 times.

Tears threaten to escape as I whisper, "What does six taps mean?"

He grips my chin and has me look up at him. "Six means, 'I'm here. I'm with you. You are not alone.'"

Tears freefall down my cheeks as he swipes them with the pad of his thumb, as I look back out of the city gripping his hand in mine.

We sit in silence for a few moments before I adjust my hand and tap his hand twice. I'm not okay, I need you close.

He taps my hand six times, I'm here. I'm with you. You are not alone.

#cassian acotar #cassian x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian x you

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verai-marcel · 1 year ago

Text

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 1 of 27)

Summary: Not every adventurer wields a weapon. You, a hearth witch living near the banks of River Chionthar, are witness to a craft falling from the sky, and wondering if anyone needed assistance, ran down to find survivors. That was your first mistake. Going along with the survivors on their crazy adventure? That was your second mistake. Will you survive your next mistake of letting a hungry vampire bite you?

Author’s Notes: Full disclosure: at this point, I’ve only played through act 2 without romancing Astarion. So why the fuck am I writing some wholesome Astarion x F!Reader? Because I’m dumb and got spoiled on Youtube, and now I can’t stop thinking about the poor guy. Also this is heavily influenced by a couple of wholesome manga (“Life in Another World as a Housekeeping Mage” and “The Forsaken Saintess and her Foodie Roadtrip in Another World”), but I won’t be writing an isekai. You (reader) are from Faerun like everyone else. I’m just here to have some wholesome feels and hurt/comfort. Let’s go go go.

Tags: wholesome, cozy camp time, Astarion x F!Reader, slow burn, good alignment, BG3 Spoilers

Chapter Word Count: 1,843

Ao3 Link here, Darling.

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

Act I, Chapter 1 - The Beginning

You are a hearth witch, living on the banks of the River Chionthar, making potions and herbal remedies for the small villages nearby. For the past three years, you’d been happier than you’d ever been in your life. You loved helping people, but you made sure not to reveal your real name, nor why you always wore long sleeves and gloves, even in the middle of summer.

But the nearby villages had been emptying as of late. News of the goblin camp that recently appeared nearby had first scared off the traveling merchants, and then the locals. You realized that you too should leave, otherwise you’d either have no more customers or goblins on your doorstep. You only had a dagger and a few spells that did little in ways of actual damage, so defending yourself against a horde of enemies was out of the question. So you began to pack up, figuring out what you could bring with you, and what needed to be repurchased once you reached your new home, wherever that might be.

On a warm sunny day, you decided that this would be your last day here. Your pack was filled, your cottage cleaned out. Tomorrow morning, you would take off to the east, following the river to the next closest town. For now, you decided to grab a few more ingredients for the road, and so, you were out by the river bank, gathering fresh herbs and mushrooms.

A booming sound followed a strong gust of wind that whipped around you, twigs and grass flying everywhere. Then you saw a ship crash nearby, the land and water being torn asunder, debris flung in all directions. After the chaos died down a bit, you went to go check for survivors. You couldn’t, in good conscience, walk away if someone might need help.

That was a poor decision on your part.

The first survivor you found was a young, dark-haired woman, passed out on the shore. She seemed standoffish, but after helping her up and giving her a drink from your waterskin, you convinced her that the best thing to do was to get out of the area and rest at your cottage while she regained her bearings.

A little while later, the two of you came upon the strange sight of a single arm, sticking out of a glowing purple rune. You and the young woman, Shadowheart, pulled the poor man out. He introduced himself as Gale, and also joined your party.

As the three of you continued back to your cottage, you came across another stranger. Skin as pale as marble and hair to match. Had some scars on his neck. Perhaps he got them on the ship? He seemed harmless enough. Another escapee of the craft that fell from the sky.

That is, until he tricked you into looking for something in the bushes.

If only he hadn’t touched your exposed neck with his bare hand. Then you wouldn’t have felt the fear, underlined by a desperation you knew all too well.

The leash is cut.

It made you empathize. And that was one rule that had been burned into your mind at a young age.

Do not empathize with the enemy.

Fortunately, Gale and Shadowheart talked him down from stabbing you. The man even apologized to you, though it seemed more for show than for sincerity.

Astarion was his name. He introduced himself with aplomb and decorum, and your hackles raised at the sight. A noble.

After a bit more conversation, they agreed that their shared affliction was enough of a reason to travel together and find a cure.

Swallowing down your general prejudice against nobles, you ignored him and made small talk with the others as you led them back to your cottage.

***

Your cottage had only one room, enough space for your bed, some storage for herbs and tools, and a work table for your alchemy. Most of your things were packed, but you pulled out enough to take care of your guests.

The yard to the side of the building was set up as a small campground for travelers to rest. You had figured out a couple years ago that for a small fee, traveling merchants would gladly rest on your land where it was safe, while you made them fresh, nourishing meals and cast spells on their bedrolls to make them feel warm and comfortable. You even managed to get a small tub built in the back to provide a warm bath for an extra fee.

It had been a lucrative idea, one that made you enough money to be quite comfortable out here in the sticks.

You may only know a few cantrips, but you had manipulated them beyond what most people did. Your mending cantrip could fix whole swaths of cloth, your prestidigitation cantrip could keep bedrolls warm all night, or baths hot for hours. It was why you had several repeat customers, traveling merchants who would alter their routes to come to your place to rest.

You told them of the surrounding area and cooked a meal for them, a simple stew with seasonal vegetables and herbs.

The noble said he wasn’t hungry. You supposed your poor peasant food wasn’t to his taste.

He can suit himself.

While the others were eating, you set up the campground. While you were quietly casting the comfort cantrip on each bedroll, you sensed someone watching you.

“Yes?” you asked, biting the inside of your mouth to keep from being snippy.

Astarion stepped closer to you. He remained standing, looking down on your kneeling form. “What an interesting way to use prestidigitation.”

You shrugged. You had nothing to say to a noble. You finished your spell and started to shuffle over to the next bedroll, but he remained standing in your way.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all, darling.” He didn’t budge.

You let out a short huff and crawled around him. One bedroll left. Ignoring the man, you began the cantrip.

By the time you finished, you looked up to see all three of them watching you.

“What?” you asked, a little disturbed by the attention.

“I hadn’t thought to use that cantrip like this before,” Gale said as he knelt down to touch the bedroll. “How long does it last?”

“All night,” you responded, feeling a little proud of yourself.

Shadowheart was already crawling into the bedroll. “This feels amazing.” She buried herself into the cloth. “It feels like I’m sleeping on a warm cloud.”

Gale shrugged and followed suit. “Gods, you’re right.” He sat up and looked at you. “I don’t know how you manipulated that spell, but it’s absolutely brilliant.”

You felt a zing of joy. Your little custom cantrip impressed a wizard!

The noble watched you for a few more moments before he too, crawled into a bedroll. His eyes widened slightly. “Oh. My, this is rather comfortable.”

You jutted out your chin, but refrained from being too catty about it. Instead, you switched to being polite.

“Sweet dreams,” you said to everyone, and went about cleaning up around camp. By the time you were done, the three of them were fast asleep.

***

The motley crew thanked you and took off in the morning to explore the area, seemingly never to return.

You looked around at your unpacked things, and decided that it wouldn’t hurt to start off tomorrow morning instead.

Your plans were sidetracked once more, however, when the group returned that evening with a fourth member, grouchy and prickly as a threatened porcupine. After a couple of bowls of your herbal soup, she became a little bit less prickly. Lae'zel was her name, and she punctuated her Common speech with her Githyanki tongue. You found it a bit endearing, the way one finds a stray animal that always hisses at you endearing.

You cast a warming spell on their bed rolls once more, burned incense to keep the insects away, and made sure they were all comfortable in your little camp area outside of your cottage before going to bed.

The next morning, you got up early to make breakfast for them before they left to explore the ruins that they had found the day before. As you checked your rabbit traps, you noticed one of them was tripped, but the rabbit within was a mere husk, as if it had been dehydrated.

Curious.

You reset your trap and returned to camp.

“What’s that?” Shadowheart asked when she saw the husk of a corpse in your hand.

“A dried up rabbit.”

“That doesn’t sound appetizing,” Lae’zel remarked.

You shrugged. “I can at least sell the pelt later. Sorry, you’ll have to make do with another vegetable stew tonight.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “That is, if you’re coming back here.”

The four adventurers looked at each other.

“I think we’ve taken advantage of your hospitality long enough,” Gale said. We’ll start heading west from here.”

***

The group had finally left, and you had finished packing. You had been delayed by their arrival, but no longer. They truly seemed gone now, with the sun setting and no sign of their return. Tomorrow for sure. Tomorrow, early in the morning, you would set off—

You heard your name being called. Off in the distance, you could see Gale, waving sheepishly at you, followed by the others.

You sighed. Biting back your annoyance, you smiled and waved back. A customer was a customer. At least this group was entertaining, and quite generous with their gold. And this time, they brought you back some boar meat.

There was one new face, a man with a stone eye. He introduced himself as the Blade of the Frontiers, Wyll. He seemed nice, charismatic even. Someone who had the manners of a noble but the heart of a commoner.

They set up camp once more in your yard, and you unpacked just enough of your supplies to make them a meal.

"You look like you're ready to go on a journey," Gale commented as you all sat around the campfire, eating a boar roast with herbed potatoes.

"I'm moving. Many people have moved away because of the increase in goblins in the area, and a lot of my business has dried up. And having goblins this close doesn't make me feel all too safe."

“Any plans on where?”

You shrugged. “Not really. I was just going to travel until I found a place to settle.”

"Well, why don't you come with us?"

Everyone looked at Gale in shock, but then they all looked at you.

"You do make camp much more comfortable," Shadowheart finally said.

“And one of us would be standing guard at camp as well, so you would be safe,” Wyll added.

You saw no reason to decline. You liked most of them, save for one snotty noble. A constant flow of income would be nice, for once. You negotiated a decent wage and agreed to head out with them at first light.

That, dear hearth witch, was your second poor decision.

--------

Chapter End Notes:

Yeah, I basically made up a “hearth witch” class as a combo of druid, wizard, and cleric, but hey, welcome to Dungeons & Dragons, where homebrew classes happen all the time. Hope you enjoyed the fic! I'm actively working on the next chapter!

Update 4/4/24: All chapters are here!

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion #astarion x F!Reader #slow burn #female reader #baldur's gate 3 #your hearth is my home

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yellowkitkieran · 11 months ago

Text

To Have and to Heal (Part 15)

Masterlist

Read part 1 here

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Single working dad Martin Odegaard is navigating the ups and downs of parenthood all on his own, and he’s struggling. That’s not to mention football, life and... love?

Could we talk?

When your message appears on his phone, Martin doesn't believe his eyes. At first he assumes he is dreaming; a quick pinch to his forearm and the subsequent brief burst of pain confirms he is, indeed, awake. He laughs to himself then, a giddy, overjoyed sound as he reads the message from you again and again, enough times that the words are burned into his eyelids when he closes them.

Rearranging his schedule to pick up Atla today had been worth it. Incurring Arteta's wrath for sneaking out early? Also very, very worth the reward. Even if nothing comes of it, even if you don't have the courage or wherewithal to send him a follow up response, Martin can live with that, as long as he has some closure.

His fingers shake as he types out a casual, cool, collected response. Of course! Now? Tomorrow? When are you thinking?

Nailed it, honestly. Not overly eager. Simple and to the point. Leaves nothing up to interpretation. Martin is still sweating bullets regardless.

For a few minutes, Martin simply stares at his phone until his eyes water and he is forced to blink some moisture into them. He tries not to fret when you don't immediately reply. It's late; there is a good chance you're either sleeping or prepping for your classes tomorrow. Despite his racing heart, sweating palms and pacing feet, Martin somehow convinces himself that he is perfectly calm. He's definitely not freaking out. Nope. He's fine. Toooootally fine.

Though that fragile construct comes crashing down when Martin's phone vibrates. Whenever you have an hour or so free? After school of course. I can come to you?

Absolutely. Friday? I'll be done at six. But I'll come to you though.

Martin immediately arranges for Kieran to take Atla overnight as a precaution. Who knows what might happen? Martin doesn't want to get his hopes up, but regardless of how things go, he knows he will be a volatile bucket of emotions and he'll need some time to process. He would rather do that on his own than have his daughter around to witness it. Good or bad, Friday will be… interesting, to say the least.

Friday at six thirty then. That works. I'll see you then

The expectation of hearing from you again is dashed when twenty four hours pass with nothing new. Martin's phone is far from quiet thanks to the Arsenal group chat, which thankfully keeps him busy and occupied on his day off whilst Atla is at school. Martin even arranges to pick Atla up himself, though he's disappointed to find another teacher in charge of after school care instead of you.

Tomorrow, he tells himself. Tomorrow is my second chance.

And Martin is completely, utterly, wholly determined to grab the opportunity with both hands and run with it. He refuses to squander his relationship with you a second time. He will say all the right things, fall over himself to make all the right promises, and follow through with each one of them. Because if Martin is being honest with himself, the last time he felt about someone like this… He married them.

On his way into Colney the next morning, Martin passes by Atla’s favorite bookshop. It is a quaint, family owned place located on a busy corner in north London. He glances at their window displays when he is stopped at the light, as he often does.

And Martin does a double take- the sign in the window promotes a new romance book, titled ‘Second Chances Only Come Once’, written by the author of the hit book ‘She’s the One’.

The grin plastered on Martin’s face is indicative enough. If he had been waiting for a sign, that would be it. The sky over London is a bright, vibrant orange, streaked through with rich reds and subtle yellows. The sunrise is the exact shade of Maria’s favorite paint- Windsor Orange, a color she claimed felt like home. Each Christmas Martin would buy her a year’s supply to ensure she didn’t run out.

“Thank you,” Martin murmurs to the sky. A light breeze ruffles his hair through the open car window, and the smile does not leave Martin’s face for the entire drive.

Kieran doesn't ask questions at training that morning- he's simply excited to spend some quality time with his goddaughter. Kieran does not question Martin’s good mood, not even when Martin convinces Arteta to go easy on the team and skip the half dozen extra drills he had scheduled and opt for an extra gym session instead.

Martin pays very little attention whilst Kieran rattles off a long list of things he's planned to entertain Atla, including a trip to Harrods to spoil her rotten. Normally that sort of thing would irk Martin, but today the thought barely registers.

“Uh huh, sounds great,” Martin murmurs noncommittally, “Perfect. Atla will love it.”

“Mate, you've not heard a word I've said. You're fine with me taking her on a shopping spree? You normally yell at me for that! What happened to ‘she's got enough toys,’ eh?” Kieran makes air quotes there, referring to the dozens of times Martin has argued that point. That, at least, causes Martin to pause.

“What? Oh- I mean sure if that's what you want to do with her I won't stop you, she'll enjoy it. Really she will-”

Kieran sets his weight down and rests his elbows on his knees. Everyone always says that blue eyes are unnerving, but Martin knows the truth- it's the unflinching, hard brown eyes that really do you in. Martin clears his throat, squirming under the pressure of Kieran's stare. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what? There's nothing to tell.” Martin scarcely believes himself as unconvincing as his words are. Kieran simply blinks, which somehow is even more unnerving than the original stare. Martin sighs, knowing his friend will not let up until he uncovers the truth. “Alright fine- I'm talking to solskin tonight. It's not a big deal!”

Kieran, knowing better than to pry, simply nods firmly. “Good. Maybe you'll quit moping around the grounds then. Honestly it's getting tiring, carrying this entire team on my shoulders. I cannae do it all on my own, you know.”

Martin cracks a grin, “I know mate. Hopefully after tomorrow I can take some of that pressure off you.”

*********

Martin, Martin, Martin. For nearly forty eight full hours, the Norwegian midfielder fills every corner of your brain. You're barely able to make it through your lessons, as distracted as you are by the thought of seeing him again. In a private setting. Alone. At your house.

Why did you agree to this again?

Friday evening, you frantically clean your already clean flat. You agonize over whether or not to leave the blanket slung over the sofa- is it too suggestive? Or is it just cosy? You wind up leaving it. You are fully aware that you are overthinking. That doesn’t stop you from rearranging the shoes in the entry three times until you’re positive they are just the right amount of messy.

Deciding on an outfit is nearly as chaotic- with Jen's help you settle on comfort over chic, opting for your favorite pair of jeans and a loose, warm sweater. Your hair you leave in your usual style, not putting too much effort in. This is not a date, as you have to continually remind yourself. It is simply a chat, nothing more.

Waiting is the hardest part. You sit on your sofa with a random show on for background noise, something about the history of the crown jewels. Should you have cooked? Six thirty is dinner time, ish- maybe he's expecting a meal? Oh god-

The doorbell interrupts your thoughts and you spring into action. You wipe your palms on your jeans before opening the front door, pasting a smile on your face that you pray appears genuine. Your eyes start at his feet- black and white Nike dunks, light wash jeans, and a black bomber style jacket- and end on his soft, angelic face. You quickly meet his eyes, lasting all of one second under the gentle scrutiny of his baby blues before heat floods your cheeks and you are forced to look away.

“Hey- hi Mr. Ødegaard, please come in.”

Martin's hands slide into his pockets, thumbs hooked into his belt loops. “I'm not coming in until you drop the formality, solskin.”

You swear your very soul responds to the nickname. It glides so easily off his tongue, as though no time has passed despite the cold shoulder you have given him. With one sentence, Martin crosses the chasm between the pair of you without a second thought, throwing you a lifeline to cling to whilst you try to wade through the sea of emotions that threatens to overwhelm your good sense.

“Okay,” you murmur, “Okay. Please come in, Martin.”

“Mar,” he corrects softly, tipping his head to meet your downcast eyes. “Please call me Mar.”

Only when you nod in agreement does he finally relent and enter. He bends to untie his shoes and hangs his jacket on the hook behind the door. There is a familiarity in his actions, like he has done this a hundred times instead of being able to count the number of occurrences on one hand.

“Um, please have a seat,” you say around the bile creeping up your throat. You haven't been this nervous since your first day teaching. It feels as if one wrong move will leech away the confidence you've spent ages rebuilding; brick by brick you've had to remind yourself that you deserve this. One step at a time.

“Thank you.” Martin makes himself comfortable on the sofa, one arm slung over the back. It strikes you then how well he fits in. Despite his undoubtedly expensive clothes, he does not seem out of place in a room filled with mostly second hand things. The cream of his shirt perfectly matches the blanket you worried over earlier. If you didn't know any better, you'd assume they were cut from the same cloth.

You clear your throat and carefully perch on the opposite side. You smooth the wrinkles from your sweater, suddenly self conscious of your appearance. Shit, you forgot to offer him a drink!

“Would you uh- would you like a drink? There's water, soda, uh… milk I think?”

Martin's smile is like a physical caress, calming your nerves. Whether he realizes it or not is uncertain, “I'm alright for now, thank you solskin. You wanted to talk?”

How is he so calm right now? How are you not calm? You're the one that asked for this. You prepared, didn't you? Spent hours on the phone with Jess last night, coming up with bullet points of what needed to be said. How have you suddenly forgotten it all?

“Solskin,” Martin prompts softly. “Hey? I'm perfectly okay sitting in silence but if you have something to say, I want to make sure you're heard.”

“Stop- just stop being so charming for two minutes,” you mumble. You press two fingers to your temples and try to get your ducks in a row. You requested to speak with Martin, yes. You wanted to discuss the potential of moving forward. You wanted to tell him you still care about him. Okay. Okay. Basics first.

You take a deep breath and straighten your spine. Cheating your body towards Martin's you begin, “I still care about you a lot. More than I should considering you're the parent of one of my students- don't do that,” you scold when Martin tips his head side to side. Martin grins, forcing you to fight to keep your mental train on the right track. “As I was saying, you're the parent to one of my students and I shouldn't even have asked to speak with you. I should've taken what happened as a sign from the universe, an easy way out but I just…”

“Can't let it end, yeah.” Martin finishes the thought on your behalf. You nod, grateful that he was able to voice it when you couldn't.

“Right. But I also know that your daughter has to come first, and I don't want to suggest otherwise. Atla loves you and you're all she has, I know she looks up to her papa. I know she doesn't want to see you with anyone other than her mum, and maybe she's just too young to understand, which means this was all just a waste of time and ishouldn'thaveinvitedyouanyway-”

Your words rush out in one long heap, piling over each other and overlapping at the ends. Tears prick your eyes and suddenly you feel so incredibly stupid for thinking this could work in any capacity. Martin reaches for your hand but you pull it away, unable to bear the thought of him touching you, knowing you'll only crumble.

“I want this to work Mar, I really do. But I can't ask you to choose between me and your family, it's not right. I don't want to sneak around either,” you add in haste when Martin opens his mouth. “I won't be the reason your daughter hates you. I won't tear apart your home. I just won't. I wouldn't be able to live with myself.”

Once he's positive you're finished, Martin cautiously scoots closer to you. He watches for any sign that you'll flee, and when you don't move a muscle he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you to his chest. This time you allow it, because you know you'll never have this luxury again.

Martin's hand runs over your arm whilst he silently soothes you. Your nose is buried in his shoulder, his cologne imprinting itself in your memory. It baffles you how such a simple thing can bring you so much comfort. But slowly, like molasses dripping from a spile, you feel the coils of tension stored in your muscles unknot themselves. Slowly, you feel yourself winding down, your breath coming in even intervals instead of panicked gasps. Your hands, which had fisted themselves tight in the cotton of his shirt, unfurl to rest flat on his chest.

“That speech was quite noble solskin, but I think you've forgotten something.”

You sniffle, determined not to cry despite the battle raging within yourself. “What did I forget Mar?”

“That you're part of my home now,” Martin says into your hair. “If you're determined not to let anything ruin my home, you need to include yourself in that.”

Martin is terrible at articulating how he feels. You've grown used to it; you may not have dated for long but it only took a handful of dates to realize that his trauma ran deep, and that he played his cards close to his chest. So that display of warmth, of what he truly feels inside, is rarer than a diamond. You want to nestle it against your heart and keep it protected behind your ribcage. It is worth more than any precious gem.

Without thinking, you reach up and cradle Martin's jaw. You smile sadly when he presses his cheek into your hand, your thumb soothing a line under his eye. He's so beautiful- tender and raw and open. Vulnerable. A side you never expected him to share with you.

“I don't want you to put me before Atla,” you say softly, mindful of how fragile he is beneath your fingertips. You have to be gentle; if you're not he may never trust anyone again.

Martin covers your hand, fingers tight around yours. “And I don't want that either. I want you both on the same level. I-” Martin stops himself, his throat bobbing under the weight of words left unsaid. “I care about you so, so much. I just want you in my life. That’s all I want.”

“Then Alta needs to understand that I'm not replacing her mum. She needs to understand that before we even think about doing anything, Mar. You can't risk hurting the relationship you have with your daughter.”

“I know. I will. I'll get it all sorted and then it'll be fine- we can try again. Right?”

You nod then, your smile brighter this time. “Once she knows all that, we can try again.”

Martin's eyes flick to your mouth and you know you've both had the same thought. You want to kiss him, to climb into his lap and melt like chocolate on his tongue. You want to pull at his stupid chicken hair until he moans into your mouth, his sounds of delight so sickeningly sweet that your stomach will ache for days afterwards.

But you can't kiss him. So you don't. At least you have that much control. Instead you let Martin trace your parted lips with a reverence that makes your skin tingle. He moves on to your jaw, your cheeks, your nose, your brow- as if he were a blind man putting a face to a woman who until now has been no more than a voice to him.

“I have so much to say,” Martin says finally, “and there's not enough time to say any of it.”

“One day soon, you'll have plenty of time to tell me anything you want.” You allow yourself the luxury of his embrace, your arms winding around his solid middle whilst his fit firmly around your shoulders.

If you're lucky, this could be your reality. You could come home to Martin, or rather he could come home to you, and have his busy days be endcapped by love and devotion. You've always said you would never consider being a housewife, that you respect yourself far too much to allow yourself to be reduced to a servant to your significant other. But for Martin? You want him to eat a home cooked meal every night. You want to massage his shoulders when he makes an off-hand comment about being sore from training too hard. You want to put Atla to bed and then draw a warm bath for you and Martin to share.

You want to give Martin the world because he deserves it. You would wait on him hand and foot because you know with absolute certainty that he would do the exact same thing whenever he was afforded the chance. And that sort of fairytale is exactly what you've always wanted in life. You aren't about to let it slip through your fingers.

#martin ødegaard #martin odegaard #martin odegaard fanfiction #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard fanfic #martin odegaard fantasy #martin odegaard fic #arsenal fc #jac writes #alt timeline lover

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treenissanderssidesstuff · 4 months ago

Text

A Herculean Task

Pairing: Prinxiety

Rating: PG 13 for mild violence and swearing

Complete

Summary: What do you do when you're battling with your feelings? Take it to the imagination and battle them for real of course.

Additional Tags: Reconciliation, Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Romance, Mutual Pining, Pining, Light-Hearted, Blood and Injury, Angst with a Happy Ending

“That’s a wrap!” Thomas exclaimed, a big grin on his face as they made just a little more progress towards getting that dang finale out.

Of course they would.

Of course.

Honestly, after the years they’ve spent working it and re-working it, Roman had nearly reached the point of apathy—being that he didn’t care if it got out or not. He was just a bit burned out on the project and needed something to spark that creative life back into his work. For now, he and Remus and the rest of the sides were just doing their best to follow Thomas’ lead and get the project out as soon as they could manage it.

Thomas made the timetable of his work, they were just visitors. Quickly enough, the internet star made his exit, leaving the sides to their own devices while he worked on getting the last shoot wrapped up with his crew. They would only be called back if it was found he needed to quickly re-shoot something before he got out of his costuming.

“Great,” came the slightly throaty tones of the anxious side’s lower pitch.

The sound was enough for Roman to glance over from the corner of his eye to see Virgil pushing up from his seat on the steps before stretching his plush-covered arms up over his head. The prince couldn’t be blamed when he noticed the way that the hoodie’s hem rode slowly upwards and slipped around his torso, leaving a usually baggy tshirt to hug the curve of his hip. At the sound of a crash, his eyes flicked away again to see Patton trying to do a bit of damage control on the smoking TV, where Remus’ morningstar was currently sticking out of the shattered remains of the once pristine screen. Simultaneously, Janus seemed to be giving some quipped deadpan “advice” on what to do to “control” the chaotic side.

“Now Remus, we don’t throw things in this household,” Patton said gently, with a hand on Remus’ shoulder. Remus just snorted at the fatherly attempt. “And yet—” he gestured towards the morningstar before yanking it out from the cracked, glitching TV screen, only to yeet the weapon across the room a second time. Something crashed in the distance and Roman had to wonder if Remus had set up a convenient vase for this particular purpose or if his brother had just carelessly broken one of the few non-plastic dishes that their human owned. “—Alas, I do.”

Patton looked a little helpless at what to do in the situation while Remus cackled.

“Want to see it again?!” Remus asked with an excited glint to his tone that made it obvious he was teasing the paternal side.

“No!” Patton exclaimed.

“No. Stop.” Janus said, staring down at his gloved hand as if he was inspecting his nails. “Remus, that’s terrible. How could you? The injustice.”

“Have you tried dog treats?” Virgil asked, leaning over the banister. “I’ve heard the reinforcement training’s supposed to start early.”

“As if dog treats are worse than some of the things he’s already eaten,” Logan interjected with a scrunch of his nose. “Even recently.”

“There’s nothing wrong with eating leftovers,” Remus defended.

“There is when said leftovers have become their own colony,” Roman replied, remembering the old, moldy mess that Remus had found somehow in the very back corner of the fridge that had somehow been missed in their last clean out.

“Why waste it?” Remus shrugged. “Free penicillin.”

“With a complimentary gravestone,” Logan replied.

Roman didn’t know what it was specifically that tickled him, but from Virgil’s place staring down at the lot of them, watching the interactions between everyone made his violet eyes light up until they truly sparkled. There was a tightness in Virgil’s cheek and it made Roman think that he might have been biting the inside of it to keep from laughing. Though, Roman would have preferred if he’d just let himself laugh openly, it was such an alluring chime of a sound when he did. The prince was certain he could listen to Virgil laugh all day, if he ever let himself.

“Nice!” Remus cheered, getting in on the joke and summoning a shovel in his hand that looked suspiciously freshly-used. “I’m ready.”

“Is it still a criminal offense to chuck the whole side six feet down if he’s this ready and willing?” Virgil asked, a full smile cracking out across his face finally as he couldn’t quite hold down the laughter.

“Better to wait for his own decisions to run their course,” Janus said, winking up at Virgil who gave a little salute in return.

“Early morning burial it is, Dee,” Virgil replied.

Janus looked entirely too pleased when Virgil broke, laughter pealing out from the stormy side as he leaned a little more fully on the banister. A plush-covered arm hugged the light wood just to keep himself up. At the same time, Roman found himself reaching for the wall, just to keep himself equally as steady. It was odd but he suddenly found himself feeling a little weak, like he couldn’t quite hold up his own weight; which was silly, considering he was certain he could pick up anyone else in the room and haul them about without breaking a sweat.

Did he mention the way that Virgil’s entire expression softened just so when he laughed like that?

Roman wanted to reach out and touch him.

He wanted to paint him.

He wanted-

“So we have a plan!” Remus cut through Roman’s thoughts, leaving him reeling as he tried to figure out just what plan his brother was taking about. “Pitterpat, you’re with me~!”

“Wait-!” The heart could hardly react before Remus threw a glittery, ruffle-clad arm around Patton’s back and they both disappeared in an instant.

Roman would have been worried about whatever it was that the intrusive side was up to, except for the fact that Virgil looked mildly amused, at worst. So it couldn’t be anything too terrible, could it? Or was Virgil still mad at Patton and taking an odd glee out of whatever it was that the fatherly side was about to suffer? A glance at Janus’ unreadable expression and Logan’s impassive one told him nothing, especially since both seemed more interested in looking his way. Janus pretended he wasn’t but Roman could see the way that the deceitful side’s irises flitted to the corner of his eyes, keeping a glance in his direction. Meanwhile Logan just stared outright, seemingly unabashedly scrutinizing him.

Rude.

“Whelp, the sun’s still out, meaning I shouldn’t be,” Virgil said, pushing up from his place to rock back onto his heels, looking ready to leave the lot of them behind and Roman at the mercy of whatever it was that the two scholarly sides were plotting. Though, something made Virgil pause as his eye caught Roman’s. “Don’t forget, Hercules tonight, Ro.”

“Technically the Greek figure was Heracles,“ Logan cut in, but Roman rolled his eyes. He said that every time they mentioned the Disney film. They got it.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” the prince said easily when he caught Virgil’s eye again. Roman gave a little nod and he couldn’t help the tug at the corner of his mouth at the thought of their shared time. The collective movie nights had branched out into all sorts of different things to act as inspiration towards their future videos, but both Roman and Virgil had missed their Disney nights, so the duo had taken things into their own hands and started their own little “Cartoony Tuesdays” as their tradition had become affectionately called by the others.

“Get some rest, Virgil,” Janus said, the tiniest bit of lecture to his tone that had Virgil glancing his way.

“Make me,” Virgil replied, amusement saturating his defiant tone, enough so that it was obvious he wasn’t actually offended by the little push from the deceitful side. A second later he sunk away, leaving just three.

The two prim sides immediately shared some kind of glance that didn’t go unnoticed by Roman, as he tried to figure out what unspoken conversation the pair was having, and just what was being spoken when there weren’t other ears to hear it. Before Roman could question them, Janus was gone, disappearing in an instant and Logan took a big step towards him to closing the gap that separated him from the logical side. Logan held up what appeared to be a crisp, freshly-made note-card, something that contrasted against most of his growing deck. They had started to get little bends and worn edges from Logan’s use and study of modern slang.

“What’s this?” Roman asked.

“I believe I’m using this correctly,” Logan said with a little nod as he pressed the card purposefully into Roman’s hand, faced down before sinking away himself.

Roman was left standing there, feeling dumb-founded as he stared at the card that still smelled distinctly of fresh sharpie.

It read: ‘You’ve got it bad!’

To read the rest go to: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57186205

#prinxiety #prinxeity #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #virgil sanders #anxiety #creativity #Reconciliation #Action/Adventure #Adventure #Adventure & Romance #Romance #Mutual Pining #Pining #Light-Hearted #Blood and Injury #Angst with a Happy Ending

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copias-juicebox · 1 year ago

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It's a Sin Chapter 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 Part 4

So this is my small story. I have no idea what i want to do with it but some of you kindly showed some interest in reading this. Special thanks to @thatoddgirl1035 and @unrealistici. So please leave me some comments how you liked it or what i could improve. Feel free to contact me to talk about the plot as well since i have no idea where i wanna go exactly. INSPIRE ME PLEASE. lol

So the Main Idea behind this fic is that reader is the child of the local priest of a christian church. And reader has been raised the old catholic cristian way of course with all it's flaws.

This part is sort of just to set the scene and stage. Reader is still a child here and meets a young copia who at this point is still a Bishop. He is of course quite a bit older here than her so expect an age gap for later chapters as well. Reader will be in their mid 20ies in the fic and copia will be in his 50ies.

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x fem! Reader Words: 3000 something Genre: romance, smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, SLOWBURN Warnings:runaway girl on the loose, explicit languge, violence, abuse, age gap, smut (in the upcoming chapters blabla)

It was a summer night. What started as a beautiful summer day ended up in a cold and wet storm. The heavy rain and thunder that haunted the small town you called your home was rumbling loud and you just ran. You ran as fast and far as you could. Your town was surrounded by mountains and woods. It was a rather small town, one where you rarely ever saw strange faces around the place. You kept running, barefoot in your nightdress. There was no destination you were going and you just let your feet carry you to wherever they liked.

You felt lost. Utterly lost. At this point you could no longer tell if your face was wet because of the rain or your own salty tears. Everything was a blurry mess. You lost every orientation you had. You felt numb, and deaf running, just running until you could no longer. Not even feeling your feet that must have been aching by now. You just did not feel a thing anymore.

It could have been minutes or hours since you‘ve ran from your parents house. You lost every sense of time by now. Only when your lungs burned did you stop. You stood in the middle of the woods by now. Every feeling of guilt, shame and sadness came like a tidal wave, crashing down on you at once. The feelings you tried to suppress for so long now were overwhelming you and all you wanted was to be swallowed by the wet ground you now broke down on. Your silent sobs became louder but there was no one to hear you. Not with the heavy thunderstorm washing down every vibration from the air surrounding you. You curled up on the ground, hugging yourself as you cried out.

From between the branches of the thick treeline a dark figure stared in your direction and found your crumpled form laying on the ground.

„Hello there little one. Are you okay? Are you hurt?“ a soft, deep voice startled you out of your daze. „Oh I am sorry darling, I did not mean to scare you.“ the voice chuckled. You turned around and came to see a man with a strange face kneeling beside you. Your eyes widened and you rubbed your eyes since his face was all blurry.

He had dark circles around his eyes, hair on the sides of his face and a mustache above his lips. It should have scared you but he had a calming aura that put you at ease and you just stared at him with your bloodshot eyes. The stranger smiled softly at you encouraging you to speak. „I.. I am okay.“ you hiccuped, voice small. „Then why are you lying outside in the cold, little one? I don‘t know if you have noticed but it is raining and thundering here and you will catch a cold if you stay here like that, eh?“ the man had said. You stared at the man with big eyes, not knowing what to do so you just stayed still. „Come on now get up. You cannot stay here like that.“ With these words the man extended his hands to you to help you lift you off the ground.

He saw your hesitation and smiled down softly. „I won‘t bite, little one. I swear on the dark one.“ This strange man must be one of the evil people your mother had warned you about. He spoke of the dark one. One of the reasons why you were never allowed near the woods. Because the evil people resided there. In your head many thoughts whirled around. All the bad stories you had heard about these people, doing bad deeds, sinning, sacrificing animals and even humans. It all scared you but yet the man in front of you seemed harmless, offering help even. In fact he was treating you with a kindness you longed for all your life. Against your better judgement you took his hand and let him pull you out of the puddle you sat in. Only then did you realize how bad your feet hurt and how cold it actually was.

„Oh my you are freezing little one. Come on and let me bring you to our ministry. You can have a hot cocoa there. Only if you‘d like that of course yeah? I always find myself feeling much better after a good cup of hot cocoa.“ he said taking off his cloak that he put around your shoulders, wrapping you up in it to keep you from shivering all the time.

He lead you through a smaller passage between the trees and you walked next to the man holding his hand when his voice rang one more time in your ears. „Now would you tell me your name little one?“ It only fueled your internal battle more since you knew you had to be careful. Your parents would probably lock you away in your room for months, making you pray to god for forgiveness. For forgiving you any contact to the evil people from the woods. You were still very young but you were not stupid. „No I cannot tell you my name. You are a stranger and my mama always told me not to trust strangers.“ you tried to sound confident.

The man next to you looked down at you and chuckled. „Ah I see. Well that is not even wrong but tell me why are you accompanying that stranger to a strange place, eh?“ At that you looked down to the ground and stopped walking. The man turned to you and knelt down again. He looked at you with sincerity in his eyes. „You see little one I know you have no reason to trust me and there is nothing I could possibly say that would make you believe me. You are right to be suspicious of strangers for many of them have bad intentions. But we. The place we are going and the people there are not of this kind. I will promise you to bring you back to whereever you want to go or leave you alone should you wish for me to leave you alone. I could even call your parents or the police if you want me to but something is telling me it is probably because of them that you ended up here in the first place?“

You stared down at your feet and kicked a stone to the side of the path. He nailed it. Only a few minutes of talking to this man and he already knew the reason of your flight into the woods: Your parents.

„I see there is truth to what I assumed. Now I am going to ask you again do you want to come inside and warm yourself? I won‘t be mad if you don‘t. But I also want you to know that I will be listening to you if you want to talk.“ he smiled down softly at you easing your nerves a little. Whatever your parents had taught you the man in front of you seemed to be calming you in a way you have never experienced before. It was all very strange especially when he only said so little. „Whatever you decide you should probably hurry. It is not getting any warmer is it?“ he said looking up into the dark clouds. By now he was drenched. Just as you. You decided to trust your gut and took his hand in yours.

The two of you walked a few more meters before you saw it. A huge dark place. Circled by a fence. That must be that „ministry“ he talked about earlier. The house was looming over you. It had an intimidating effect on you, with the dark clouds and occasional lightning striking down. It was massive. The building and the grounds were covering a large area right in the middle of the woods.

He lead you inside where you were met with an odd looking figure. He wore a mask and opened the door for you. When the masked man saw you he looked at you curiously, tilting his head to the side. „Off you go Swiss. Do not scare our little guest now will ya. Oh and start the fire in my office will you?“ the man holding your hand shooed off the masked one. „I apologize for them. They tend to be a little rude sometimes. They are just not good with human interactions. Now let us go to my office. You need to dry and get your cocoa." He said leading you down the hallway, to where the masked one hurried off to.

He turned a few corridors and opened a big door to a big office space. Stepping inside you saw the man from earlier rise to his feet from the fireplace and staring at you once more. You just stared back at him. He was so odd behaving. „Thank you Swiss now please can you ask Sister Helena to bring us two cups of hot cocoa?“ The masked man nodded and left.

„Okiedokie little one you need to warm up now. Here take the blanket and hand me back the robe. You might want to sit closer to the fire, yes?“ he said with his thick italian accent.

When you had yourself wrapped around the blanket and sat in front of the fire for a few seconds you could already feel your cold frozen limbs warming up. You did no longer feel stiff and rigid from the cold. The man draped his drenched coat over a chair and pulled it to the fireplace. Then he opened up his gloves and took them off laying them next to the coat. You noticed the crucifix on them making you realize that indeed these were the bad people you should not talk to. But so far they have treated you with so much kindness you were confused. „Now do you feel better, bella?“ He sat down next to you. You nodded still unsure what to say. „Do not worry, no one here will harm you. You have my word. And after the cocoa you might feel a bit more comfortable talking eh?“ He smiled goofily.

You wondered if you could just ask him the many questions you had in mind. But you feared to speak freely. Your parents never seemed to like when you spoke freely, openly, whenever you had questions. And you had many questions. You were an overly curious child.

His warm smile made you feel secure enough to try though. „What is your name sir?“ A look of surprise flashed over his face. „Oh where were my manners all this time. I did not even tell you who I was. My name is Copia. Bishop Copia. Pleased to meet you, nameless one.“ He bowed down a little making you giggle at his overly silly actions.

It warmed the Bishops heart to see the young girl giggling and smiling genuinely for the first time. She was a cute child not older than 7 or 8 and it made his heart ache knowing that someone must have hurt her deeply for her to run into the forrest under the conditions he found her in. She was in fact lucky that it was him who found her but she did not need to know that. She was safe now and he would make sure she would safely return home as soon as he made sure she felt better.

„Nice to meet you too Copia.“ you answered not bothering with stuff like titles and all. The past few minutes you spent with this strange Copia person you felt increasingly comfortable around him. It made you more confident so you decided to just try to get answers to the thundering questions that formed in your head each time you looked at him.

Playing with your fingers you asked „Can I ask you a question Copia?“ you prompted with a look of uncertainty in a barely hearable manner, slightly scared he would punish you like your parents always do when you ask them.

To your surprise he seemed to encourage you to ask him. „Certo piccolo. Whatever it is you would like to ask please feel free to do so yes? I will answer you honestly.“ „Oh“ you answered a bit surprised „uhm.. are you sure is it not too much?“ you stammered, taken aback by the earnestness in his tone. „Of course little one. It is good to ask questions. You should always question things yes? Proves that you have a brain and are trying to understand the world around you. It only shows you are an intelligent young girl.“ the bishop said in his accent.

„Uh and what if it involves people?“ you asked shyly. „Oh especially if it involves people. You should question their motives and backgrounds. It is a way of self preservation no? To make sure you are not fooled around.“ Just as the Bishop was about to speak once more a knock on the door interrupted you. He got up and opened the door. You heard hushed voices and then the door clicking shut again.

When the Bishop came back to you he placed a cup of heavenly smelling hot cocoa in front of you. „There you go cara.“ He patted the space next to the cup.

He sat back down next to you in front of the hot cracking fire. The hot cup warmed your hands even more and you took a small sip from the cup. The hot liquid ran down your throat and warmed you from the inside. It made you feel utterly exhausted and you felt yourself getting drowsy with each passing second when suddenly Bishops voice rang through the silence of the room once again. „So what did you want to ask about young one?“ You sat up right again hesitating once more to ask your questions.

„Well I was curious. This is a religious place isn‘t it?“ The Bishop raised one eyebrow looking at you. „Yes it is indeed.“ he answered nodding. „But you do not worship god. You worship the devil.“ Once again he nodded but stayed perfectly calm. You expected him to get mad at you to maybe even hurt you or kick you out of this place. Instead he surprised you even more. „I know you probably heard many bad things about this place and us. People usually do not like the devil or those who swore to him. But I can assure you that none of that is true. We are not evil. We do not do evil things in the name of Satan.“ he said nonchalantly, taking another sip of his cocoa as if it was nothing special for him to speak about these things.

„But if you swore to him isn‘t it true that you do the devils work? And the devil is bad everybody knows that. He hurts people and causes suffering and pain.“

Copia chuckled hearing that. „Now now is that what you have experienced? Did anyone in the name of Satan ever hurt you? Caused you suffering and pain? Or did somebody merely tell you these things so that you stay on the ‚right‘ path? Their path?“ He used his fingers exaggerating the word „right“.

That stunned you silent. Indeed no one from the Satanic Church had ever done you any harm. Quite the opposite actually so far they seemed to be ok. But you had merely had one encounter with members of this church now so who were you to judge.

The Bishop cocked his head to the side and looked at you. He was quite fascinated with you. „You are an intelligent little girl I see that. You are asking the right questions now do not let anyone tell you any different. Most people who will tell you that we are doing evil are people who try to control you. Who try to make you their pawn so that you will obey them.“ Copia said with his finger raised. „But my parents always told me to stay away from you people.“ you countered. Copia took a sip from his own cup now. „Ah I see your parents raised you in a christian way and they are very strong believers, yes? Tell me little one do you believe in God?“

You stared at him and answered instantly. „Yes I believe in God and Jesus Christ our lord and saviour.“ The sentence shot out of your mouth before you could even think about it. Years and years of your short life had your parents spent to burn these words into your brain. They were a part of you ever since you could remember. When it came to religion your parents were strict. There was no other way for you than become the good catholic girl that everybody expected you to be.

Copia raised one eybrow at your far to soon answer. „Is that truly your answer or your parents answer from your mouth?“ You gazed at him wide eyed. No one had ever dared to question your devotion to God. „Of course I do. My father is the local priest. How could I not believe in God?“

At that Copia choked his cocoa and set his cup down coughing violently. „Excuse me bella. Did you just say your father is the local priest?“ At that your eyes widened in fear. Only then you realized you just told the devil worshipping man that you were the child of the man that has sworn to fight his church, who has sworn to do anything to wipe them away from this town. Fear consumed you and you froze, your face twisting in horror. „Oh no no no little one do not get scared i will not harm you or your father if that is what you are thinking. It is just you see it makes much more sense now. Your beliefs and your actions and all.“ He said in a calming manner. „You see I have never seen such a young one with such strong beliefs as yourself.“ his face was only a few centimeters from yours now and he winked at you.

A sigh escaped his mouth and he finished the rest of his cup and encouraged you to keep drinking yours. When you did he kept his eyes on you contemplating. You were too young to see but he was watching your every move. He could not help himself but pity you in a way. You must have suffered so much already under the christian church in your short life. The daughter of the local priest. Copia knew you were going to suffer far more under the heavy weight of your parents' church. He wanted to help you but there was not much he could do that would not cause even more damage. Satan, he hoped that once you returned home you would not be punished for talking to him especially. It was getting quite late now and he knew the sooner you were back home the better it would be for you.

„So do you want to return to your family now? I can send a Ghoul to escort you back.“ You stared back at him in horror. „C.. Can you come with me?“ you stammered out. „Well yes of course. Now let us go before it is too late.“

Copia and the Ghoul dropped you off around the corner of the street you lived in. The rest of the way you would have to walk alone you both decided so she would not get into extra trouble at the door. Copia watched from a safe distance as the door opened and your father grabbed your arm rather harshly and pulled you inside and the last thing he saw was your father banging the door shut.

#god i am so shy posting this #cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #ghost band #ghost #papa emeritus #myedit #tobias forge #ghesties #papa emeritus iv #copia #ghost sweden #ghost fic #mywriting #papa emeritus fic #copia x reader #my fic #it’s a sin

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escailyyy · 2 months ago

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Sansa and Tyrion end up together multiverse part 1

So today I'm in an angsty mood because how dare my ships not end up together and where is the justice for Sansa and Tyrion because they could have had it all and they were done so dirty. Anyway in case I forget about it after I go to sleep I wanna do either a photo set or a bunch of vignettes inspired in this Quote by Gaby Dunn:

You just found me in the wrong universe. That’s all. This is, as they say, the darkest timeline. Everywhere else, nay, “everywhen” else — us in the Civil War, us in Ancient Egypt, us in the swinging ’60s — we are happy....If you’re sad, do like I do and just think of the other ‘verses. The ones where I believe in love and where I don’t hate myself and where I never feel the need to kamikaze relationships. A universe where we can have nice things. It’s helpful, right?

Because you could have loved me forever. And maybe in another universe, I let you. - Gaby Dunn

And it would just be Sansa and Tyrion in a bunch of multiverse scenarios where they do end up together so here is part 1.

-The one where Sansa and Tyrion are two strangers having a one night stand before a destination wedding in the Bahamas and then they find out they're a bridesmaid and groomsmen for Jon and Danny. It's a hilarious wedding filled with misadventures, they end up back in bed a bunch of times, until they're caught by the bride and groom making out and they have to be dragged into performing their wedding party duties. Tyrion catches the bouquet, Sansa gives a terribly cringy speech about love and romance. Once it's all over Sansa and Tyrion realize life is too short to worry about what ifs and decide to start a life of traveling the world together.

-the one where Sansa is a pro tennis player and Tyrion is a sports reporter and they just click after one too many press conferences

The one where Sansa is an assassin tasked with killing the Lannister black sheep son but ends up liking him instead, and he likes her so much he turns himself into an informant for the FBI once they offer him the chance to erase her criminal records so they can be together in witness protection. ( I like to think that in this universe Sansa and Tyrion have the pleasure of killing Tywin as a couple)

The universe in which they are broke roommates making ends meet! Because Tyrion got himself disinherited and Sansa's father is in jail for fake charges, and there's a this shoebox apartment they can afford pooling their respective funds. He watches her date and she watches him date until at one point they realize the reason none of their relationships ever work out is because the perfect companion has always been at home, waiting with open arms.

The WW2 war universe where Sansa is an army nurse and Tyrion is a assistant for his Sergeant father stationed in the camp Sansa is assigned to. They get caught up in the war and fall inlove despite the hardship but ultimately they're separated when their station is evacuated but they promise to meet again in London when the war ends. After many hardships. They're reunited after the fall of Hitler and set off to start a family together.

The universe in which Tyrion is an old school Rock Star and Sansa is a Pop Singer who writes her own music and their fans absolutely hate them together. But they take Hollywood by storm and have a torrid highly publicized romance which crashes and burns, ( but not really because they're secretly still together and have been for years. And they just want the press to stay out of their relationship)

The obligatory Christmas universe where Sansa is a top executive who gets called back to her small town of Winterfell for Christmas. And then there's Tyrion the jolly coffee shop owner who teaches her that there's more to Christmas than just consumerism and sadness. Later he reveals his tragic backstory as a burned out fortune 500 VP, who decided to follow his dream of living in a small town and opening his own coffee shop. They both skate, meet mall Santa Claus, pick out a Christmas tree and fall inlove under the magic of the mistletoe. I just know they probably bought a Christmas tree farm and are running it together.

Roaring 20's universe where Tyrion runs a speakeasy and Sansa is the flapper girlfriend of his nephew, who breaks up with Joff the first time he tries bullying her. So Tyrion gives her a special pass in his establishment and they become friends. They both like to gossip about his patrons and find ways to keep the party going during the prohibition. Eventually she moves her stuff into his room upstairs and just leaves them there, he takes it to mean they're an item and lets her do whatever she wants, which she takes to mean he's her man now. After the prohibition ends they turn his place into a bar and decide to settle down and become semi respectable members of society, Tyrion drinks, Sansa dances, and they're happy together. ( The grandkids still hear the wildest stories about their youth)

I'll add a part 2 or 3 later, I'm going to sleep now. If they're Sanrion stans still out there, shoot me a message in my inbox about which other universes Sansa and Tyrion do end up together.

( And which variants, you want to see in a an 'into the spiderverse' style drabble, in which multiple variants meet the couple of that one Benioff-Weiss universe where they DIDN'T end up together)

#sanrion #sansa and tyrion #sansa stark #tyrion lannister #sansa x tyrion #in every universe

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electronickingdomfox · 4 months ago

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"Dreams of the Raven" review

Novel from 1987, by Carmen Carter. I'm afraid I don't have much good to say about this one. It failed to catch my attention, and even though the premise had potential, it was ultimately a wasted opportunity.

The titular "Ravens" are an interesting, terrifying new alien species, but they appear very briefly, and almost everything concerning them is resolved hastily in the last chapters (and largely off-screen). Also, some things are simply left hanging, like the fate of those assimilated by the Ravens. Thus, most of the novel deals with a crippled Enterprise trudging at impulse power to the nearest starbase, with barely any developments in-between.

The other major plot thread, that of McCoy losing all his memories from the last twenty-something years, could have been so much better too. He reverts to his personality as a young man, in his first year of medicine, and doesn't remember anything about his years in Starfleet. This would have been a perfect opportunity to re-examine his relationship with his career and close friends, but sadly there's zero development in that area. He's a stranger to them at the beginning, and still a stranger by the end, until he recovers all his memories suddenly in a pretty anticlimactic way, and again, off-screen. Instead of that, we're subjected to yet another insipid, useless romance with guest Dr. Dyson, who's treating his amnesia. The romance was predictable not because it makes much sense (shoehorned in the middle; in one scene they have a strictly doctor-patient relationship, and in the next they're dating or something). It's predictable because Dyson happens to be a woman, she's given a name, she's much younger than McCoy, and has more than five lines of dialogue. Extra cringe points, because Dyson knows perfectly well that, if McCoy were in his right mind, he'd never consent to such a relationship. Apart from this, the actual reason for McCoy's amnesia presents a petty, depressing portrayal of the character, with the implications that, deep down, he resents his whole life and his career in Starfleet. And I don't feel this was resolved very well at the end.

Spoilers under the cut:

The Enterprise is stationed at Wagner Trading Post, when they receive a distress call from a Frenii merchant ship, supposedly attacked by Klingons. Upon reaching the area, Kirk speaks with the captain of the disabled vessel, recognizing his voice. But just when he was sending several shuttles to aid them, the sensors register unusual life forms aboard the merchant ship. Sensing a trap, Kirk recalls the shuttles, but not quickly enough. The hijacked vessel crashes against the Enterprise before it can raise the shields, and the damage is catastrophic. As result, the ship is left without warp drive, and very limited power for shields and weapons. However, they manage to recover some fragments of corpses. The hostile aliens are of an unknown species: blue-skinned, with a beak, and a very unusual brain, completely divided in two lobes as if they could function independently. They name the creatures "Ravens", but can't learn much more from the few body pieces.

Meanwhile, McCoy receives some very distressing personal message, that he quickly burns (because he's still printing everything in paper in the 23rd century). He feels so agitated that he gets drunk. And during a routine gravity adjustment in the ship, he loses his balance and gets bonked in the head. Upon waking up, McCoy has lost his memories of the last twenty-five years, and absolutely hates the ship and the life choices of "old McCoy". He doesn't understand how he could ever join Starfleet, and just wants to go back to Earth, be a country doctor, and set his life right again. Neurologist Dr. Dyson examines his case, and determines that the amnesia isn't caused by any physical injury. McCoy has just repressed his memories to escape from something that he doesn't dare to face.

Later on, Spock, who was present during the accident, tries to reconstruct the chain of events to find the trigger for the amnesia. He finds the burnt pieces of paper, and checks all recent messages in the computer. It turns out that McCoy had received a letter from his ex-wife, telling him that she was about to re-marry, and this caused his psychological escape to the past. Now, let's examine for a moment all this info, and what it says about McCoy's personality in this book. Yes, there was always the implication in the series that he joined Starfleet after his divorce. But here, the story is that he also joined out of pure spite, and at some level, never really liked his career. There's also the fact that, after two decades of his divorce, he's still spiteful enough to resent his wife for (gasp!) marrying again!!... Ugh...

Meanwhile, the Enterprise limps back to Wagner Post at impulse power (an amazingly QUICK impulse power anyway, because it only takes them two weeks to reach it!). During the trip, they find a deserted Klingon vessel, which seems to have fallen prey to the Ravens as well. Kirk sends Sulu and a skeleton crew to man the Klingon ship, which comes along as an escort to protect the crippled Enterprise. Just in time, because they're attacked by more Ravens. Thanks to the cloaking device of the Klingon ship, Kirk manages to trick them this time, and the two ships destroy the attackers.

The recovered corpses look a bit different, but still seem to be Ravens; only these ones are green-skinned, and show a few physiological variations. Then, "young McCoy" decides to do something useful for a change, and remembers the crazy stories of one of the patients during his first hospital practice. The man raved about some aliens that had attacked his shuttle. They had beaks and a paralyzing poison, that they used to suck out the brains of their victims. After absorbing the brains, they gained the memories and personality of those assimilated, and could mimic their voices (well, too bad that, at this point, Kirk has already figured out most of this on his own, so it's not such useful info...). It's also suggested that McCoy's regression to the past wasn't just because he's an incel, but also because he was unconsciously trying to remember these stories about the Ravens (yeah, whatever...).

Now certain that Wagner Post has been overtaken by Ravens, Kirk organizes an assault. The Enterprise lures the stationed Raven ships away, while a landing party infiltrates the base. McCoy goes along the landing party, since his previous knowledge of the Ravens could resurface at a critical moment. The landing party discovers the queen of the Ravens, a giant blob of flesh that the aliens keep feeding with their victims. But soon they're captured by one of their leaders (the Raven who adopted the personality of the former Klingon commander). The aliens set apart the women (and McCoy), since they consider them too weak. Instead, one of the green Ravens eats the brain of a redshirt (as it's due), and experiments a metamorphosis: it becomes blue, and gains the knowledge of the crewman. After this, the leader turns his attention towards Spock... Just then, McCoy recovers another bit of knowledge, and attacks the Raven leader with an hypo, severing the link between its two brains. This causes the Klingon's personality to become dominant and free of the Raven's influence. And he decides to help the landing party by setting a bomb in the queen's chamber, sacrificing himself in the process.

The detonation kills the queen and severs her links with all the Raven victims, so they stop attacking the Enterprise. The problem is, the victims are still inside Raven bodies, so now what!? There's little said about them, other than in the aftermath, they've been sedated to prevent them from commiting suicide (...Hurray???). Spock, however, was partly caught in the explosion, and the current chief medical officer lacks the knowledge about Vulcan biology to perform a successful surgery. Kirk prompts McCoy to perform the surgery, in the hopes that his medical knowledge will come back when most needed. Sure enough, the Deus Ex Machina arrives (off-stage), and McCoy emerges from surgery with good news about Spock. He's his old self again, and all his memories as "young McCoy" from the last two weeks have been completely wiped. In a sense, he sacrificed the other McCoy to save Spock, and doesn't even remember his affair with Dyson. The latter, however, doesn't care too much, since she just wanted to bang McCoy while he was amnesiac, so her duty as neurologist is accomplished here. The End.

McSpirk Meter: 5/10*. Though it's mostly on Kirk's part, and seems rather unreciprocated. Kirk is going through an angsty trip ever since McCoy lost his memories of their friendship, and is kind of painful to watch. When McCoy complains about having turned into an old man all of a sudden (from his point of view, he was twenty years old a moment ago), Kirk compliments him saying it's "a good face". Later, he's jealous of Dr. Dyson, since she's receiving most of McCoy's attention. And at one point, he desperately begs McCoy to recover his memories, asking him to not leave him. Kirk is also the one to urge Spock to help McCoy, in the name of "friendship". Yet for all his efforts, Kirk receives little in return. Just a present from McCoy: an ornamental knife that Kirk was trying to buy at the starbase in the beginning. (You deserved better, Jim!) The Kirk/Spock angle is present in Kirk's frantic attempts to make McCoy save Spock's life, and his general hysteria upon seeing Spock in such a condition. As for Spock/McCoy, there's also a bit about the secret fondness that Spock feels for the doctor, which he won't dare to admit. As well as the implication that McCoy only recovered his old self when Spock's life was in danger.

This may seem quite a lot, but actually, this novel gave me a bit of "anti-slash" vibes. All the scenes between Kirk, Spock and McCoy, that could have had a great emotional impact, are cut short or diminished, in favor of scenes with Dr. Dyson. It almost seems like the author is using the amnesia trick to separate McCoy from the other two, so she can have her straight romance.

#star trek tos #star trek novels #novel review #mcspirk

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broadwaybalogna · 6 months ago

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I have seen you ask for a prompt, and though I do not really ship zutara, heres a random one:

Growing up, there was a knock on the door every year at midnight on Katara's birthday. Despite everyone else sleeping, she'd always creep to the door, only to find nothing. But this year, on her 20th birthday, something changed. The knock came, and this time, a handsome man with a scar over the left side of his face stood there. He was the stranger from her dream – a capable bender who saved her from a terrifying creature. And she hoped desperately that her nightmare wasn't a glimpse of the future.

Oh my god this is so fuckin cool. This feels like it would be a 200k 50 chapter slow burn romance book, though. And I fear I cannot provide. So instead, here are some ideas I had while at my seven hour work shift earlier today when contemplating this idea!

1. Zuko also has dreams on this day. At the end of the dream, he sees a door and for the first few years, he never touches it. Then, one day, he knocks. The moment he does so, he is swept out of his dream and wakes up. This goes on for a few years and his dreams feel like they progressively get shorter. It gets to the point where he finally decides he wants to just walk through the door, but he never has enough time. He’s crashed into the door multiple times, which left Katara will nightmares for months. Until he FINALLY makes it through and Katara is standing across from him with a sword in her hand and ice shards behind her ready to attack.

2. Zuko has no fucking clue if he’s still dreaming or somehow teleported to a random woman’s room.

3. Once finally acquainted and realizing that neither of them are dreaming, Zuko wishes Katara a happy birthday.

4. Every year Katara has the same dream where she is attacked by a brutal monster and is awoken by a knock right as she is saved. She only catches a glimpse of the scar on the man’s face, but she is immediately able to identify Zuko as the man.

5. A fire nation spirit comes alive and Katara is able to identify it as the monster that almost kills her. She is dead set on killing it before it gets the chance.

6. She has a dope asf face off with the monster. And the moment she always experienced when dreaming, the moment right before it breathes fire into her face, almost burning her, occurs mid fight, which Zuko does, actually save her from. But it’s a hardly memorable part of the fight. In fact, it leads her to wonder wtf the point of that dream was??? Was ur just to identify Zuko? But they would’ve met either way? What’s the significance? And actually, we really glazed over the face that Zuko just spawned in her room?? What was up with that? This all goes on in Katara’s head as she fights and fucking wins.

7. We meet avatar Aang who is able to spirit bend the shit out of things. They realize he was the one who was able to get Zuko to enter her room, via spirit bending magic that definitely has plot holes.

8. Their dreams??? That’s some divine intervention type shit. They never know what caused it but they know it brought them together, and that’s what matters.

9. They share a kissy kiss and become the most powerful couple the four nations have ever seen.

10. Maybe the real monster was the friends we made along the way.

#atla #zutara #atla katara #atla zuko #avatar the last airbender #katara #zuko #fanfiction #katara x zuko #zuko x katara #fanfic

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anoras · 1 year ago

Note

general - 1, 4 & 10

story specific - 10

romance - 2 & 3

companion au ask meme

answered 10 in general here, 10 in story specific here, and 3 in romance here !

general

1. Where can your Tav be recruited? Are they first encountered on the Nautiloid, or in the Nautiloid crash region? Or are they not recruitable until a later act?

She can be found outside the south/lower door to the Ancient Temple, below where the looters are arguing. She'll call out to you when you get close, and ask for your help. "Hey! You! From the ship!" > Speak to her "You were on the ship - like me. I saw you, walking around. You didn't help then, so you can help me now. Those looters up there, they have friends inside, and they stole something from me. Something important." > "What did they take?" "Something that will give them a nasty surprise if they open it. Just -" She is cut off by the psionic connection of your tadpoles. For a moment, your minds merge; you are her, and she is you. You are walking through a dense forest, a bear at your side. You're tracking something - something massive. Trees and brush lie broken and burned before you; you know the dragon is close, but you don't fear, you are not alone in this. You reach out, touch your companion's head, you both ready yourself for the fight. > "The bear?" > "How did you manage to lose a bear?" "I didn't lose a bear! They stole the bear - and they don't even know they took him. It's an amulet that he's inside. Please - I've had him since he was a cub." If you have Gale with you, he'll comment on the potential enchantment on the amulet she mentions and encourage you to help her.

4. What sort of general actions raise or lower their approval?

Generally she approves of helping people and doing good deeds. She has the folk hero background, so her approval tends to line up with what one would expect from that. She also disapproves of unnecessary cruelty, refusing to help when asked, or letting people die avoidable deaths (ie; major disapproval from letting Arabella die). There are a few points in act one where she approves of unexpected things - or says things that you wouldn't expect from a heroic type, or from a ranger. Particularly, she's very curious, and will approve of asking questions and finding out other people's secrets, but will disapprove of giving out more information than is absolutely necessary. - She approves of finding out Kagha's secret, and of telling Kagha & the shadow druids to admit what they were doing. - She will ask you to give her the Necromancy of Thay, and approve if you ask her why OR if you give the book to her without question. However, giving the book to her without question will start her on the path to accepting Vecna's influence. Refusing to give her the book will also net her approval, and she will thank you later as she "doesn't know why she asked for it. For a moment [I] wasn't in [my] right mind." - She approves of deceiving people who try to pry into the party's business. - She will disapprove of telling people about the prism. (Yes, even Jaheira.) - Though she won't approve or disapprove of asking her questions about her past, you will trigger her curse-reveal scene once you've asked and (forced her to) answer enough questions about herself. In that scene she'll approve of you asking what's wrong with her hand. After the choice in Rosymorn, her approval and disapproval will shift slightly, and depending on if she is dedicated to Lathander, or if she embraced Vecna's influence, she will approve of more openness (Lathander), or will sometimes value secrecy even over helping people (Vecna).

romance

2. Does your Tav need to be flirted with to start the romance, or will they approach the PC themselves if approval is high enough?

She will approach the PC herself if her approval is high enough! Her romance starts off as a casual hookup, and she'll be quite open about that.

#ysalamir #tegan #i had to rewrite this whole thing bc my tablet restarted during the night and i lost all of it </3

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sunnywalnut · 8 months ago

Text

Yk I WOULD say we need more lovable bastards in media but I know full well that y'all will babygirl their asses until the narrative turns haywire to the point even the AUTHOR will forget how they're characterized and that makes me sad.

Like yeah dude ruined the life of some stranger for looking at him wrong, but he ALSO is completely and utterly loyal to those who are closest to him.

Those two things CAN and SHOULD coexist. You don't just get to choose what's canon and what's not (I mean you can if you're doing fanfiction but like. Talking about actual canon events and leaving out pivotal moments??? Not swag). Especially if the main characterization of those bastards is that they ARE bastards.

Give me dudes who say rude shit just to say rude shit but then turn around and pay for the person behind them. Give me people who will influence others to make bad decisions and then laugh when it crashes and burns but be holding a glass of water to put out the fire. Give me absolute downright BASTARDS who's only reason they're not completely gone is that for every awful thing they do, they do an equally good thing to balance it out because they believe in karma.

Are these people as enjoyable in real life as they are in media? Of course not. But they are fucking funny to watch. And I hate to see this characterization butchered to hell because some people (including myself during times) can't fathom why they enjoy this character if they're not fundamentally good/they think that liking this character despite/because of actions have some sort of narrative on themselves as people.

Sometimes things are just more funny in media than they are in real life.

And sometimes, we just wish we could bitch about everything and watch the world burn as safely as the assholes on screen because they have plot armor and we don't.

That shouldn't be a bad thing.

I mean shit. If we judged every single author for having an awful protagonist, we wouldn't have over HALF of the horror genre, romance, adventure, comedy, or anything of the like.

I mean look at fuckin Kuzko. Everyone liked his dumbass. He's still an ass!! And dude isn't even fully reformed by the end of the movie!! He still doesn't like to admit he's wrong!! But now he's got friends and family and knows the value of other people's lives!! BUT HE'S STILL STUCK UP AND RICH!!

I dunno. I just like to ramble.

Enjoy✨(or not. I can't tell you what to do)

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sashimi-time · 2 years ago

Text

Completed Romance Manga/Manhwa/Manhua Recommendations (1)

Other than being into BL, I love reading romance stuff. So, I decided to make a completed romance recommendation list, too!

Positively Yours (82 chapters, Tapas)

Plot (AP): To Hee-won’s dismay, the BFF she crushed on and her other BFF are now dating! Seriously bummed, Hee-won decides to go wild just one time, and find solace with a handsome stranger. A very satisfying one night affair has now turned into more — she’s pregnant! Fate brings them together again, and now the regimented Doo-joon is determined to do the right thing and marry her. But they’re basically strangers! Except... their bodies have been very intimately acquainted. What’s this mother-to-be to do?

Notes: Everything about this manhwa, to me, is perfect. I love it. So much. I hope it gets an adaptation of some sort because the main couple and side couple are so. freakin'. cute.

Last Game (66 chapters)

Plot (AL): He's rich, he's smart, girls gather around him all the time, and he has always gotten first place on his exams... well, until Kujou transferred in his primary school class. She was quiet, plain, and poor, yet not once has she failed at beating Yanagi, both in academics and sports! Yanagi has made it his life goal to defeat this girl Kujou, and ten years later, as they enter high school, he just might finally win! This is the story of their last game.

Notes: I think this was really, really cute. The drawing is adorable as heck, too. It's wholesome and sweet. I love the Kujou and Yanagi very much.

Miss Not-So Sidekick (169 chapters; Tappytoon)

Plot (AL): Hye-Jung loved to read to escape her daily stress. But that’s before she woke up inside the bizarre world of her favorite novel! Instead of the main heroine who courts three eligible men, she is now Latte Ectrie – a minor villain that everyone hates?! One way or another, it’s a chance to live out her most beloved storyline, with popcorn in hand to watch all the drama! Taking charge of the narrative takes on a whole new meaning!

Notes: I think the art style is very unique. The story is funny and entertaining, and the romance is cute. It's slow-burn thought, but totally worth it! Latte for the win!

Jishou Akuyaku Reijou na Konyakusha no Kansatsu Kiroku (33 chapters)

Plot (AL): Crown prince Cecil was so brilliant that everything in life was easy to the point of boring him, then one day, his fiancée Bertia suddenly said "Prince Cecil, I am a villainess!" Claiming that this world is the same as that of an "otome game" from her past life and that she is playing the role of the "villainess" in it, she aims to play her part well and have their engagement annulled. With that goal in mind, she sets about causing turmoil in Cecil's daily life.

Notes: I think this might not be everyone's cup of tea, but I absolutely adore this story. It's not common to have a reincarnation story from the point of view of the prince instead of the villainess!

Tomo-chan wa Onna no ko! (961 chapters)

Plot (AL): Boyish high school girl Aizawa Tomo finally manages to tell her childhood friend Jun that she’s got a crush on him. Unfortunately, her confession goes right over his head—he didn’t even realize she was a girl until junior high, and even now, Jun still thinks of her as a bro! How can Tomo-chan possibly convince him otherwise and win Jun’s heart?

Notes: Now, don't be fooled by the number of chapters. One chapter usually has only 1 page, so it's a really quick read. It's funny and cute. I loved it! Plus, it's going to get an anime adaptation! I'm super excited!

Akuyaku Reijou nanode Last Boss wo Kattemimashita (17 chapters)

Plot (AL): Avoid the bad ending at all costs! When her fiancé breaks up with her in front of the entire student body, noblewoman Aileen d’Autriche is devastated—or she would have been, if that wasn’t also the exact moment memories of her past life came crashing back! Turns out, she’s been reborn as the villainess of a dating sim... and according to the story, she’s slated to die at the hands of the demon king in three months! But Aileen’s already got a plan: Step one, get Demon King Claude to fall in love with her. Step two, live!

Notes: If it's not obvious, I like reincarnation/isekai romance. I've enjoyed reading this one! It's cute and entertaining. You should most definitely give it a try! PLUS! It's going to have an anime adaptation! YAY!

Beauty Pop (57 chapters)

Plot (AL): Kiri's friend Kanako gives a present to one of the members of the Scissors Project. Her act of kindness is interpreted as a bribe to get a makeover, and they reject her out of hand for being too ugly. Kiri decides to help Kanako and give the boys a lesson in what true beauty is.

Notes: I actually read this when I was younger, but I seriously loved it. Give it a try, too! It's pretty simple lols. But I thought it was very enjoyable to read.

Taiyou no Ie (70 chapters)

Plot (AL): As a child, Mao spent all her time at Hiro’s house across the street. Going to his house always made her feel cheerful. A few years later, Mao’s father gets remarried and Mao finds herself with nowhere to call home. Hiro ends up letting her stay with him in the house he’s been occupying alone since the death of his parents. A love story unfolds, between two childhood friends of different ages.

Notes: This is most definitely one of the best romance mangas I've read. I absolutely love that it doesn't fully focus on the romance aspect, but also on the idea of 'family.' A manga that deserves an anime series! Mao and Hiro deserve good things in life. (〃＾▽＾〃)

Tonari no Kaibutsu-kun (69 chapters)

Plot (AL): Mizutani is a self-absorbed overachiever, concerned only with maintaining the highest grades in school. Haru is an impulsive short tempered brute, who scares everyone with his explosive bursts of violence. Haru gets suspended on the first day of school when he encounters some bullies harassing a student and dispatches the bullies with great bloody violence. Mizutani is tasked with delivering school materials to Haru who interprets this as an act of friendship and latches on to Mizutani, much to her dismay. And so begins a strange and potentially combustible relationship!

Notes: Another great romance manga. It has an amazing story, and the art is great! It's cute and entertaining, and again, I love that ~romance~ is not the only main focus of the story. All the characters are the best. It has an anime adaptation (which you should also watch) but the manga is 100000% better. Mostly because the story is more complete (of course.) I absolutely enjoyed the live-action, too! You have to check it out as well!

Dear (60 chapters)

Plot (AL): Meet Chiruha: She lives alone in a small secluded house deep in a mountainous forest, the TV her only connection to the outside world. After years of watching and dreaming of what life must be like in the outside world, she has gathered up her courage to venture out and explore the local village. However, she must be careful not to stand out among the humans, for Chiruha holds a secret...

Kisara also holds a secret...and a grudge. He's searching for who--or whatever cursed him, and he may have finally found the answer...

Notes: Now, I'm not sure if everyone would like this manga. I absolutely enjoyed reading it. I liked the story and the art (I think all the characters are adorable as heck). I loved all the characters. I really hope you give it a read. I hope you like it, too!

Horimiya (142 chapters)

Plot (AL): At school, Kyouko Hori is known for being smart, attractive, and popular. On the other hand, her classmate, the boring, gloomy Izumi Miyamura tends to get painted as a "loser fanboy." But when a liberally pierced and tattooed (not to mention downright gorgeous) Miyamura appears unexpectedly on the doorstep of secretly plain-Jane homebody Hori, these two similarly dissimilar teenagers discover that there are multiple sides to every story...and person!

Notes: I'm pretty sure everyone knows this one already, but I'll still include it because it's great! It's wholesome and entertaining. Everyone in this manga is da best. It has an anime adaptation, too!

Wotakoi (86 chapters)

Plot (AL): Narumi Momose has had it rough: every boyfriend she’s had dumped her once they found out she was an otaku, so she’s gone to great lengths to hide it. When a chance meeting at her new job with childhood friend, fellow otaku, and now coworker Hirotaka Nifuji almost gets her secret outed at work, she comes up with a plan to make sure he never speaks up. But he comes up with a counter-proposal: why doesn’t she just date him instead? In love, there are no save points.

Notes: Another well-known manga, which I am including because I love everything about it! All the characters are cute, the story is great, and the art is hella good. The anime got me into reading it, and it was a great decision. :3

Kondo koso Shiawase ni Narimasu! (30 chapters)

Plot (AL): “Wait for me, Louisa.” Those were the words that the hero, Graham, said to me before he set off to defeat the demon king. Graham who is both my childhood friend and lover. But, I have no intentions of waiting. In fact, I have the memories of my past three lives, and in all past three lives, I have been the hero’s childhood friend and lover. However, all past three heroes always found other women and never came back to me! That’s why I will no longer waste my time waiting for the hero to come back, this time I will definitely be happy!

Notes: I don't know. I really, really liked this one. I think the story is great! Try it out when you have time! :D

Hardcore Vanilla (34 chapters; Lezhin)

Plot (AL): “Tie me up and punish me. I want to be your dog…”

Chanhee has a major crush on Eunjo, the campus goddess. Tired of waiting around, he decides to join her in her secret fetishes – stepping foot into the wild, wild world of BDSM. What Chanhee doesn’t realize, however, is that Eunjo is a vanilla just like him, and that the two have just embarked on a journey neither of them had asked for. Kinks and crushes, and a whole lot of drama in between!

Notes: I guess it was kind of annoying at some parts, but I enjoyed reading it as a whole. It's very NSFW though. (〃￣ω￣〃ゞ

What do you think of the mangas/manhwas in this list? Do you have any other recommended ones? Please share them if you do! I wanna read loooots more mangas/manhwas/manhuas!

There aren't many manhwas in this list...mostly because the ones I'm reading aren't completed yet... I look forward to adding more to this list!

Part 2

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