#i haven’t written oneshots in a while
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What if the reader was high/drunk and when she’s high/drunk she’s the sweetest and very loving. How would Kieran react? Would he be all lovey with her?
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YANDERE!PLAYBOY X FEM!READER.
DRUNK IN SWEETNESS // ONESHOT.
warnings ;; yandere behaviour, possessive behaviour , fluff, obsession, lying (??), jealousy etc, slight angst (if you squint)
click here for the masterlist!
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Kieran walks into the party that he was dreading going to. Because he gave up hooking up with girls, going to parties was too boring for him. He can’t get drunk because he has a very high tolerance and the conversations he has with his so-called ‘friends’ makes him want to feel pain so he can shoot himself five times in the head.
The white-haired male would much rather talk with you, feel you, and joke around with you. Too bad, every time he asks for your number you mutter out a sarcastic response and switch the topic.
It’s not his fault he wants to speak with you at all times! I mean…He could just sneak into your house and watch you from there. But he isn’t going to do that of course! He’s not a fucking creep.
As he walks deeper into the house party, alcohol is pushed against his nose as his past hookups wink at him, the ones who want to be his new girl attempt to walk up to him but he just gives them a wink and pushes past them. If he got a coin for the number of people who dabbed him up and knew his name while he didn’t know theirs, He’d probably be twice as rich as he is now.
The playboy (or ‘former’ playboy) gets pulled into a conversation with the football jocks as they speak about the next game, who they’re going to go for and just basic stuff etc. Kieran makes a joke here and there and he can’t tell if they’re laughing at it because it was legitimately funny or if they’re laughing because they want to get on his good side.
With you, he never had to think that. He knows that you laugh if something is actually funny and God, it makes him feel so proud when he’s the one who gets the laugh out of you.
Speaking of you…His eyes glance away from the group for a split second and the same eyes widen at the scene in front of him. It was you. Dressed up for a party he would never imagine you would go to and hell, you looked fine as fuck. But there was no way you would go to this shitty party! Who would even invite you? The jocks?? No, no it couldn’t have been. Could it?
Maybe he’s just too obsessed with you that he’s imagining you there. He quickly disregards the conversation and walks up to the couch he’s supposedly imagining you on. But there you were, In the flesh. He gives you an infamous smirk before smoothly saying
“Woah, didn’t kn—“ “Oh, my god!! Kieran! Helloooo!!” You grin at him before jumping up from your seat, almost stumbling to the ground and give him a big hug before giggling. “Fancy seeing you here~!”
Kieran remained still for what felt like hours but was actually around 5 seconds. Why were you happy to see him? Why are you hugging him??? “…Haha hey now— What’s gotten’ into you princess?”
This was one of the first times he was almost speechless. Normally you reject his advances constantly. Even if he put an arm around your shoulder, you would give him a sharp glare and push him off. But now…You’re hugging him?!
Unfortunately for him, you let go of the blissful hug before looking up at him and pouting with wide glassy eyes.
��Are you not happy to see me…I’m r-really happy to see you, Kieran!” You sniff and flop back onto the couch. Glaring at him with narrowed eyes and a pout on your cherished lips.
The blue-eyed male recovers from his shocked flustered stare before realising…bottles everywhere, your eyes were struggling to stay open, emotions off the rail. You were obviously drunk! Your personality seemed more intimate too. He could use this to his advantage. Kieran quickly sits down next to you and holds onto your arm.
“Of course, I'm happy to see you, cutie! I'm always happy to see your pretty little face~” He flirts back at you, wondering how the drunk version of you would respond.
You lean into his touch and smile. “I knew you’d be happy to see me..!!” you look at his face and then his shirt before placing a hand against it. “Woah— your shirt suits you so much, Kier! You should wear blue more often” You compliment him with a wide smile and your eyes closed.
Kieran looks at your flushed face. In his heart, he knows it’s because of the alcohol but ignorance is bliss so he’ll pretend it was because of him. His face matched yours despite not drinking anything. The new nickname and the compliment which you never give him, gives him electrical pangs in his heart.
He looks down at you with a widened smile and you’re so close to him, he just wants to kiss your red plumped lips but decided against it. He wanted you to be sober when you guys kissed. He wants you to remember his lips on yours.
“Jesus, how much did you drink princess?” He mutters to himself, intending for you not to hear but since you guys are only 8 cm away from each other, you hear him loud and clear.
With a big frown, you say “I'm not drunk…at all… barely even dranked…drunk..drank?” you slur your words out and struggle to keep your head up before giving up and placing it on his chest.
To people surrounding you guys, it looks as though you’re his millionth girlfriend and he’s just flirting with you. But Kieran doesn’t care what people think. The male turns you around and lets you lean on his chest with a content smile, he wraps his hands around your shoulders.
“Hm? I believe you babe~ you’re not drunk at all, yeah?” He says with a humming tune in his voice.
You let out a “Mhm!” noise and you guys stay like that for a while. Kieran is flirting with you and instead of your sarcastic responses, you giggle and laugh while acting all sweet to him too. He knows if you were sober right now and saw how you were acting with him, saw the very public display of affection, You’d vomit all over the place and never speak with him again.
But he was always good at keeping secrets.
Your sweet conversation got cut off by one of Kieran’s ‘friends’ who walks up to you both with a drink in hand before laughing.
“Yoo, this your new bitch? She’s hot as fuck, where’d ya’ get her?” He yells out, obviously drunk and high and everything in between.
Kieran’s smirk turns into an angered look. Something no one has ever seen before. His eyes darken as he hears the cunt refer to the love of his life as a ‘bitch’…as well as complimenting her too! No one deserves to compliment what's his. He should be the one to call you hot, not some guy who doesnt even know your name.
He snarls out “She’s my girlfriend you freak, Say shit like that one more time and I’ll knock you the fuck out. Got it?” He places his signature smirk back on but his eyes remain the same.
The poor guy has never seen Kieran act like this before. This was a look he never wanted to see ever again. He responds meekly with a “m-my bad bro” Before scurrying off like a lost little sheep.
Kieran’s smirk drops once again as he holds you even tighter in his grasp. His fingers dig into your skin as you yelp in pain.
“Ow!”
His touch loosens. “Sorry princess, just close your eyes again for’ me, okay?” He looks down at you and sees your tilted head staring at him with a confused and worrying stare. He raises his eyebrow before you softly explain
“I’m…your girlfriend?” Kieran laughs and nods his head confidently.
“Of course! Did my cute girl drink so much that she almost forgot?~” He pecks your nose before leaning back onto the armrest and closing his eyes, his arms still resting against your body.
You make a noise of confusion before accepting the fact that you’re his ‘girlfriend’ and get comfortable against him again.
“Ah…Sorry!” You giggle out. and hold onto his arms.
Kieran knows this is wrong. He knows that if you knew he did this, you'd hate him forever. But he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help the domestic feeling of being a boyfriend. Your boyfriend.
Although he loves your snarky responses, He could definitely get used to the sweet side of you. Just one more hour of this. Please.
purerae<3
#i haven’t written oneshots in a while#purerae#yandere blog#male yandere#yandere headcanons#male yandere oc#yandere#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere x reader#yandere playboy#yandere playboy x reader#playboy x reader#playboy lore#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere oneshots#yandere scenarios#yandere x darling#yandere x female reader#yandere oneshot#yandere hcs#yandere x y/n
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ʜᴛᴛᴘꜱꜱᴇʀᴇɴᴇ'ꜱ ꜰ1 ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ
ᴜᴘʟᴏᴀᴅ 1 : ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇꜱ ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ / ᴍᴀx ᴠᴇʀꜱᴛᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ |ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴋɪɴᴋ
📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: 18+ only. smut. corruption kink. orgasm delay/denial. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. hair-pulling. possessiveness. slight choking (glimpse and you miss it?). brief reference to previous dub-con (very minuscule, not charles or max). no penetrative sex. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 8k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: oneshot 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: all mine • brent faiyaz
ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: the strength i had to summon to post this is something crazy. it's my first smut fic if you can believe it or not, but the way i feel exposed to the world is wild. i almost forgot to include the actual kink because i got carried away, but it's there i promise you, don't get disappointed too early in! can confirm that while i was writing this i had to take several breaks and stare at the ceiling. the black!reader is vague i think, it's not noticeable until the end, but i had written it with all shades of my poc girlies in mind < 3. n e ways: hope you guys like it!
want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general tag list? send me an ask!
huge thanks to my beta readers @lorarri and @sweetpiccolo-blog ! i appreciate y'all so much :)
cross-posted on my ao3, htpsss
here's the link to the masterlist for my f1 kinktober special, and send me a private message if you would like to be added to the list to become a beta reader in the future!!!
it’s late. you’ve kicked jimmy and sassy out of the bedroom, and locked it shut. you’re standing with your back pressed against the door, staring with unfocused eyes. you moved your stuffed animals inside the closet and had them facing the wall even though you closed the closet door. the window curtains are drawn shut, and the only light in the room is the warmth of one nightstand lamp. one of the plushest towels max owns is spread across the bed. in the center lays a single pillow.
this is the last chance you have to get off before max and charles get home in a few hours. they’ve been gone for a triple-header, and you haven’t been able to orgasm once in the near month they’ve been gone. you’ve become depraved enough to consider buying a vibrator, but all packages delivered to this apartment have to be approved by max or charles to be sent up, and you’re definitely not bold enough to go out and buy one (and risk being seen by one of their fans or have to physically talk to someone to buy one).
the obvious thing to do would be to talk to your boyfriends, and tell them that you’re ready to start exploring the sexual side of your relationship. you’ve been dating them for two years now, and you’re afraid that they’re getting tired of waiting for you to be comfortable enough to have sex with them. but, you’re also afraid that once they learn how inexperienced you really are—they’ll make fun of you, leave you, and find some other woman who knows how to please them. you know that’s outrageous and never going to happen. they’re the sweetest boys you’ve ever dated (way better than that one dude you dated who tried to get you wasted enough to persuade you into having sex with him), and they’ve been very respectful concerning your boundaries. always pulling away when they feel themselves getting hard, and constantly reminding you to tell them to stop if you feel uncomfortable and that there’s nothing wrong with that, and that they’re willing to wait as long as you need, and will continue loving you regardless even if you decide to never have sex with them. so—of course you know that they won’t be assholes about your innocence—it’s just your own self-esteem, insecurity, and overthinking that prevents you from saying you’re ready.
you make a deal with yourself. if you can’t manage to get off grinding against your pillow one last time, you’ll force yourself to sit down with your boyfriends, stare them in the eyes and state that your ready to have sex. who are you kidding—you’re going to get off right now one way or another even if it kills you, because you definitely will wither away and die if you have to have that conversation with your boyfriends.
you walk over to the bed, heart beginning to race as you start playing one of those curated “songs i’d like to be railed to” playlists, before throwing your phone somewhere up the bed. you move to straddle the pillow, and begin to calm your heartbeat. you take a few deep breaths and let your mind wander. the first thought that comes to your head is the goodbye kiss you got from your boyfriends before they left.
they had gotten all their luggage together and were pulling on their shoes at the entryway. charles was pouting at you, wide green eyes and all, “you are sure that you don’t want to come with us? for at least one of the races? we’ll be gone for almost a—“
“yes, cha. i’m sure,” you cut him off with a firm nod, “lemme give you a kiss before you leave, okay?”
charles frowned at max who laughed—like he wasn’t the one begging you to come with them last night before you all went to bed. with a little upset ‘hmph’ charles leaned down and kissed you softly. you had pulled away, only trying to give him a peck, and charles grunted disapprovingly. one of his veiny hands rose and gripped at your waist over your t-shirt, strongly pulling you forward, causing you to tumble into his chest. “oh, i am going to need more than that, mon ange,” charles smirked down at you, “i am leaving for so long, and that’s the goodbye kiss you’re leaving me with? no, i do not think so.”
you glanced away from him, cheeks beginning to become warm as you make to hide your face is his broad chest. charles tutted at you, tightening his grip on your waist, and his other hand gently pushed your head up to look at him, “c’mere and give me a real kiss, pretty girl.”
you made a suppressed little squeal in the back of your throat, a noise max and charles became very familiar with, often present when they start teasing you. you surprisingly leaned up and initiated the kiss, causing charles to let out a shocked gasp into your mouth. his hand on your waist moved lower, falling to the small of your back and pushed your body completely against his. his other hand caressed your jaw, soothing you enough to allow him to control the kiss, as he flicked his tongue at the seam of your lips. you shakily sighed, allowing him entrance and the kiss deepened, a pleased humming noise in the back of your throat escaping.
you impatiently shift side to side on top of the pillow, not yet allowing yourself to get any friction. sliding both of your hands underneath your sweater—well, max’s sweater, and you start playing with your chest. flicking gently at your nipples, just the way you like.
you could feel charles chuckle into the kiss, but you dismiss it, and keep kissing at him eagerly. however, you failed to recognize that he wasn’t laughing at you, he was laughing at max. cockily making eye-contact with him, before he let his eyes flutter shut and devoted his attention to you.
max stared on, his mouth slightly open as he watched his two loves give him a show for free. charles’ hand slipped lower, gliding over your ass, across your criminally well-fitted jeans, and found its home on the back of your thigh. max is well acquainted with how skilled charles’ mouth is, so he knows he must have done something spectacular to cause a choked-off moan to escape you, your hand raised to grab at charles’ polo in a fist, wrinkling the pressed shirt. max huffed, deciding to no longer spectate, and took the few steps to reach you across the foyer.
you let out a shocked gasp, eyes fluttering open in surprise at the feeling of your other boyfriend pressed up against your back. you attempt to break the kiss, but charles doesn’t let you. hand slipping from your cheeks to the nape of your neck, tangling in the hairs there and keeping you exactly where he wants. one of max’s hands came to rest at your hip, while the other rested on your navel. your eyes fell shut again in pleasure at how charles gently nipped at your bottom lip, and max’s presence is pushed to the back of your mind.
you didn’t register max’s hand disappearing from your abdomen, but suddenly, the air was cut with a pained moan from charles and his lips were ripped away from yours.
your eyes flew open, and max’s hand was buried in charles’ hair, tugging his head backward and maneuvering it into what must be an almost uncomfortable angle, but with how pleased charles looked—you wanted to feel it too. his eyes rolled backwards, before he pressed them shut and re-opened them to reveal dilated pupils and half-lidded lashes; panting hard, lips covered with your shared spit, and a fucked-out look in his eyes.
you struggle to pull off your sleeping shorts, eventually managing to tug them off to reveal your white cotton panties. your hand leaves your breast to touch at your heat, and you’re shocked at how wet you’ve gotten already. you use that same hand to adjust your pillow, before you let your hips fall all the way and make contact with the pillow. you sigh in relief.
now, max is the one to laugh with his hand firmly keeping charles in place. “oh, you know better than to tease me charlie…” he started, and you barely heard him. fixated on the way charles’ tongue frequently slips out to lick at his lips, but you could hear the smirk max was wearing.
“and you’re also not the only one leaving our sweet girl for a month. you should be nice and let me have a taste too, hm? isn’t that right, schatje?” he directs at charles. max’s other hand made its way up your abdomen, copping a feel at your chest, before it rested across your throat. he wasn’t squeezing at all, but the weight of his hand, how it spans across your neck, and how you can feel the strength lying underneath his skin, caused you to lose your breath. he guided your head back and dropped his to get his own goodbye kiss.
the kiss felt like it lasted for a lifetime, but realistically it had to be less than a minute of max forcing charles to watch how he ravaged your mouth, before charles started whining loudly. max patted your neck gingerly before pulling away and laughing at charles’ teary eyes. your legs were trembling and you were pretty sure if max wasn’t behind you, you would’ve fallen long ago. in one smooth motion, his hand fell to the monegasque’s throat from his hair and pulled him closer, completely sandwiching you between them, as their lips met in a wild kiss.
your hips start to rock against the pillow, keeping it slow in the beginning, learning your lesson about friction burn the last time you got too erratic with your moves too quickly.
charles—completely desperate—whined deep in his throat and max kept pulling consistently depraved moans and grunts out of your boyfriend. max’s other hand moved off of your hip to smack at charles’, a nonverbal command for him to calm down and let max take care of him. you felt charles practically vibrating against you in need, but he slowly started to calm; his posture slackening and lips slowing, allowing the dutch full control.
the two of them were completely ignoring you. caught in their own world, putting all of their energy into their kisses, and in turn gave you a front row seat to something you're never going to forget about. you felt so small in between the two of them, like the only thing that kept you from floating away is the fact that you were stuck in between their bodies.
eventually, max released his grip on charles and separated from the kiss, giving charles air to breathe. the blonde stepped backwards away from your body, and you stumbled embarrassingly. max’s hands went up to hover around your waist (suddenly so shy to touch you) to make sure you actually didn't fall. charles shook his head, physically trying to clear the haze in his mind before he stumbled away from you as well, pressing his back against the wall.
his chest was heaving with exertion, cheeks flushed a pretty red color, while his hands went to tug at his uncomfortably tight pants, failing to adjust himself to make his erection less obvious. he suddenly turns shy as well—it probably doesn’t help that max was laughing at how easy he is to turn on—, and charles tries to try and tug his shirt down to cover up his problem as best as he can.
your hips start to pick up in speed, movements more sure and less shaky. the friction between the cotton pillowcase and panties is multiplied on your cunt, and when you rock down deep enough, the catch of the panties on your clit is nearly immobilizing.
thinking about the moment before your boys left leads you into fantasizing about their dynamic, and how they are in the bedroom. that morning alone proved who was actually in charge; charles will tease and take whatever he can, as long as max allows him to. you can recall many instances of max guiding a well-fucked charles out of the bedroom and depositing him on your lap, before he went on to clean up and run the monegasque a bath.
the multiple post-sex facetimes you’ve gotten from the two when they’re across the world always starts with max softly speaking, “i’ve worn him out pretty good, but he refuses to fall asleep unless he gets to call you.” and the phone is passed to charles, who’s voice and lips are ruined to hell and you have to decipher what he’s attempting to say.
you’re starting to acclimate to the current tempo, so you pick it up another notch. you lean forward, bracing your hands on the bed for support as you focus on doing deeper and slower grinds against the pillow, allowing your clit to get constant attention.
you find comfort in the fact that charles allows max to take him to such a vulnerable state, and sometimes—you even find yourself getting jealous. you started joining them to see their aftercare for yourself, and found out that you're aching to be taken apart and put back together like max and charles do to each other.
the sound of max’s constant praises of charles being “so good for him,” and charles’s constant stream of “thank you, thank you, maxy” has you losing all train of thought.
you abandon the slow-and-steady technique, you’ve tried it several times this month and it’s failed to get you to come. you bite your lip, letting out a frustrated groan. your hips slow, and you grab the front of the pillow with one hand and pull it upwards, hoping that a tighter space allows better friction. you start moving quicker, doing smaller more shallow motions and it’s tons better. you can’t stop thinking that it would be even better to ride charles’ face.
even though your eyelids are scrunched shut, the thousands of tiktok edits you’ve seen of your boyfriends post-race; balaclava lines, sweaty, messy hair, and all—are playing behind them. you moan out desperately, toes curling in your socks. you hear the phantom noises of monegasque moans along with the imagined whispers of dutch-accented praises.
the knot in your navel tightens, your thighs begin to tremble, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. this is it, the feeling that’s escaped you for a month, it’s returning, you can finally come.
you start to rut against the pillow, uncaring of how your wetness has seeped into the pillow cover and sticks against your thighs—if anything, it’s just another pleasant sensation. unfiltered squeals and gasps start slipping out, you’re too blissed out to regulate your volume at this point.
but then, a minute passes and you still haven’t fallen over the precipice. it’s right there; you can see it, you can even hear it, but you can’t fucking feel it.
your moans of pleasure turn into cries of frustration. your legs start to quiver with exhaustion, and the orgasm you almost had fades. tears spill from your eyes, as you frantically rut against the soaked pillow, not caring about rhythm or technique anymore. and your chance is gone, your sobs echoing around the room at another failed attempt.
you climb off the pillow and fall on your side, crying into the towel trying to muffle your anguished noises. you have the fleeting thought to think that you're overreacting, but fuck that. you’ve literally been unwillingly denying yourself for a month.
after you’ve cried yourself out, you get up and start to clean up the mess you made. when you lean down to pick up the shorts you flung across the room, you hear jimmy and sassy start yowling outside of the room. and faintly, you hear the front door open.
fuck.
a giggle slips out of charles as the cries of the cats are heard outside of the apartment door. max shoots a glare at charles for laughing at his children, before he loses the fight and a smile slips out in response to the monegasque’s. finally managing to slip the key into the lock, max speaks, “we’re supposed to surprise her by being early, cha—maybe we should’ve let the cat’s know when we called earlier today?” they step through the threshold, quickly shutting the door behind them so the cats won’t run out. charles makes a questioning hum as they both start slipping out their jackets, “they are cats, mon minou. i do not think they care about anything other than when you come back to feed them.”
max side eyes him heavily as he squats down to untie his sneakers, and looks around slightly confused, “i think we are missing a greeting from one more kitten, wouldn't you say, charles?” the man in question nods in agreement, while finally petting jimmy and sassy to calm them down a little bit. whenever the two of them return home, you usually race to the door along with the cats. you give them warm hugs and sweet kisses, help them take their jackets off, and let them know if you cooked a meal for them, or prepared a bath.
but tonight, they don’t hear the sound of your footsteps coming towards them. it’s rare for them not to be greeted at the door, most of the time you beat them to unlocking it, with the alarm system the cats provide.
charles questions, “maybe she fell asleep? we did not tell her that we moved our flight earlier. and we did tell her to go to bed because we would be arriving late.”
max snorts disbelievingly, “when has she ever gone to bed when we’ve told her to,” he starts, “she’s probably just in the bathroom or something.”
the two spend a few minutes paying some attention to the cats, before they begin to get suspicious at the fact that you still haven’t come to welcome them back. they straighten up and start heading towards the bedroom.
max pushes the door open, and everything looks normal except for the fact that you’re nowhere to be seen. the bed is put together, one nightstand lamp is on, and the bathroom is empty. max and charles stare at each other with matching baffled expressions, before you clear your throat in the doorway.
max jumps, “shit!” and charles flinches, “oh, what the fuck!”
your giggles reverberate through the air, and the two men can only laugh along with you. “oh? so you find scaring us funny, schat?” max teases gently. you pad over to him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him in for a tight hug, nodding softly into his neck as you breathe him in. charles huffs after he’s deemed that you spent too much time loving on max before he pulls you into his own grasp, one arm braced tightly around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head resting in his chest. “she’s absolutely frightening, max, can’t you tell?” he teases back, defending you jokingly.
max hums, “definitely. where were you hiding, baby?”
you freeze for second as you pull away from charles’ grasp, before stuttering your way through an explanation, “u-uh oh, i was-um, i was just in the laundry room! i was just putting a few things i had accidentally spilled uh- spilled juice on-yes juice of course, in the uh-washing machine, yes,” you nod firmly, to fully convince them.
the monegasques raises an eyebrow at you and dragged out an, “…….okay, i guess?” max follows up with a sarcastic, “yeah….we definitely believe you!”
you narrow your eyes at him, “are you calling me a liar, max? because, why would i lie about—“
charles cuts you off, turning your head back towards him as he squints at your face. he runs his thumb underneath one of your eyes, and speaks softly, “were you crying, mon ange? your eyes are red and swollen.”
you shake your head rapidly to attempt to dismiss his worry but it’s already too late. max practically teleports to your side and scans your face and with a gasp he reveals, “yes, you did cry. i can still see the tears stained on your cheeks.”
you shift uncomfortably, “yes, okay! i did cry! but it was nothing serious,” you pause and mumble the last part of your sentence, “i was just overreacting anyways, it doesn’t matter.”
max smacks his teeth at you disapprovingly, “hey, don’t be mean to yourself, schatje. anything that causes you to cry does matter. tell us, and we can try and make it better for you.” the two boys wear you down with earnest eyes; the monegasque brushes his lips against your hand comfortingly and the dutchman tucks your hair behind your ears soothingly. they wait patiently and don’t attempt to push you any further, but there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of them; they won’t let this go until you explicitly ask them two. and suddenly, your resistance falls and words start rushing out of your mouth.
“im so tired, okay? i’ve been trying for ages, ages, and i can’t get there! everytime i try, i-i-it’s like i’m right there–right there! and then it never comes! it’s torture. the harder i try to reach for it, the more it slips away, and then it doesn’t even feel good anymore! i thought this was supposed to feel good–and now what’s the point?! i don’t even wanna try again if i’m just going to be–”
“woah, woah, woah.” max cuts you off, “what are we talking about exactly, schatje? have you not been getting enough sleep or something? because we can try and–" you interrupt, “NO! i haven’t came in a MONTH! are you even listening to me?!”
charles chokes on his own breath and max damn near faints. most importantly, they’re shaken at your bluntness around the topic; every time they try to ask if you’ve been finding…relief–for lack of a better word, you tend to snap shut if they use any ‘explicit’ words with you– you tell them not to worry about it. so, to hear you say it plainly reveals how much distress this has been causing you. secondly, the thought that you’ve been desperately trying to get off for a month on your own, is a paralyzing thought. they nearly convinced themselves that you had no idea about anything sexual due to your refusal to answer any of their questions—which there would be nothing wrong with, they’d be happy to teach you how to please them and them alone. it’s a seductive thought, the fact that you’re untouched, that no man has had the opportunity to taint you and ruin your perspective on how you should receive and give pleasure. they’ve been praying for the day you’d be ready to let them teach you how to be good for them. maybe that makes them monsters, for taking advantage of your naivety and innocence, and molding you into their perfect girl, but they stopped feeling guilty for desiring this long ago.
you seem to have missed the fact that you sent their minds reeling and continue venting, “i don’t know what to do, maxy! i’ve been doing the same thing, and it’s NEVER failed me before. it’s cruel that it stopped working when you guys left me for more than a month! no matter how i did it–if i did the exact same things i’ve always been doing, or tried something new, nothing worked! i was literally just considering buying a fucking vibrator! a vibrator, charles, i’d rather run naked in the street than buy that online and have to put in this delivery address–”
charles gently presses finger against your mouth, shushing you. he pulls you into a deep hug, rubbing a hand up and down the length of your back , the motion pacifying you. he hums, and it vibrates through his chest to yours, “mmm, we’re home now, mon ange. there’s no need to run in the streets naked–” “definitely not,” max jumps in, reacting possessively at the implication of other people seeing you undressed. charles rolls his eyes and continues (like he’s not just as jealous as max), “or buy a vibrator. i know it must be so frustrating, to not cum,” you gasp softly, “especially when you’ve been edging yourself accidentally for so long, hm?”
a questioning sound slips from your lips, “hm? what’s edging? i just haven’t,” your voice drops to a whisper, “cum.” max thinks that he’s seriously fucked-up in the head, because he watches how you bury your face into charles’s chest after your whispered word, refusing to make eye contact with them out of embarrassment; and relishes at the fact that you absolutely have no idea about what exactly you’ve been doing to yourself. he’s going to enjoy ruining teaching you everything he knows.
“edging is repeated instances of sexual stimulation and stopping before your orgasm. it’s called that because you are kept ‘on the edge.’ you can do it to yourself or with others,” max states in an unfazed manner. he sees you start to relax, knowing that you find comfort in his matter-of-fact tone.
a pout lowers your lips, “who would enjoy that? it feels terrible.”
max breaks out in a grin, slipping an arm around charles and squeezing at his tapered waist, “you know somebody who enjoys it very much, liefje,” charles blushes at the sudden call out, and watches the way your eyes widen in shock. max continues, “anyways, you may find that you enjoy it when it’s done properly—with people who are experienced enough to make sure you’re feeling good and keep you feeling good… and show you how to have a proper orgasm, hm?” max segways into the important topic, not allowing you to deflect any longer.
charles stops your attempt at hiding in his broad shoulder this time around, and firmly holds your face to keep you facing max. the dutch give charles a nod of appreciation and watches how he shifts on his feet at the acknowledgement; he might have to take care of him after he’s done with you, too. max allows your eyes to avoid meeting his, letting them roam his face as you battle your own insecurity.
“liefje,” max deepens his tone, knowing how you melt at any pitch similar to his morning voice, “there is no need to be embarrassed about your virginity and innocence. you had your boundaries set, and never bent or broke them to make someone happy at the cost of your comfort. no matter how much pressure someone applied to you, you refused to let them have you in one of the most vulnerable positions you could ever be in because you felt unsure or plainly uncomfortable with them. that is something you should take pride in and no one should make a joke out of your virginity for that instance. tonight, you can still make that decision if you are not completely sure on allowing charles and i the privilege of teaching you how to feel satisfied. we will continue to wait for you; you have the power here, not charles or i. do what is best for you at this moment, and if that changes, tell us so, and we will continue or stop at your will.”
the room is silent as the three of you digest max’s spiel. charles and max seem to be completely nonchalant about the matter, but they are trying to hide how anxious they are about your possible refusal, for your sake. of course they are hoping that you’ll accept their helping hands, or lips, or tongues, or coc—but, that’s not their main intention tonight. the goal is for them to start building a deeper level of understanding and trust with you, to where you allow yourself to be in your most vulnerable state with them. and that will take time; they’re not expecting you to completely reveal your innermost workings to them instantaneously. however, they most definitely want to show you how good they can make you feel and how good you can make them feel. and once you internalize that, then they can start working on showing you the wonders of sex—or plainly put, they can start tainting you.
you nod. charles eyes brighten and his cheeks dimple with the appearance of a wild smile. he leans in to kiss you in thanks, but max halts him with one finger to the forehead and a quick ‘aht aht,’ “that won’t do, liefje, i need verbal confirmation—words, please.”
“y-you can…you can help s-show and teach me how to…how to feel good. i am ready to have…,” your voice thins out, and suddenly you shake your head, eyes meeting max’s straight on in an unusual act of confidence, clearing your throat, “i am ready for us to have—i’m ready for you to fuck me.”
max wasn’t exactly ready for that wording and faltered, a little shook. charles on the other hand has to struggle to refrain from laughter. at the mixed reaction, your bravado slips away, and you add, “please?” charles loses the laugh automatically; your timid but desperate widened brown doe eyes stare up at the two of them, flickering between them anxiously, plump lips parted with your tongue flicking out—he has a few ideas of something he can offer to keep that mouth of yours busy.
max rumbles in satisfaction, “see, that wasn’t so hard, was it pretty girl? we’ll work on that confidence of yours for sure—but, i have a few rules for you first before we get started. charles, why don’t you tell our girl the first two?”
“number one, always answer our questions with words; if you don’t, we’ll stop and wait for you to respond. two, if you feel uncomfortable at any point, tell us, and we’ll stop what we’re doing and make it better for you or stop completely if necessary,” charles answers assuredly.
you nod, and max raises an eyebrow at you, “i mean, yes!”
max praises you, “you’re already doing so good for us,” he watches your breath catch at the sentence and figures he may have another praise kink on his hands, “you wanna be a good girl and tell me what you were really doing before we came home?” your cheeks burn and your previous embarrassment returns full force, but you fight through it, not wanting to break the rules right off the bat.
“well, you remember how i said my usual method wasn’t working anymore? i wasn’t lying about that. i only g-get off when you guys leave, andidoitbygrindingonapillow—and i have to put down a towel before becauseimakeamess. so! i really was doing laundry, i just didn’t spill juice on it…i kinda, spilled on it.”
charles’ hands fall away from you in shock, and max really doesn’t know if he can handle another revelation like this from you without actually passing out. you continue to over-explain, “and i i-i didn’t even get to, y’ know (oh my god, she soaked the pillow without even cumming, max!), and i got that wet anyway…and i can’t really control it, but if you guys don’t like it i can try and—“
“NO!” “PLEASE DON’T!”
you flinch away, and they apologize heavily for their overreaction.
“please, don’t, mon ange. i can tell you that max and i aren’t ever going to hate what’s between your legs, or what comes from there,” charles suggests with a smirk, before his face shifts to a more blank state “wait. did…did you have a chance to change?” you hum a little “mm-mm” glancing down at yourself still clad in max’s sweater and cotton panties, “uhm. no, i was a little more concerned with cleaning up the bed before you guys saw it so—sorry, i’m not a little more presentable—“
“are you wearing the same panties, mon ange?”
you freeze, brain lagging at what the monegasque had noticed. “mhm, yeah,” you whisper softly, playing with the hem of the sweater self-soothingly.
“can i,” charles takes a deep breath, “can i touch you, mon coeur?”
you squeak, “yes please, charlie.”
max watches as charles places his massive hand on one of your thighs, spanning the front with no struggle, and gently caresses his hand up, slowly making his way up your thigh. charles taps two fingers gently against you, and you spread your legs a smidge wider, and the sound of your thighs peeling off one another from the stickiness you leaked, reverberates around the room. max can’t help but let a moan slip out. charles slides his hand in between your legs, both of your own hands fisting at the hem of your borrowed sweatshirt, and you gasp at the lightest touch of charles pointer and middle finger against your soaked panties. max sees charles pupils blow wide and mouth drop open in awe—and he can’t wait anymore.
max presses his front to your back, sandwiching you in between them once again, and impatiently asks, “schatje, can i?” you let out a breathy ‘yeah,’ and max doesn’t hesitate to bully his hand in between your legs as well. he cops a more generous feel of your cunt, and groans at the state of ruin your panties are in.
“liefje,” max starts, “walk with me to the bed, please.” max pulls away, and unfastens one of your hands from the sweater to guide you. you turn around stumbling through your first few steps—charles sets you upright more prepared for your legs becoming jello than you are, and helps you over to the bed, one hand firmly set on the small of your back. max sits on the edge of the bed, man spreading comfortably, and watches how your eyes automatically fall to stare at his thighs with a smirk. he glances at charles behind you, who mouths ‘can’t blame her’ with a smirk of his own. the dutch pats his lap, “c’mere and give me a kiss, pretty girl.”
you rush to sit in his lap, slowing at the last minute, not wanting to sit your full weight on him. he huffs, and grabs at your hips situating you firmly on his lap, before leaning in and kissing you stupid. your gasp of shock transforms into a hum of pleasure, letting max have complete control of the kiss. his hand comes up to rest on the back of your head and moves you exactly where he wants, sucking on your bottom lip before slipping his tongue against yours. max kisses like he’s going to run out of time, he ravishes you completely. you squirm against him, pulling away to pant against his cheek needing air. max chuckles, and you only get to whine at his teasing for half a second before charles, who’s now sitting next to max, pulls you into another kiss. charles, on the other hand, kisses like he has all the time in the world, he draws it out. he keeps the kisses slow and closed in the beginning, pausing to pull away and thumb at your lips, relishing at how they’ve already swelled from max’s abuse, the surrounding skin already beginning to turn raw and sensitive from their friction of their facial hair. he continues kissing you, all tongue and sloppy not caring about about the way your hands come up to grasp at his chest in desperation, before switching to absolutely bruise your lips by nipping and tugging at them.
your hips jump forward against max’s, and he can’t stop the groan that tumbles out. you jolt away from charles’ assault and stare at max with an embarrassed expression, “s-sorry—“ max narrows his eyes and dismisses your apology, “don’t apologize for that. you feel good, you’re allowed to show that unless i tell you differently.”
“yes, max,” you answer, even though he didn’t ask a question.
“oh, you’re such a good girl for us, liefje,” he tests. and his instincts didn’t fail him. your hips twitch against his again, and a near inaudible moan slips from your lips.
he turns towards charles, “yeah, that works doesn’t it, cha?” charles nods, eyes still stuck on your lips. max smirks at charles being completely entranced, before turning back to you and clocks the glaze beginning to form over your eyes, “alright now, liefje, i need you to pay attention to me really quickly, hm?”
you hum, bobbing your head a few times, before you manage to get out a “yes, max.”
he holds your head steady with his thumb and pointer finger gripping your chin, “i’m not going anywhere, baby, take your time and focus.” it only takes you half a minute to truly focus in after your heart stops racing to give him another verbal confirmation before he continues. “tonight, neither one of us is going to make love to you—“ your shoulders drop and a frown is quick to spread across your mouth. you really only prepared for the situation that you’d tell them you were ready, and then you’d get railed into next sunday. you start to panic; maybe you came off too depraved, and he’s letting you down slowly—
“hey, hey, hey. no overthinking yet, let him finish, mon ange,” charles calls out to you worriedly, he’s experienced the same thought process you're going through before and would rather try and prevent the self-doubt from overtaking you.
max pets at your waist over the sweater and continues, “not tonight. we’ve just gotten off a flight, and had three back to back races. it’s late, and i’m sure all three of us are tired. we should initiate something like that with a clearer mind,” you feel a little selfish now, his points very valid, “but, i still want to give you an orgasm, okay? sure, you may not be able to get off by grinding on a pillow anymore. you’ve probably just acclimated to it and need to give it a break. so, to compromise: you’ll get off by riding my thigh.”
charles and max wait for your reaction. your frown lightens into a pout, but you’re disappointment doesn’t completely fade away. “how is that any different from riding the pillow? it’s the same thing.” charles laughs shakily, “oh, mon ange. you have no idea. listen to max and give it a try before you take it off the table completely.”
you shrug, and agree, “fine. how do i….uh how do i do the thigh riding, i guess?”
charles turns to look at max, wordlessly asking for permission, and max grants it with a wave of his hand. charles scoots up closer, and shifts your straddle from max’s whole lap to his right thigh. as soon as your pantie-covered cunt firmly presses on the muscle of max’s jean-clad thigh, a soft ‘oh’ croaks out of you. max flexes and relaxes his thigh once and your hips jump up and away from him. max and charles glance at each other; you’re ridiculously sensitive, they’ll have to see if that’s your natural state or if it’s just the result of your prolonged edging and the fact that you were grinding against a pillow not too long ago. charles squeezes your hips, bringing your attention to him, “i’m going to start guiding you now, you ready, mon coeur?”
“mmm, yeah—that felt really good, i want more,” you speak timidly.
“good,” charles states, and then he pulls your hips forward dragging you against max’s thigh, and a flash of heat zings up your spine. you moan, a small, breathy exhale, and charles keeps it slow at first, not pushing you down to roughly or making the motions too quick—he wants you to learn to love the friction again. barely a minute passes before your hips start fighting charles’ guided rhythm, and a frustrated groan slips out of you, not able to fight your boyfriends grip. max clocks back in from where he was watching the pleasure start to flicker on your face and asks, “what are you supposed to do, baby?”
“more-ah, please, charlie,” you moan shakily. charles smirks, “look at you, still using your manners like a good girl—“ a louder moan echoes, “okay, okay, mon coeur. i’ll get you there, i’ll get you to cum like you need, okay? i’ll make you forget all about your manners too, hmm?”
you stopped listening to anything after charles reassured you that he’s going to get you to cum, you believe him. he adjusts his grip on your hips and starts incrementally increasing the pace and pressure for you. your moans start to become more frequent, and increasing in pitch rapidly, the drivers can tell you’re hurtling towards your long-awaited orgasm, sooner than they thought. charles slowly releases his grip on your waist letting your hips take over once he’s sure you’ve gotten the hang of it. you throw your head back in pleasure, your hips have a steady grind and…and you’re feeling good. a suprised laugh slips out of your lips at that and shifts into a sharp moan when max starts flexing his thigh rhythmically giving you a little more texture to work with. max lets his heavy hands fill in for where charles’ and presses you down into deeper slower strokes.
you cry out, it’s a little too much for you, but it feels so good, that you bear with it, they know what’s best for you, anyways. max grins down at you smugly, and you start to tear up a little; he can still feel your hips twitching away from the pressure sometimes. not wanting to push you too far with that motion alone, he lightens up on the pressure but starts bouncing his thigh. the shriek you release surprises all three of you, but you don’t run from it, if anything you lean into it more. one of your hands fists into charles’ shirt for support, and the other falls to max’s, tugging it off your left hip so you can hold it tight. max’s grin softens into a small smile and he kisses your joined hands, and charles leans into press kisses on your neck, praise slipping out of their lips freely.
“doing so good for us, pretty girl.”
“yeah, baby, that’s it. take what you need.”
“don’t be shy, let those sweet moans out for us.”
“just like that, oh! look at that, you’ve leaked all over his thigh,” charles points out. max looks down and registers that his pant leg is sticking down to his thigh and the denim has darkened with the amount of wetness. “oh, yeah. look at that, baby,” max pats on the side of your face, and you can’t even recall when you screwed your eyes shut, but you look down, and a mortified squeal leaves you. not much longer and you’ll have drowned his thigh. the dutchman sucks his teeth at you, “don’t be embarrassed, liefje. i can’t wait until i can taste it straight from the source,” he moves his other hand underneath the sweatshirt, and slips two fingers between your inner thigh while gathering your wetness. he sucks on one finger moaning explicitly at your taste, before offering both fingers to charles to clean off. the monegasque flicks his tongue out teasingly tasting them first, before he makes a quick motion of sucking them in and fully running his tongue in every crevice to get every last drop of your taste.
you moans start to become pitchy little ah-ah-ah’s, and you frantically start rabbiting your hips. you’re so close. max squeezes you hand, and starts up the praise again.
“i wasn’t joking, schatje. when i finally get my mouth on your pretty little cunt, you won’t be able to pull me off of you until i force at least three orgasms out of you.”
charles pulls off of max’s fingers and adds, “i need to give her three or four from my mouth too. i don’t think she’ll be able to handle that many.”
“yes, she can. she’s such a good girl for us, she’d let us keep going until we tell her when she’s done.”
“mmm, yeah—she’s right there, look at that cute little face she’s making.”
“her pretty little o-mouth, we should fill that up for her too.”
“thinkin i’ll fill that sweet little cunt of hers first with my dick—“
what escapes your mouth is definitely a scream, and max can’t bring himself to muffle it even though it’s the middle of the night. he pays a hefty sum of money for this penthouse, they can deal with hearing how charles and him make you scream with pleasure. your orgasm completely whites-out all of your senses; ears ringing, eyes rolled back, skin feeling raw and thighs shaking. max and charles work your hips back and forth a few more times, helping you with the aftershocks until you squirm out of their hands. you fall forward into max’s chest, body trembling, and tears streaming down your face.
max cradles you close and scratches at your head, calling your name a few times to get a gauge of how out of it you are. with no verbal response, he sends charles to get water and a towel to clean you up. max softly murmurs praises at you constantly, and charles joins in with the affirmations when he returns. the both clean you up when you’re still floating; they put you in an oversized tee, not bothering with undergarments, wiping all wetness and cream away from between your legs trying to avoid looking at your cunt directly, they even manage to get your bonnet on for you, and even have time to change the duvet before you start becoming aware again.
you turn and automatically move to snuggle into the crook of max’s neck, but he gently presses a straw to your mouth so you can hydrate after the amount of fluids you seem to have lost. your eyes open, and you croak out a disapproving hum at not being able to go to sleep, and max shakes his head at you, “drink, schat. non-negotiable, pretty girl.” after slowly draining ¾ of the bottle, you pull away and with a shattered voice, start mumbling, “thank you, thank you, thank you—“
and charles leans over to cut you off with a soft press of lips, “no, thank you for letting us give you that, mon coeur.” you hum, whispering out, “i love you, charlie. i love you, maxy.”
they both respond with resounding ‘i-love-you’s back, and start soft conversation just checking up on you before they let you fall asleep.
“i’ve never felt this good before from an orgasm,” you start, “i wanna—i wanna keep being good for you guys. i wanna learn how to feel good like this again, and i want you both to show me how because i trust you. please?”. charles and max both murmur affirmatives to you, and you continue speaking softly, “you guys can take showers now, i’ll probably be asleep before you come back.” after making sure you’re truly comfortable, max and charles head to the en-suite to take the world’s speediest shower so they can cuddle up with you sooner.
shutting the door, max and charles stare at each other in completely silence. charles starts, “are we sure that we’re the ones corrupting her and she’s not corrupting us? because, i’ve almost came in my pants three times tonight.”
max stares at charles with unseeing eyes, “i will never forgot the way she soaked my fucking leg, charles…i’m pretty sure i did come in my pants.”
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#f1 smut#charles leclerc#charles leclerc smut#max verstappen#max verstappen smut#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#lestappen#charles leclerc x female reader#max verstappen x female reader#charles leclerc x black!reader#max verstappen x black!reader#poly!formula 1#poly f1#f1 x reader#f1 x black!reader#f1 x female reader#formula 1 x reader#charles leclerc fanfic#max verstappen fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fanfiction#serene’s chapters.#serene’s fave.#⋆⭒˚。⋆. series special: formula 1#♡ ༘*.゚ love interest: cl.#♡ ༘*.゚ love interest: mv.#httpss :// kinktober 23
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Damsel in Distress? — Logan Howlett Smut Oneshot (TEASER)
I got an anonymous inbox about how they're obsessed over 2017 logan... I started writing underneath that anonymous tip but it turns out... it's going to be longer than I intended to write.. but I couldn't wait to show it to you guys so here you go, just a piece of what's about to cum ;)
SMUT! MDNI. NONCON
“Are you wearing this dress on purpose? To catch anyone’s perverted mind’s attention?” Logan taunts back, this time he leans forward.
“What if i told you, I am?”
“Is that why you don’t fight them back?”
“No. I don’t fight them back because it’s a waste of time.” You answered, shrugging your shoulders.
“You liked being saved.”
You smirked a little bit, “I do not.”
“How many times somebody has saved you in the past then you invite them over for, this?” Your smirk only grows wider.
“Yeah.. I’ve heard about you. You’re the infamous maneater.” Logan’s voice turning low.
“Does it turn you on?” Like a wind just blew past him, you’re straddling his lap as he lean back against the cushion. “It turns me on. I know you too.” You smirked, slowly grinding your pussy against his clothed cock.
“You’re not wearing any panties.” Logan smirked, looking at you. “It’s like you’re begging to be fucked.”
“You damn right I am. I bet you could smell it, don’t you.” You inched closer to his face, staring down to his lips.
Suddenly, Logan pulls away rather harshly and pushed you off. “Well I’m not going to be the next guy. See ya later kid.” He spit, ready to make his way out but suddenly, his body froze.
He couldn’t move his body on his own. All of a sudden he find himself sitting back down. He's fighting for his life to gain control of his body. Veins popping out on his forehead, he looks frantic. He really isn’t in control anymore.
“I’m not just a mind reader.” You lick your lips and cockily tips your head to the side like a maniac. “I’m a mind controller.” You proudly spoke.
Logan grunted, still fighting his way out of your control. “Just give in, you’re not gonna win. I’ll take it slow for you, pops.” You winked as he watches you with anger written all over his face.
You put yourself back on his lap and begin to grind your wet cunt against his clothed cock. “Your body says otherwise.” You teased. You could feel him growing underneath you, the tent now becomes a rather large bulge.
Your heart beats in anticipation, excited as you can feel how big his cock is even though you haven’t even unzipped his pants just yet.
“Argh,” Logan groaned, leaning his head back, his eyes wide open trying to fight the lustful sensation slowly entering his body.
“Mmh..” You closed your eyes, your hips kept moving back and forth, grinding your pussy against his now very hard bulge. You stopped and lift yourself up, slowly getting down on your knees while your eyes fixated on his. Watching you with horror in his eyes.
Your hands reached to grab button of his pants before you unzipped it slowly. Looking at him with your famous adorable pout that somehow always gets them men to succumbed underneath your authority.
“I really.. Really want to thank you, Logan.”
🫣🫣
Finish it?
#Malavera#logan howlett smut#logan x reader#logan smut#logan howlett#logan howlett imagine#wolverine#logan james howlett#logan howlett dirty imagine#logan howlett oneshot#hugh jackman#hugh jackman smut#hugh jackman dirty imagine#hugh jackman oneshot
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No One Fucks With My Baby
pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller (based on established back story from my oneshot Who We Are)
description: everyone now knows that you are joel's girl. when you're working a busy night at the bison, a newbie stirs up a bit of trouble. joel handles it the only way he knows how and you thank him the only way you know how.
word count: 3.8k
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, drunk old men who harass reader, joel fucks them up, mentions of blood, glass breaking (?), voyeurism, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, pet names
author's note: this fic is dedicated to the birthday girl @ilovepedro !!! happy birthday sweet nini, I love you so much! thank you for helping me edit this, but more importantly, thank you for being a wonderful friend. you make the world a better place. love you always <3
after the amazing love I got on "Who We Are", I decided to add to the universe. let me know if y'all want more! xoxo, gracie
“Didn’t know they made jeans that low cut!”
You were used to stupid comments made towards you by drunk men. But now that Joel has made it known, you are his, a lot of the men in Jackson kept their advances to themselves. The gentleman at the end of the bar must not know that your big ole’ scary boyfriend was positioned in a booth with Tommy and your father across the room. His eyes had been locked on you for most of the night, and every time he and the guys needed more drinks, he’d be the one to grab more.
You turn to the drunk man, who had to be your father’s age. He’s practically drooling at the sight of your ass in your favorite jeans. The summer air was not a good combination to a normally humid bar, so you had been wearing less and less clothes behind the bar. You were sporting the jeans and a tighter tank top than usual, mainly because you knew Joel would be around and you loved driving him wild when the shirt rode up on you.
“You’re gonna catch flies if you don’t close your mouth,” You joke, pouring whiskey for another patron, “Don’t think you’d like the way that would taste.”
The man slams down his glass which causes a couple people to look down at him. You don’t even glance in his direction, knowing if he’s mad, he can take it up with every man in the Tipsy Bison.
“I don’t take too kindly to sarcastic little sluts.”
Your heart stops. You calmly place the whiskey bottle down beside the shot glass you were pouring into and glance towards the red faced prick. You hear the conversations subside around the room while you lock eyes with the guy who’s bold enough to talk shit to you.
You know Joel’s already standing up from his spot at his booth, but you move quicker. You position yourself in front of him, leaning over the bar, your eyes raking down the pathetic boy in front of you.
“Pardon?”
He swallows, realizing how quiet his surroundings got. “I s-said I don’t take kindly to sarcasm.”
You click your tongue, a newfound confidence surging through your body, “I don’t think that’s all you said. Somethin’ about me being a slut?”
“Listen, girl-”
His boots are loud against the hardwood as he approaches you and the man. He stands scarily close to the barstool where the man sits. You don’t break eye contact though, wanting to handle this situation yourself.
“It’s ma’am, to you,” You cut him off, “I think it’s best if you leave.”
“I haven’t finished my drin-”
Joel reaches around the guy and grabs the whiskey glass from in front of him and slams it on the floor. The guy immediately starts to tremble, shaking like a little leaf. You crack a smile before whispering one final thing to him.
“Think you’re finished, buddy,” You flick your eyes up at Joel, who’s fury is written all over his face, “Mind walkin’ him out, baby?”
Joel grabs onto the guys shoulder with a bruising grip, “Would be my pleasure, sweetheart.”
He rips the guy from the stool, not even making sure the guy finds his footing. You ignore the shuffle outside and return to your pouring. You feel like your heart may beat out of your chest, but you’re relieved it was handled before Joel got even more handsy with him. You grab the shot glass and hand it to the fellow that was sat by the drunken fool.
“You got Miller wrapped around your finger,” The guy, who’s name you think is Aaron, says. He was a regular and frequently stopped Joel to talk about morning patrols. You smirk before snatching a rag off your shoulder.
“Yeah, he’s so wrapped around my finger that he’s gonna clean up all that broken glass.” You joke, wiping down the condensation ring the glasses left on the wooden table top.
You hear some footsteps approaching and when you look up it’s Tommy. He’s shaking his head, a grin playing on his lips.
“Where’s the broom? Joel seems busy putting that guy in his place.”
You furrow your brows as you reach for the broom, “What do you mean?”
“I just sent your Dad out there because it sounded like some rustlin’,” Tommy explains, grabbing the stick from you to begin sweeping up the shards, “I’m sure they are handlin’ it.”
Before you can get nervous, you hear the front door swing open quickly. Your Dad and Joel walk in and you can tell Joel is pissed and a bit rattled. You navigate your way around the bar and glass, reaching their booth as soon as Joel sits down. He’s cradling his right hand in his left, hissing in discomfort.
“What did you do?” You say, reaching out for his hands. There’s two gashes that litter his knuckles, only bleeding slightly. You shake your head when he pulls away from you.
“Nothin’ baby,” he mumbles, “Just taught the guy it’s not nice to talk to ladies like he did. He walked off with a bloody nose and busted lip when he started talkin’ shit back.”
You roll your eyes, catching your Dad’s glare.
“Did you break it up?” You press, wanting more of an explanation.
He shakes his head, “Nope. Joel can handle himself. I did tell the guy when he was walking away that if he talked about my daughter like that again, he’d wouldn’t be able to walk away cause he would have a bullet between his eyes.”
You roll your eyes, crossing your arms under your chest. “I swear to God…”
Tommy approaches the table, his task of cleaning glass finished. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, “You okay?”
“I’d be better if the men in my life weren’t insane,” You joke, nudging Joel’s arm as he inspects his knuckles.
Tommy laughs and sits back down across from your Dad and Joel. While he makes jokes with your Dad, Joel is silent and stirred. You can tell he’s bothered by something more than handling some asshole who called you a name. You decide against pestering him more, allowing him to settle back into conversation with Tommy and your Dad.
You give him a quick peck on the cheek and return to slinging drinks.
-
“Thanks for staying while I lock up,” You say to Joel as pushing in the last barstool, “And thanks for earlier.”
He is propped up on one of the middle pillars, his shoulder resting on the wood while his arms and legs are crossed. He was still being quiet, not giving into conversation. You approach him, your eyes trained on his arms. He was wearing a t-shirt for the first time all summer, which made you feel some type of way. His arms were tanned beautifully and toned. His biceps were perfectly outlined by the thin fabric of the gray t-shirt.
“Anythin’ for you, sweetheart.”
You glance up at him, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Tell me what’s got you all bothered.”
“It’s nothin’,” He uncrosses his arms and reaches out for you. You know it’s not nothing, so you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him forward. He looks a bit surprised.
“It’s somethin’, so you better tell me what happened.”
He huffs, fanning your face with his breath, “That asshole said some shit about us and it set me off.”
You squeeze him a bit, “What did he say?”
You can tell he does not want to repeat it, but you were not going to let it go.
“How I’m an old man with a young girl. How I’m old enough to be your dad.”
You feel sick to your stomach at the idea he had to hear some asshole say that. You look down between you, shifting your weight onto your other foot. You started to feel clammy, unsure of a good response that would reassure Joel.
“He’s just some asshole. What does he know?” You manage to sputter.
Joel’s shoulder’s sag, “He’s not wrong, though, baby girl. I’m an old man with a younger girl.”
You push away from him, scanning him up and down. You are pissed that he’s even bringing this up again, after all this time.
“I’m a grown ass woman, Joel. A grown ass woman with a grown ass man. Just because there’s time in between us doesn’t mean we aren’t old enough to make decisions for ourselves.”
His lip curls, “I know baby, I am just saying that sometimes we get odd looks cause of the age difference. I really don’t care anymore… Just caught me off guard, is all.”
You fold your arms, “You put him in his place, right? He’s not gonna come around here sayin’ shit again?”
“He’d be stupid to come near you again. Think I got my point across.”
You feel like you owe him something. You had a couple ways you could repay him, ensuring that he never thinks about those stupid comments again.
You use your arms to press up your bra a bit, your cleavage more highlighted with the gesture. Joel’s eyes trail down, the scoop neck giving away your suggestive movement. You step closer again, wanting to be in his space.
“My man…” You trail, your eyes falling to his agape mouth, “Makin’ sure everyone knows I’m his.”
He nods slowly before his hand creeps around your waist, “What are you tryin’ to do, girl?”
“Nothin’,” you click your tongue. “Just thinkin’ of how I could repay you for handlin’ that for me. You hurt yourself defending my honor. I owe you.”
“Don’t think of it that way. You don’t owe me anything,” His fingers start to creep down to the curve of your ass. “But, I would love to see what you had in mind.”
“Oh, you would,” You hum, your arms unfolding to wrap around his neck. “Let’s start by walking back to your house.”
Instead of responding, he dips his head and peppers kisses down your neck, taking his time letting his fingers wander around the skin on your lower back and hips. Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every press of his lips.
“Fuck,” You sigh as you try to bring him closer to you, but he’s not letting up on your neck. He’s suckling spots near your collarbone, groaning as you react to his every move. You knew at this point, this whole situation was in his hands and not yours.
He lifts his head slowly, letting his bottom lip drag across your skin, “How ‘bout this… How ‘bout I take you right here over this bar? Maybe that asshole is nearby and he can hear how well I give it to ya.”
His proposition sends you into a spiral. You and Joel have had plenty of sex in different places, but the bar? And he wants others to hear? Usually he’s telling you that your moans are for his ears only, and while he wants you to be loud for him, you’re usually too timid to actually vocalize your pleasure.
You place your hands on his expansive chest, “You want to fuck me here?”
He beams down at your question before he whispers, “I want to fuck you everywhere. Here, your bed, my couch, the shower. Hell, I’ll take you at this bar while people watch.”
“Jesus, Joel,” You huff, almost dizzy from the statement.
He brings his hand up to tilt your head back so you look at him. When your eyes meet, he brings the hand up around your neck and to the nape, right where your spine starts.
“God, I need you, sweet girl.”
You roll your eyes, but before you can speak, Joel brings you in for a passionate and eager kiss. He’s feverish, his hands now wandering down to your ass. He starts to walk you backwards towards the now abandoned bar top. You knock into a couple chairs, but his arms keep you from tripping. His hands are propped on your ass, navigating you to the edge of the bar top. When your back is pressed against it, he starts to shove his thumbs under your waist band. He pulls away from your lips to push down your jeans, letting them pool on the floor.
“Spread your legs,” he grumbles, “I want to taste you.”
You do as you’re told, shaking your jeans off your ankles and spreading your legs. Joel falls to his knees like a man starved. You note his devilish smile when you do as you’re told.
“I thought I was repaying you,” You choke out as his hands roam over your flesh. He chuckles darkly before pressing a kiss to your right inner thigh.
“Lettin’ me get between these legs with my tongue is repaying me,” He clicks as pulls at your panties. He slides them to the side, getting a great look at how wet you are already. Your knees feel like they may give out any second just from the anticipation, so when his mouth finds your entrance, you rest your elbows on the freshly wiped down bar.
Joel exploring you in this way was nothing new, but every time he went down on you, it was thrilling. He was simply so fuckin’ good at it. You never had a man take his time eating you out, desperately wanting you to cum straight on his tongue.
The vibrations from his groaning sends shockwaves down your legs, causing them to shake. Joel’s hands are the only thing keeping you stable because even your elbows are slipping from the bar top. The suckling noises coming from him are obscene, especially because you’re standing over the bar at your work. You cannot help but try to balance yourself so you can grind yourself down onto his eager tongue. Before you can really get started doing that, he pulls away, his wet lips glistening under the overhead lights.
He sticks his pointer, middle, and ring finger into his mouth, slathering them in his own saliva. You watch him carefully as he brings them up to your slit, adding to the slick that’s already there.
“I want you to cum all over my fingers before I bend you over this bar,” He practically moans. “Can you do that for me, baby?”
You can barely speak as his fingers slowly slip in and out of you, “Y-yes.”
“Yes what?” He adds another finger, curling them as he pumps in and out. Your head is spinning, watching his other hand spread over your lower stomach to hold you against the bar. You know what he wants, but you can hardly get the word ‘yes’ out, let alone the name he loves you calling him. You try to breathe in and center yourself, but the fire in your tummy burns bright.
“Y-yes, Sir. Please m-make me cum.”
He latches his lips around your clit as he speeds the strokes of his three digits. You grab onto his dark curls to hold him there to ensure that he doesn’t stop putting all the pressure right there. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train and you cannot help but scream out in pleasure.
He grabs your hips, not caring about your recovery. His dick is rock hard in his blue jeans and it makes you giggle in satisfaction. Joel has fucked you in so many different ways, but you do not remember a time he fucked you over counter.
Your upper body is laying flat against the wooden bar, your hands gripping onto the other side to steady yourself. You hear his zipper go down and then his hands are back on you. Your panties are stretched to hell already, so he practically tears the fabric off your lower body without any resistance. You chuckle at how vehement he is. He spreads your ass cheeks as he slips his cock between your closed thighs.
“Gonna need you to spread some more for me, sweet girl,” He mutters, smacking one of your cheeks lightly, “God, you’re so perfect.”
Your cheeks burn, “Yes, Sir.”
You do as you’re told, spreading your legs for him. When you do that, his dick prods at your clit, before easing into your entrance. You and Joel fuck raw, so when he opens you up, you feel every vein and ridge against your walls. He’s thick and it always takes you a minute to adjust to the feeling.
“So fuckin’ tight.”
He retracts back and inches forward again, letting you take in every inch of him. You grab onto the edge of the bar harder, your grip growing tighter with the action. He rests his grip on your hips, using them as leverage as he sets a steady pace. The moment his pace picks up, it’s like the motion pushes all the air from your lungs and you huff out louder. It only encourages him, but instead of keeping you in that position, he grabs onto your shoulders and lifts you up. You are lifted up to his chest, flush with his clothed upper body. He reaches around your arms and grabs onto your breasts through your thin v-neck.
“J-Joel,” you nudge him with your free hands, “Let me take it o-off.”
He slows his thrusts and lets you pull your shirt over your head. Instead of unhooking your bra, Joel takes the liberty to do it himself. The straps drop off your shoulders and you peel the padding off your chest. His hands instantly cradle your breasts, kneading them as he jolts forward to continue fucking you. His thumb and pointer pinch and tug at your pert nipples.
“Mmm,” He hums, “Only I can fuck you this good, huh?”
You whimper at his actions, “Only you, Joel.”
“That’s right.”
With that, he slips himself out of you, causing you to whine at the empty feeling. He moves you around like a rag doll, turning you around to face him.
Joel’s eyes are dilated and his hands are moving quickly to lift you off the ground and press your lower back into the bar. You place your hands on his shoulders, knowing exactly what position he wants you in.
He picks you up so seamlessly. It’s like when he’s horny or angry, he’s super strong and practically indestructible. He will probably complain how his back hurts later.
Your knees fold over his forearms, perfectly spread open for his taking.
You are so wet that he slips right into you. He uses the bar a bit for leverage as he fucks up into you, the angle completely sending you into a spiral. His eyes are perfectly trained on your chest, watching your tits jiggle as he drills into you.
“Most perfect thing I ever did see,” He remarks between strokes. Your nails are digging into his shoulder, right above a scar he got a couple years ago when he was out on patrol with your dad. You remember it was the first time you saw Joel shirtless. He was sitting next to your Dad in the infirmary, getting stitched up from getting caught on a sharp tree limb. You remember thinking how tan and beautiful he was back then.
Now you’re gripping onto his shoulders years later, his dick ramming into you and hitting you in all the right places.
Life is so mysterious and wonderful.
He bites his lip, putting all his focus into making you cum before he does himself. He’s a giver and for that, you’re extremely grateful. No man has ever put in as much effort. Before Joel, you did not know you could cum more than once in a single session. A couple months ago, he could not help his insatiable taste for you and made you cum 6 times.
His thrusts begin to falter when he feels you clenching around him, the fiery thrill building in your stomach. Your legs feel like jello, but as soon as the orgasm hits you, they stiffen in his grip.
“F-fuck Joel,” You whimper, stuttering at how good your body feels as your come down unravels. This orgasm is way more powerful, making you practically vibrate in Joel’s arms.
He fucks you through the feeling, his finish quickly approaching. When he’s finally finding his own release, he slips out of you before he can cum inside you. You two had an agreement that he could only cum inside you if you explicitly say he can. Since you didn't even think about it, you watch as his seed spills all over your pelvic bone.
When you two catch your breaths, he gently places you down on the ground. He steadies your wobbly legs by holding onto your naked waist.
You realize you are smiling like an idiot, completely blissed out on how good Joel made you feel. You find your footing, picking up your pants nearby. You don’t even bother with the material that used to be your underwear.
You hear Joel behind you fixing himself up, zipping his dick back into his jeans. You pull on your pants, leaving them unbuttoned. You grab the material on the ground and ball them up. You prance over to Joel, his eyes raking you up and down.
“You can keep this,” You joke, pulling at one of his front pockets. You tuck the panties into his pants, smiling widely.
“‘M just gonna add them to the collection,” He replies, gripping onto the point of your chin.
When he tilts your eyes up to meet his, your heart flutters at the action. He’s so beautiful with his fine lines and wildly untamed peppered curls. His eyebrows are furrowed as he contemplates your expression.
You finally say it. Those three words that you had been meaning to say for months. The words that you had never said to another man ever. There was a distinct moment about 2 months ago, after you had dinner with him and Ellie, where you almost said it while helping him with the dishes. It was that steadying of your heart, a moment you felt most at peace with someone. He made you comfortable. He made you feel safe.
“I love you, Joel.”
He drops your chin, his eyes soften at the statement. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Your anxiety starts to creep up your throat. Maybe you should not have said that. Fuck.
��I-I…”
“I love you too, sweetheart,” He says in almost a whisper before he takes your right hand, rubbing the top of it with his thumb. “‘M sorry I didn’t say it earlier.”
Your body relaxes, reassured by his answer. You did not have any doubts about your feelings for Joel, but your mind could not help but over analyze every little thing he ever said to you, forcing you to assume he may not feel the same way.
He brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a long kiss onto your knuckles.
“Let’s get you home, sweet girl. I gotta get up for patrol tomorrow.”
#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller#pedro pascal#joel miller fanfiction#joel last of us smut#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x reader#joel miller tlou#the last of us#joel miller x f!reader#gracieheartspedro
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Above the world
Author: bvidzsoo
Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader
🕸️Warning: cursing, mentions of murder and robbery, wounds, slightly suggestive 🕸️Word count: 25.6k 🕸️Rating: nc-17 🕸️Genre: Spiderman!AU, Marvel & DC references, superheroes!AU, strangers to lovers!AU, highschool!AU 🕸️Summary: Moving to a new city due to your mother's psychotic ex-fiancé, you thought the past wouldn't catch up with you, but it does. You're an outcast at your new highschool until a tall and dorky guy approaches you and decides to be your friend. Oh, and did I mention there's also this weird superhero kinda guy in the city who calls himself Spiderman? And why does he kind of remind you of your new friend?
A/N: Lovelies, it's finally here!! I've been planning to write this story for at least two months now, I just didn't have the time for it, but it's here at last! Few things I'd like to quickly point out: 1. I hope the humor I used isn't a miss as once again I wanted to explore something new and used a different writing style, 2. they are in highschool but it's not cringe, I promise (I haven't written a highschool setting in ages lol), 3. I used some terms that are skateboard related and so, I'll leave a little glossary of what those mean below! ^^ (I hope I managed to describe these well) (I hate the fact that I didn't incorporate the famous "hold on tight spider-monkey" line, but it is what it is lol) Sorry if there are any mistakes, I do proofread but it's super late rn and my brain might not pick up on all the mistakes! :') Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy this little (not so little) story, and your feedback is always super welcome, they inspire me to write even more lol! divider
⎊ (I have an Iron Man!Mingi oneshot, if you're interested! ^^)
🕸️360: a complete skateboard and body rotation performed either frontside or backside 🕸️180: a half skateboard and body rotation performed either frontside or backside 🕸️alley-oop: an aerial transition trick in which the skater moves his body sideways in the opposite direction of the rotating movement 🕸️backside: a trick or turn executed with the skater's back facing the ramp coping or the obstacle 🕸️alley-oop backside 50-50 grind 🕸️540 backside 🕸️airwalk: an aerial trick in which the skater grabs the nose of the board, kicks the feet out while in the air, and then quickly back on when he's about to land it 🕸️ollie: a trick in which the skater uses his or her feet to pull the skateboard up into the air 🕸️backside nose slip 🕸️frontside boneless 🕸️Casper Flip: a trick in which the skater performs a half-flip and then uses the back foot to grab the tail and whip it
Despite the unfamiliarity of the dimly lit street, there was something very comforting and—quite familiar—about this new place. Perhaps I couldn’t call it home just yet—given that it’s barely my second day here—but there was something cozy about the wet ground shimmering underneath the glimmering streetlamps that did little to nothing to light up all corners of the—otherwise—dark street. Not many are out at this hour, and it’s not because it’s too late, it’s the fact that my mother and I managed to find ourselves—barely— a modest little house, in probably one of the dodgiest parts of this, new, promising, and quite huge city. I wouldn’t call it the slums—I’ve seen worse places compared to this one—but the eerily empty street could make anyone run back inside their house upon nightfall. And, well, I get it—if it weren’t for my favourite music blasting through my wired—probably from the Stone Age—earphones, I probably would’ve found myself scurrying back home as well. But for once, I didn’t mind the cool breeze of air that’s settled upon the city after the rain that came out of nowhere. It was autumn, but the leaves haven’t started falling down just yet. It was the perfect timing for me to join my new high-school, not that there was ever a good timing, per se, I always thought a newcomer would remain just that—a newcomer. And while I didn’t have had to move towns in quite a while now, I still remembered what kind of treatment would be waiting for me tomorrow.
The new girl in school. Everyone would be eager tomorrow to get to know me, to talk to me, to try and befriend me. And me—well, I had nothing against all that—but deep down I just really wished to remain unseen, and most importantly, unbothered. I have never considered myself a very sociable person, and later than sooner, people would realize that and they would finally leave me alone. I don’t have many friends for this exact reason, and the one I do have moved to Spain a long time ago, our phones now the only way to keep in touch—my mother finally saw the important of me being on my phone so often. But it was fine, I didn’t mind the distance, however, there were days when I wished we could hang out, go on small trips, enjoy each other’s company. Nayoung had promised to visit soon, but we both knew she was too busy with her life over in Spain for that to happen anytime soon, and I didn’t have it in myself to pester her about the promise she made.
The neighbourhood my mother and I had moved to wasn’t too far from the heart of the city—and while one would expect it to be lively and bright, it was anything but that—even during the daytime. People seemed to avoid making eye contact and they hung their heads low around here, barely muttering even as much as a greeting if you crossed paths with them down the wide street, even if they were your neighbours. The houses, too, seemed to be silent at all times, no little children screaming and laughing or playing outside, no rowdy teenagers blasting music and getting yelled at for not doing their homework. It was odd, but it was only temporal—well, that is if my mother manages to land herself a better paying job so that we can move away from here. These houses were closely pressed up against each other, back gardens rather—inexistent. Our house just so happened to be neighbouring a huge building—offices, someone had told us—but for what business, we didn’t know. And probably wouldn’t want to know.
I’ve seen some roughed-up people come and go from the beaten-up building. The narrow alleyway just so happened to be a dead-end between our house and this building, and my mother had been debating whether she should place bars outside on my window as it just so happened to be facing this small alleyway. It wasn’t as dark as one would expect it to be, but a barely lit-up streetlamp did a shitty job at fully illuminating it.
I bobbed my head to the music, humming—hopefully—quietly to myself as I skipped down the road, almost splashing myself in the process as I failed to notice a rather deep looking puddle. I chuckled as I narrowly missed it and threw the plastic bag over my right shoulder—completely forgetting I had eggs in there. With an alarmed expression, I scrambled to hold the plastic bag normally and peeked inside, letting out a sigh in relief upon seeing that the eggs were completely fine, not one cracked. I knew my mother would make me walk back to the small convenience store—which was probably about to close up—and I really just wanted to watch my anime—the one I had seen about five hundred times, but who cares?! Some people tend to cling to that what brings them the most comfort, and this anime was like that for me. However, just as the chorus of the song blasted through my earphones, I cleared my throat, ready to mouth the lyrics as I remained alone on the street, when I felt a harsh tug on my right arm. And when I didn’t react to it straight away, I was pushed forward, stumbling through a puddle and splashing my new white Vans.
“Oh, come on, man!” I snapped, frowning down at my, now, dirty shoes, “I just got these yesterday!”
As I turned and went to pull out the earphone from my left ear, I was met with a sight that I wasn’t exactly expecting. Well, to be fair, I thought a kid or an asshole had run into me on purpose, but—having a metal gun almost pressing into my forehead certainly wasn’t what I was expecting—what a way to greet your new neighbour on their second day of living here!
“Empty your pockets!” The tall man, dressed in all black—typical—hissed as I managed to pull out both of my earphones while moving slowly, “And give me everything that’s pricey.”
Well, jokes on him, I didn’t have anything pricey on myself…well, except for my phone, “I don’t really have that many pockets, man.”
I pulled my cardigan’s pockets out, showing the robber that I really had nothing inside, “Look, man, if you think you are broke?! Just look at me! You are really out here trying to rob a broke high-school student—”
“Shut up!” The man snapped, and I froze as the barrel of his gun was now forcefully pressing against my forehead. Uh, yeah, if there’s one thing I totally suck at—well, it’s shutting the hell up when needed, “Give me your rings! Now!”
My eyebrows furrowed and I looked down at my hands, scowling as I realized I was wearing all of my favourite rings. Like hell was I giving them to this dude!
“Honestly, I got these from some antique shop for the cheapest price ever,” I huffed, raising the plastic bag between us and trying to ignore the way my heartbeat picked up when the man’s eyes narrowed, gun pressing just a little bit harder against my cold skin—okay, I have started sweating, “But you can totally take this bag! Like, man, it’s all yours, really! I’m not even hungry anymore! My mom’s hot dogs can wait for another day, you can have it, man.”
“What the fuc—” But before the man could even finish his sentence, he was gone. Like—gone. Whisked away, or some shit. I stood there, dumbfounded, mouth gaping and blinking at nothing. I swear, the man was in front of me a second ago and now he’s—not anymore? I gulped, squeezing the plastic bag to my chest—disregarding the fact that I could crack the eggs—and slowly looked around, now finally acknowledging the fact that I was really panicking. What do you mean I was being threatened a second ago at gunpoint and now that motherfucker disappeared into thin air?! Did I inhale something sketchy when I passed those two dudes in front of the convenience store? Was I hallucinating now? Has the trauma induced by my mother’s ex finally caught up to me, ready to torment me? Am I going to—the soft thump in front of me made me freeze as I slowly moved my eyes from the sky towards where I heard the sound come from and—yeah, I screamed.
“Hey, hey, wait!” Whatever that thing was called out, making my eyes widen as I accidentally stumbled back, certainly about to fall into a puddle, but—a web shot out towards me from that thing’s wrist and caught me mid-air, gently stabilizing me, “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m not here to hurt you! I just—saved you, actually.”
The sound—well, voice—coming from underneath that thing’s—man’s—mask was boyish and a little bit distorted, but I could hear its—his—tone very well, still. It was soft and sounded rather concerned. Having realized that I was still gaping towards this—something—with my heart practically in my throat, I closed my mouth and blinked furiously, trying to clear my head as I shook my body in case this was a dream—it seemed like the perfect moment to wake up, before it could turn even weirder.
“Okay,” The masked thing—man, guy, whatever—mused, clearly sounding amused now, “I’ve never seen anyone react like that to Spiderman, actually.”
“A spider what?” I asked confused, eyebrows furrowing as I held onto the bag even tighter. For a moment, there was complete—awkward—silence.
“Spiderman?” The person sounded unsure as they scratched their nape, its mask blinking. I jumped, allowing my eyes to fully take in this—creature?! Why did it look like a real man if they called themselves a Spiderman?! As if all that wasn’t enough, the person was tall enough to loom over my form in its red and blue glory, the costume moulding against their lean and—softly—muscular body, looking like a second skin, almost. The design was intricate, and I could swear it looked like it had some actual web sewed into it. All in all, the outlook was quite cool, it’s just that it was confusing to look at…him? I mean, the person did look like a man, alright—a fine one, on top of that—and they did call themselves a man, so.
“Are you going to—morph into a spider or some shit?” I found myself asking, sounding less mortified than I felt on the inside. That was good, no? I mean…this creature still hadn’t attacked me or killed me, so we were getting somewhere, right?
“Morph into a spider—” And then the creature—man—was laughing hard and loudly, doubling over as its body shook, hitting its knees with its hands, making me narrow my eyes at them. Nothing about what I had asked was funny. I was genuinely confused. Was this some kind of prank? Would I end up going viral all over the internet? Where were the cameras?
“I’m not Antman.”
“Antman doesn’t turn into an ant.” I deadpanned, the stranger in front of me raising up to their full height again, quieting down. I swear to God, I could just about slightly see their lips pursed, but the mask did a good job at concealing every feature of the stranger’s.
“Yeah, you’re actually right.” The stranger seemed to agree with me, and if I had to take a guess, he was probably smiling underneath his mask, “So, if Antman doesn’t turn into an actual ant, do you think Spiderman will turn into an actual spider?”
“Where are we? At school?” I deadpanned sarcastically, eyebrows furrowing as I just realized the web this creature had shot towards me to stop me from falling into the puddle was still clinging to my forearm. Ew.
“Right, I’m—oh.” The stranger cut themselves off as something on their left arm started buzzing, quiet beeping catching my attention as I looked towards his wrist, at which the weirdo was blinking down at now—well, their mask was, “Sorry, duty calls, them bad boys are asking for it again. Are you far from home?”
“No, I live right down the street.” I found myself answering whatsoever, the fear of getting murdered miraculously gone despite this weird encounter.
“Cool, then hurry home before it gets later and more dangerous.” The stranger’s voice was friendly, and I watched as they bent their knees a few times, looking like they were about to launch themselves away.
“Wait—” I quickly said, biting my lower lip when the masked man turned his head towards me, “where’s the guy that was threatening me?”
The stranger just shrugged his shoulders once, and I could hear the smile in his voice, “Don’t worry about him, he won’t bother you again anytime soon.”
“Oh, okay.” I whispered, eyes widened once the stranger shot another web from their wrist, this one quite long as it latched onto the side of an abandoned factory. Wow, just how was that possible? Wouldn’t it break? No, wait, it was able to hold me without breaking, so it certainly wouldn’t break under this man’s weight—isn’t that impressive?!
“Hey,” Snapped out of my thoughts, I was surprised to find the man crouched down, funnily resembling a frog, “I’m glad I found you at the right time, but try to be more careful next time, I’m afraid I won’t be always around to save you.”
I gulped and nodded, feeling my cheeks tinge red a little, “Thanks…Spiderman?”
The person chuckled, soft and a little deep, somehow the voice modulator unable to properly mask the sound, and then—as quickly as he had appeared in front of my eyes out of thin air—he was gone just like that too. I whipped my head up with my mouth falling open, watching in awe as the man swung around from building to building, making it seem like nothing. He had some mad trust in those webs of his, I could never. My fear of heights simply would make me too terrified to frail around like that, so high up in the sky. One misstep and—well, you’re dead.
The loud barks of a dog coming from a house down the street made me jump, and I realized I should’ve long made my way home. Couldn’t have my mother worrying about me so soon, and so, heeding the advice of this…Spiderman, I hurried the rest of the way back home, reminding myself to look up this mystery—hero?
Well, school turned out to be the complete opposite of my expectations. The ambush I was waiting for as I walked through the large front doors—well, it never happened. People swarming towards me, desperate to meet and greet the new girl—that, also didn’t happen. Perhaps I misjudged the situation at first, after all, not all people were so eager to make new friends, but to not have at least one single person approach me was—simply put, odd. Well, it was odd until I found out the reason as to why everyone seemed to steer clear from my path, avert their eyes—or even going to the length of staring at the ground while they walked past me—or why I heard whispers behind my back everywhere I went. They’ve heard what my ‘step-father’ had done. By now, everyone knew why my mother and I had to move to a new city, yet nobody bothered enough to hear the full story—or at least wait before judging me. He wasn’t even my step-father, actually, my mother never got to marry him with how he’s now locked up in federal prison, rotting away in a cell.
“Did you hear her father stabbed the man one hundred times?”
“Do you think she’s also a psychopath?”
“She does look like one, if you ask me.”
“Who even allowed her to enrol in our school?!”
“Wait, what if she carries a knife on her like her father did?!”
“Do you think her father brought her out with himself to hunt for his prey together?”
Were some of the absurd whispers I managed to catch during the four hours that I’ve been at my new school, and these questions just kept getting more hilarious and deranged each time I heard them.
“Yes, and he made sure to teach me how to smell a weakling, too.” I had smirked, just barely turning my head, to look at the blonde girl in line behind me as we were waiting for our turn to pick up our food, “Usually blondies like you are easy to lure in, sweetheart. Less yapping and paying more attention to your surroundings might save you next time from saying something embarrassing about said person standing right next to you.”
The blonde’s eyes had almost bulged out of her eye sockets just as it was our turn to pick up our food for the day, and then I was off to find a table that was still empty as I knew no one would want to sit next to me. Thankfully, the canteen of the high-school was spacious enough.
And after that, not much happened other than people unabashedly staring my way and whispering, the teachers being either very nice or acting uncaring towards me. And by the middle of the day, I was finally ready to head home, but I had yet to power through two more classes. And if that didn’t sound excruciating enough, the loud laughter suddenly dying down as a group of girls passed by me, certainly brought a sour taste into my mouth. I couldn’t help myself as I played into the rumours and hissed at the girls, making them scramble off in a frenzy. I chuckled, and quite quickly almost choked on my own spit as someone had started to chuckle behind me, scaring the living daylights out of me. I had—foolishly—assumed I was alone in the hallway, wanting to pick up a few books from my locker before I would head to my next class. I had zero intentions to pay attention in my last two classes, reading some manga will do for the time being.
“You’re not helping yourself by feeding into these people’s delusions.” The same voice that had chuckled spoke up as I whirled around, totally not expecting to see the loomingly tall guy from my classes, leaned against the lockers, a dashing smile on his face. Fuck. Did he have to be so handsome?
“Speaking to the ‘daughter’ of a criminal? How daring,” I whispered, faking a deranged smile as I grabbed something out of my pocket, “Aren’t you afraid you might be my next victim? Considering the fact that these stupid kids at school seem to think I’ve killed—fifteen people already?!”
And to that morbid ‘joke’, I certainly didn’t expect my cute—and handsome—classmate to burst out laughing. His puffy cheeks had a natural rosiness to them and I couldn’t fight the smile on my lips as I noticed the tips of his ears had turned slightly red as well. He laughed with his whole mouth, hand shielding it and oh—his fingers were nice. Long. Well—my classmate looked down at my hand, still laughing, as I held a plastic fork oh so menacingly and threateningly, pointed towards his chest.
“Why do you have a plastic fork in your jacket?” My classmate asked amused, narrowing his eyes teasingly, “Were you waiting all day long just to do that?”
“No!” I exclaimed mortified, hiding the plastic fork behind my back. God, this is now really embarrassing, “I just—I was wearing this jacket when my mom and I were moving in. I bought some food and this fork, apparently, and then completely forgot about it and left it in my pocket.”
I could swear I heard my classmate mutter a ‘cute’ before he straightened up, dusting his seemingly completely spotless jeans. Oh, God, okay, he’s tall tall. I gulped as I slightly had to look up at him, feeling so completely little despite having a quite decent height for a girl—not that there’s anything wrong with any type of heights.
“I meant to greet you during our lunch break, but my friends wouldn’t let me leave,” My classmate spoke up while scratching the back of his head, looking sheepish. I had to force my eyes to move up to his face from his hands, only to have my stomach doing weird flips. Oh, hell no, I was not about to have a crush on someone—let alone my classmate—the very first day I get to my new high-school. But the guy wore washed out blue jeans, looking a little baggy, and he had a white, probably, t-shirt peeking out from underneath his green long-sleeved blouse, a jersey with our school’s logo thrown over it. And the blue and white bandana around his greyish-greenish—and blueish in certain lightning—hair certainly pulled his outfit together, making him look really good. And despite considering myself someone who is almost always well dressed, I felt quite plain looking right now. Absentmindedly, I started playing with one of my many rings that I was wearing, “My name is Jeong Yunho, by the way.”
Right, Jeong Yunho. I’ve caught his name from the teachers and a few classmates already. I smiled, nodding a little, “Yeah, I’ve heard your name a few times this morning. I’m Kang Y/N.”
“It’s nice to officially meet you, then, Y/N.” I chuckled and shook his extended hand, totally trying not to gape at how big it was and how awfully well it enveloped around mine. Plus, his hand was way too hot, almost to the point it was burning my freezing hand.
“You too.” I found myself answering, but not quite present as I tried to pull my hand out of Yunho’s before I would start gushing about his fingers. God, when have I turned into this person? Yeah, I had a thing for hands, fingers, and rings, sue me—but never have I had it this badly for someone I just met.
“So,” Yunho said cheerily, clapping his hands together as I pushed mine inside my jacket’s pockets, “Do you want me to show you around school? I know a few good hiding spots for when you’re in the mood to skip classes.”
“Aren’t we supposed to be in class right now, though?” I asked confused, looking down the empty hallway. The bell had rung a good ten minutes ago, but I had figured the teacher’s would be lenient with me today as I was new and—didn’t actually know my way around school just yet.
“Nah,” Yunho chuckled, his features really boyish and—cute—damn it, “I spoke to the teacher, it was his idea to ask me to show you around, actually. You’ll find Mr. Kim a rather odd man, but he’s cool and really smart.”
“Oh, okay,” I muttered, pursing my lips as I opened my locker to put away my books as I didn’t need them anymore, “but for the record, that guy everyone is talking about, isn’t my father. We’re not related, not even a little bit. He’s a psycho and I’m glad he’s locked up for life.”
I didn’t mean to sound so—rough, but I hated the fact that everybody so quickly assumed things about me that weren’t even true. Yeah, I didn’t exactly want to be bothered and make new friends, but one or two people would’ve been still nice if they did approach me.
“Yeah, I don’t exactly care,” Yunho said with a casual shrug, giving me a small smile that made his cheeks puff out a little bit, “call it a spidey sense, but I think you’re a really nice person.”
My eyes narrowed as I huffed quietly, crossing my arms in front of my chest as Yunho grinned, looking ready to finally show me around, “Speaking of spiders, who the fuck is this Spiderman?”
If there was one thing in the world that I would find no matter where I was—that was a skatepark. No matter how much I love watching anime and reading mangas, skateboarding just so happens to be a little higher up on the scarce list of my likes and dislikes. And after having cruised around my neighbourhood, narrowly avoiding the masses as I refused to step down off my skateboard, I finally found a skatepark. It wasn’t too packed, which was really awesome—I never actually liked it when it was full of rowdy kids wanting to show off—and it was in walking—or riding—distance from the neighbourhood I live in. At least the people around here look a little bit friendlier than the ones back on my street, my mother would finally have something to be happy about. She hates our new place—understandably so—and is restlessly looking for a new job, to the point that I had to shut her laptop off last night for her and send her to bed. Who is being the responsible adult now, huh, mom?
Today was my third day at school and—well, it could have been worse, to be fair. My peers still looked at me like I had two heads—or was carrying a knife on me—they still whispered made up shit about me—of course, they did, it was barely my third day—but somehow having Yunho around slightly helped? Yeah, Yunho—well, he is quite adamant on being my friend despite me very obviously ruining his perfect reputation. It wasn’t hard to notice just how popular this dude actually is at school. Everyone greets him in the hallways, people flock to him every few minutes, and he’s always smiling and making small talk with everyone. He does have his closer-knit friend group—who very obviously are not fond of me—yet he still somehow makes it seem like he’s friends with absolutely everyone. I wounder if he’s ever had an enemy in his life before—less likely, to be fair. With a face and personality like his, I don’t think anyone would have the guts to hate that guy.
But putting thoughts of Yunho aside and sending a quick text to my mother to inform her about my whereabouts, I placed my phone back in the back pocket of my jeans, and took off towards the slope. My skateboard glided smoothly along the ground as I passed by a few other skaters, the sky darkening soon as evening was slowly approaching. A group of guys were huddled together and watching something on their phones as I did a 360, grinning as they cast glances my way after the little trick I pulled. I wasn’t a big trick master, never too bothered to actually learn the ones that were more dangerous, however the few tricks I did know were pretty cool and nicely executed. Arriving to the slope, I stepped my left foot off the skateboard and looked down, watching a few skaters glide down and do tricks. The slope wasn’t too high nor too big, I had no problem going down it. So, stepping back onto my skateboard, I kicked off and grinned as my heart started pumping faster, the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream. I had tied my hair in a low ponytail, not keen of having it whipped in my face by the wind.
I grinned as my path was clear, making it possible for me to do a kickflip, my skateboard lifting and turning as I raised my knees high up, letting out a quiet huff as the moment was soon over and my feet were planted on my skateboard again, the speed and force enough to help me glide up on the other end of the slope. A guy and girl were at the top, both clapping casually as I grinned, doing a 180 turn before stepping off my skateboard.
“Nice one.” The girl praised and I bowed my head slightly, grinning.
“Thanks, you’re pretty cool yourself too.” I complimented her, having seen her do an ‘alley-oop backside 50-50 grind’. The girl grinned and did a mock salute before she was off the slope, in no time doing a 540 backside, making the guys—and myself—cheer for her. She had some nice skills; I had to give it to her. The girl grinned as she came to a stop at the top of the other end of the slope, shooting thumbs up towards us. I chuckled and walked to the side, taking a seat as my legs dangled off the slope. I had been riding around for more than half an hour, I could use a break right now. Besides, taking in my ‘competitors’ was always a smart move. And I mean, maybe I could make some friends too here? That girl seems pretty cool and the tricks she knows are awesome. I watched her do an ‘airwalk’, then ‘ollied’ off the side of the slope as she was headed towards a ledge grind, where she went for a ‘backside nose slip’. I placed my hands underneath my thighs as another guy went barrelling down the other end of the slope, doing a 50-50 grind as he came up on the side I was sitting at, before heading for a smaller ramp, nailing a ‘frontside boneless’. I pursed my lips and nodded, appreciating his technique as the bigger crowd of boys now kicked off too, weaving through the smaller ramps, doing tricks as one of them was headed for the slope. He grinned as he kicked off his skateboard, picking up speed as he went from one side to the other, winking at me as he did a 50-50 grind, making me snort. But he wasn’t done trying to impress the people who were watching him, and he daringly went ahead and did a ‘Casper Flip’, my eyes widening at how smoothly he nailed it. That was a trick I have tried to learn one too many times, but in the end my legs just got jumbled together—and not having enough patience—I just gave up on it.
The guy did another kickflip and then he was off towards his friends, who were loudly cheering him on, patting his back. I chuckled and looked around, noticing it was golden hour. It was beautiful, the sun coated everything in orange, reflecting off the windows of the tall buildings surrounding the park. I smiled and grabbed my phone, snapping a few pictures off it before I realized it was getting really late now and I still had to finish my Geography homework. So, just as I stood up, suddenly loud cheers erupted all around me, making me look around curiously. But there wasn’t anyone performing any cool or hard tricks, so I looked on confused, up until I saw someone pointing upwards. And as I looked up too, squinting as the golden hue of the sunlight was harsh to the bare eyes, I noticed something swinging from building to building. Red and blue and webs. Ah, Spiderman. I chuckled as I glanced at the kids in the park again, noticing the awe and excitement as they waved and pointed at the—hero?
“Spiderman!” A younger looking girl cried out, waving so hard her arm threatened to fall off any minute now, her phone in her hand, no doubt recording Spiderman. But the guy was too high-up to hear anyone call out for him. I grabbed my skateboard and placed my phone back in my pocket before I was off the slope, doing a few ollies and kickflips in the process, skirting around the mini-ramps, opting to just casually stroll out of the park. I pushed my hands in my pockets and allowed the skateboard to roll at an acceptable speed, smiling at the cool girl when she waved at me, noticing that I was on my way out. However, as my attention was on her, I failed to notice a guy rolling towards me rather quickly, in the midst of doing an airwalk, completely oblivious to me as he grinned at the camera his friend had pointed towards him. And when I finally turned my head to look ahead, it was too late as the guy and my skateboards crashed together, making me cry out in surprise. In no time was I tumbling towards the cold ground, bracing myself for the impact, thinking I would end up with scrapped elbows—if nothing anything worse.
But the impact never came and I stood frozen, hearing whispers around me and the other guy’s moans of pain. My eyebrows furrowed as I slowly opened one eye, mouth falling completely open as Yunho stood leaning over me, one strong arm holding me up around my middle, my body inches away from the ground. His eyes searched my face for a second before a huge smile stretched onto his lips, chuckling at my befuddlement as my heart continued to race. Since when was Yunho at the skatepark? And how did I fail to notice him? And why was I blushing so hard as he helped me stand up straight?
“Oh—uh—hi.” I muttered, feeling flustered as Yunho didn’t release me despite me being back on my two feet, “Thanks, that’s—impressive. Uh—since when were you at the park?”
Yunho chuckled and averted his eyes, his ears reddening suspiciously as he released me at last, “Just now—I mean, I was around. At the back, uh, I—I was passing by when I saw someone I knew in here and—are you okay?”
“It’s not me you have to be worried about.” I said with a grimace, pointing at the other guy that was now sitting on the ground, clutching his elbow to his chest.
“Hey, are you okay?” Yunho sounded worried as he walked over, crouching down.
“Yeah, I don’t think it’s broken.” The guy said and Yunho pursed his lips, looking alright with his answer, however, he still went and helped him off the ground, muttering something to the guy as he nodded and grabbed his skateboard before going off.
“What’d you say to him?” I asked curiously, looking up at Yunho with my eyebrows raised. He cleared his throat and ran his long fingers through his hair, the redness from his ears spreading to his neck now.
“That he should go to the doctor, it might not be broken but you know…a smaller rupture or something might still have happened.” Yunho explained and I hummed, looking around as I didn’t know what to say or do. The kids were slowly going home, the skatepark emptying, streetlamps illuminating the streets as the sun was gone now. It was time for me to head home.
“I have to—”
“Would you like to—”
Yunho and I looked at each other with our eyes wide, both a little embarrassed for speaking over the other. I could feel my face heat up and I looked down at the ground, stepping on the heel of my skateboard in order to hold it up, to have something to distract myself with.
“Sorry, you go first.” Yunho said, voice quiet as a car honked loudly as it narrowly avoided another one that just stopped without putting the hazard lights on.
“Oh,” I licked my lips before looking up at Yunho, for a second captured by his chocolate brown eyes. His silver-greenish-bluish hair was out of his eyes today, swept back a little messily with a middle part at his forehead, strands wavier than yesterday or the day before. It softened his features in a sweet way, “No, uhm, were you going to ask me something?”
“Yeah, I—” Yunho took his bottom lip between his teeth, hesitating for a second, “Would you like to grab something from the convenience store? Soda or anything else…”
I pursed my lips, calculating in my head whether I had enough money on me to go spend it at the convenience store, however, Yunho mistook my silence as a refusal, his cheeks instantly inflaming hot pink, “You don’t have to! I’m sorry, that was too much, I—I know we just met a few days ago, but—”
“I’d like to go, Yunho.” I cut his panicked ramble off, smiling at him amused. Yunho gaped for a second longer at me, but then he shut his mouth and chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. Why did he have to look so cute whenever he did that?
“Oh, cool, there’s a store right across the street.” Yunho pointed behind me, making me look back. Huh, I haven’t even noticed the convenience store before, but perhaps that’s because the windows were dusted up and there were no signs indicating that it was still in function, “Oh, it looks dodgy from the outside but they even have arcade games inside! I really like that place.”
“Sure, let’s go then.” I shrugged and offered Yunho a wide smile, taking off towards the exit of the park, “But I can’t stay for long, my mother will be worried about me no matter how many texts I send that I’m fine.”
Yunho’s chuckle mirrored mine behind me, and I pushed the gate open, stepping aside and holding the door open for Yunho. He thanked me and walked ahead, waiting for me at the crossroad. It took me a second to notice his cardigan, which was blue and super fluffy, and its hood had ears. It looked cute—why was everything cute about this guy? I quickly averted my eyes off Yunho when he turned to check that I was still keeping up with him—walking behind him, since his legs are too long and I can’t keep up with him—slowing down a little when he noticed I was struggling to hold my skateboard and also keep up his pace.
“Do you want me to carry that for you?” He asked with a smile, pointing at the skateboard.
“Ah, no, I got this.” I grinned, giving him a thumps-up, making Yunho chuckle as he quickly turned his head, muttering something to himself. As we arrived in front of the store, Yunho pushed the door open for me this time and stepped aside, ushering me inside. The place was actually well lit and there was a nice vanilla scent wafting through the air. I smiled as the clerk greeted us, beckoning us further inside. The walls were a neon yellow and fridge after fridge lined up against it, a few tables stern across in the middle of the space. It wasn’t a huge store, just enough for about ten people to fit inside. But the arcade Yunho talked about was nowhere to be seen.
“So, where’s that arcade at, huh?” I teased as I followed Yunho to a fridge, his grin so wide it stretched across his whole face. He sneaked a glance my way before turning towards a door I assumed were the toilets, and pointed one long finger at it.
“Beyond that door.” He answered and the opened the fridge, grabbing one strawberry milk for himself. I hummed and pursed my lips as I looked through the window of the fridges, trying to decide what I was craving. And chocolate milk was the winner as I grinned while grabbing it out of the fridge. The music wasn’t too loud inside the store, just the right volume if you wanted to have a conversation without bothering others or getting overheard. Yunho stood by the front desk, apparently conversing with the clerk, the two huddled close together. I narrowed my eyes at the two as I approached, propping my skateboard up against the sturdy wood of the front desk. The clerk cleared his throat upon noticing me and pulled back, plastering a generic smile on his face. His sharp eyes weren’t the friendliest, but he didn’t seem malicious.
“What’d you get?” Yunho asked as he looked down at me, still leaning against the front desk, arms crossed and resting on the wooden table. I placed my chocolate milk next to his strawberry one and smiled.
“Chocolate milk, haven’t had it in a really long time.” Well—does one consider three days ago a long time ago? Because I do, certainly. Yunho hummed and then faced the clerk again, nudging his head in the direction of our items.
“Think you can put them on my tab, Joong?” Yunho’s grin held mischief as he snickered in the clerk’s direction, who’s eyes narrowed.
“This isn’t a bar, Yunho, no, I can’t put it on your tab.” The clerk’s voice held exasperation as he heaved a long sigh, “You still haven’t paid for your last purchase—”
“Hey! I thought we had an agreement about that one!” Yunho exclaimed, looking offended as the clerk just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“Fine, but next time you are paying for every item you have bought from me and haven’t paid for yet this month.” Yunho giggled—actually giggled and something in my stomach coiled at the warm and cute sound of it—as he grabbed our strawberry and chocolate milks, winking at the clerk.
“I won’t be coming around too soon, then, Joong.” The clerk just rolled his eyes again and grabbed for his phone from his hoodie’s pocket.
“We’ll see about that spider—I mean—spidey obsessed dude.” I laughed a little at the clerk’s words, however it quickly died down when I saw the way Yunho froze and the clerk’s eyes widened just a fraction. Sensing the sudden weird tension in the air, I cleared my throat and grabbed my chocolate milk out of Yunho’s hand.
“Thank you for your generosity—” I raised my eyebrows, not feeling it adequate to call the clerk by the nickname Yunho did.
“Hongjoong,” It was Yunho who answered though, the clerk seemed a little uncomfortable all of a sudden, “He’s a good friend of mine, so don’t worry about it.”
“Good friend of mine,” Hongjoong, the clerk, mocked with a grimace, “We’ve known each other since they day you were born, you idiot.”
“Hey, so what?!” Yunho stuck his tongue out, and before I could thank Hongjoong properly for letting me have a free strawberry milk, Yunho was gripping my arm and pulling me towards the table furthest from the front desk. In a haste, I grabbed my skateboard and grinned at Hongjoong, bowing my head a little as he blinked before offering me the smallest smile I’ve ever seen. Well, what a colourful personality this shorter guy had.
Yunho was seemingly eager to reach our table as he had plopped down into a seat just as we got to it, excitedly opening his strawberry milk, making me chuckle. I placed my own chocolate milk on the table, not noticing how close it was to the edge as I placed my skateboard on the floor, and then shrugged my jacket off. It was warm enough inside to get rid of it, and so, as I went to put my jacket on the back of my chair, I accidentally knocked my hand into my chocolate milk, sending it towards the ground. However, as I gasped and went to reach for it, Yunho’s hand was already extended, small carton held securely in his big hand. I blinked, staring at Yunho for a second before I placed the jacket on the back of the chair and took a seat opposite him.
“Thanks.” I muttered as he extended the chocolate milk towards me, only just now noticing that the nail on his left ring finger was painted a dark blue. I tried to fight the blush that threatened to bloom on my cheeks as our fingers touched, eyes trained onto the table and subsequently on Yunho’s hands as they were both resting on top of it. He wore a few black rings and his whole outfit was casual wear once again, yet it looked really well put together. As I fiddled with the lid of my chocolate milk, I tried to ignore how hot Yunho’s hand felt again, and blamed it on the fact that my hands were always cold, “You’ve got some really nice reflexes, Yunho.”
My eyebrows raised as Yunho choked on his strawberry milk, coughing a little as he hit his chest a few times, struggling to regulate his breaths again. Well—I suppose I must have said something wrong, then? However, I failed to understand what exactly that I said was—well, wrong or triggering.
“Yeah, sorry,” Yunho cleared his throat at last, chugging half of his strawberry milk down, “thank you, I—uh, I’ve always been, uh, fast?”
“Is that a question?” I asked with a chuckle, pushing the little straw inside the little bottle before I took a small sip.
“No! I—” Yunho smacked his lips together, ears red once again, “I do have good reflexes, you’re right. Not many people notice.”
“I mean,” I chuckled, smiling at him, “that’s weird since it’s so obvious.”
“It is?” Yunho asked confused, scratching the back of his head.
“A little bit.” I whispered, averting my eyes as I became shy under Yunho’s watchful gaze. He was a tiny bit intimidating, but overall, really nice—and cute, damn it.
“So,” Yunho cleared his throat, keen on changing the subject, “How do you like it here?”
I shrugged, placing my hands on the table as I started playing with my rings, “I haven’t even been here for a week yet, but—it’s fine? I suppose—I mean, it could be a lot worse.”
“Don’t like where you live?” When my eyebrows furrowed, Yunho seemed to choke a little on his strawberry milk again, “I mean—the neighbourhood! Or like—your neighbours or—something.”
“Yeah,” I chuckled, finding it a little endearing how easily flustered Yunho got. In school we couldn’t talk for long as his friends would always interrupt us, boisterous and loud for no reason, “You are quite spot on with that, what gave you the hint?”
“Oh, I,” Yunho gestured around, shrugging a little, “figured since you were at the skatepark. It’s not that big nor very equipped. Others would want to go the central one, close to the big mall.”
“There’s one there too?” I quirked up in interest, “I have missed riding around, so I wasn’t in a search for a skatepark necessarily, you see, I came across this one randomly. And I’m glad I did, because I saw some really cool tricks the others were doing.”
“How long have you been skating for?” Yunho asked in interest, leaning forward, chin resting on his intertwined hands.
“Uhm,” I hummed, looking up towards the ceiling as I tried to count the years, “Ten, maybe? But I only ever skated for fun.”
“It’s a pretty cool skill and hobby to have.” Yunho grinned, eyes falling onto my skateboard as I placed my right leg on top of it, smiling at his compliment, “And I’ve also noticed that you like reading?”
“Oh,” I flushed a little, biting the straw of my chocolate milk before I took a gulp, “yeah, I really like reading—mangas.”
“Really?!” Yunho exclaimed, shouting over the smooth melody playing from the radio. I sneaked a glance towards Hongjoong, and quite frankly, wasn’t surprised to see him watching Yunho with narrowed eyes, it almost made me chuckle at how oblivious—or uncaring—Yunho was towards Hongjoong’s apparent annoyance with him.
“Really.” I chuckled, raising my eyebrows, “Why are you so excited, you also like mangas?”
“Oh, well, not me—not that I have anything against them! They are like super cool and such!” Yunho rambled on, averting his eyes as I tried to fight my amused grin off my face, “Mangas are cool, is what I’m trying to say, however, it’s my best friend that really likes them.”
“Hongjoong?” I asked interested, happy to have something to talk about with Hongjoong since I would be returning to this store as it was straight across the skatepark.
“Mingi, actually.” Yunho muttered, slumping back in his seat, “You know, our classmate.”
“Oh, Song Mingi?” Meaning, the guy that’s been staring daggers at me anytime Yunho even as much as came in my vicinity? I figured this Mingi guy wasn’t a huge a fan of me, not that I could do anything about it, really. If some people wanted to believe the rumours, I couldn’t do anything about that.
“Him, yeah,” Yunho muttered, pursing his lips, “I promise he’s not a douche even if he acts like it at times—”
“All the time.” I added with a chuckle, making Yunho look away.
“He’ll warm up to you.” He tried to cheer me up, but I just shrugged.
“And if he doesn’t, it’s fine, Yunho.” I reassured him with another smile, “It’s not like we can like everyone.”
“True, but—now that you two have something in common he will give in to you, trust me.” Yunho looked quite convinced and I just chuckled as I nodded once, taking some more sips of my chocolate milk.
“So, if Mingi and I like reading mangas, what do you like, Yunho?” I raised my eyebrows, definitely ignoring the way my heartrate picked up when an abashed smile stretched onto Yunho’s lips and he looked up through his lashes at me.
“Video games, like, a lot.” There was an excited glint in Yunho’s eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair, “I eat and breathe video games.”
I giggled and nodded as Yunho went on a short rant about his favourite video games and which were best to play if you were a beginner—like me—and which were more challenging and not too nerve-wrecking as he apparently had a problem of controlling his rage when playing video games. Which seemed so unnatural of Yunho, who was always calm and sweet, nice, and helpful to everyone. Not that I had known him for long, but the more time I spent with him, the quicker I realized that he truly is the way he portrays himself to be. I laughed as Yunho retold a story of him being so mad at losing a game that he scared his dog, which then jumped off the bed and got tangled in the wires, and almost completely destroyed Yunho’s TV. Well, I suppose Yunho learned not to rage in front of his dog after that day—if he wanted to keep his TV intact.
We had both long finished our respective drinks and as I had glanced down at my phone, I realized it was late—my mother would whoop my ass for staying out for so long. Hongjoong didn’t look too happy either as Yunho and I got ready to leave, and I threw an apologetic smile at him as Yunho stayed back for a few minutes. I stood in front of the store, waiting for Yunho, just enjoying the chilly air as the wind blew through the streets of the city.
“Okay, let’s go.” Yunho said once he joined me outside, smiling.
“Where do you live?” I asked, pushing my hands in the pockets of my jacket.
“Around.” Yunho’s answer was short and then he motioned down the sidewalk, “Let’s go, I’ll walk you home.”
“You don’t have to!” I squeaked, growing embarrassed all of a sudden, “I don’t want to bother you. It’s already late, your parents must be worried.”
“They certainly aren’t,” Yunho chuckled, leaning down to be eye level with me, “they are out on a date tonight and they aren’t coming back until late into the night. So, let’s go.”
“Oh,” I muttered, biting my bottom lip and before I could grab my skateboard, it was already in Yunho’s hands as he skipped down the sidewalk happily. I chuckled and followed after him, having to jog to actually catch up with his long strides, “You know, Yunho, not everyone was blessed with long legs like yours.”
Yunho’s ears turned red again as he instantly slowed down, scratching his nape, “Right, sorry. Sometimes I forget I’m tall and like—super quick too.”
“You’re like the Flash or something.” I teased with a chuckle, however, Yunho’s eyebrows furrowed and he was suddenly pouting.
“The Flash?” He asked, sounding almost offended, “He’s not even that cool, Y/N.”
“Is he not?” I deadpanned, raising my eyebrows at Yunho.
“He really isn’t.” Yunho huffed, cheeks puffing out even more, making him look adorable despite him sulking.
“Well then, who do you think is cool, Yunho?” I asked, genuinely interested about his opinion.
“Spiderman, of course!” He exclaimed as if that were obvious, making me scoff.
“You don’t even know who the guy is.” I muttered, as we stopped at a red light.
“Do you know who the Flash is?” Yunho’s eyes narrowed as he stared down at me, and I huffed.
“Well, no, but—I don’t know, I’m new to the city. I don’t know anything about Spiderman, of course I’m biased towards someone else.” I ended up explaining my reasoning and Yunho just hummed as the red light turned green and we crossed the road.
“Well, let me help you out, then.” Yunho grinned and suddenly grabbed my jacket, steering me away from a lamppost. I chuckled in embarrassment and thanked him quietly before he could continue talking, “So, Spiderman is like—super cool, you know? He helps the city whenever something really bad happens. He like—you know—he makes order. Puts bad people in jail and saves innocent civilians. Also! He doesn’t just save people, he helps old people cross the road, rescues poor animals living on the streets, even feeds pigeons! And I’ve seen him once cleaning the windows of a really high building since everybody else refused to go up that high. And he takes pictures with children, you know? Shows up at the city’s fair and has never once turned down an invitation from the mayor to represent the good force of the city alongside with the cops, of course.”
As Yunho took a deep breath, having rushed all that out in one breath, I couldn’t help but burst out laughing, having to press a hand against my mouth to muffle the sounds. I’ve never seen Yunho as passionate about something—except for video games—before, and as hilarious he looked with his eyebrows furrowed and lips pouting every few seconds—fuck, he was just as cute—so cute in fact, that I nearly tripped over nothing, but he was too lost in his excitement to notice, thankfully. Having slightly calmed down my heart, I glanced at Yunho, amused to see him clutching my skateboard against his chest, giving me a small glare.
“I’m sorry,” I said with a chuckle, clearing my throat, “You just sound an awful lot like you have a crush on Spiderman.”
Yunho scoffed, but he couldn’t fight the smile off his lips anymore, “Everyone has a crush on Spiderman, don’t you too?”
“I don’t know him well enough to have a crush on him just yet.” Yunho’s eyes narrowed for a split second.
“Yet, you say?”
“Yet, I say.”
And then I watched as Yunho turned the corner, skipping a few steps ahead as he led the way down my street, headed towards my house. I don’t think I remember having told him about where I live?
Yunho’s generosity seemed to be endless—and perhaps I was already starting to get used to, which, wasn’t exactly smart on my part. Yes, he was tall, handsome, boyish, and super cute with a personality of gold, but—was I sure my mother and I would actually settle down here? Was it really smart to start crushing on my classmate? Who I’m sure everyone in this damned high-school has a crush on, because he’s really just that nice and that sweet. Teachers love him, his peers admire him and want to be around him all the time, his friends are protective of him and—don’t like me, that’s now one hundred percent sure. Why? Well, because, I was just as baffled as they were this morning when upon entering the classroom, Yunho was out of his seat, completely abandoning the conversation he was having with San in order to approach me. I—of course, like a deer caught in headlights—froze in my spot, thus blocking the entrance to the classroom—making a guy almost run into me as he was on his phone, not paying attention to what was happening in front of him. But Yunho didn’t seem to mind my momentary shock as he grinned from ear to ear, his hair very fluffy as it was even wavier than yesterday, his outfit making me gulp before I managed to compose myself and force a smile onto my lips. He wore grey tech pants with a white shirt—top two butting undone—and a grey cardigan over it and—oh, he wore a fucking silver necklace at the base of his throat, that paired with his black rings for sure made me forget what planet Earth is for a second—or two—who knows, my brain wasn’t processing well at the moment.
And to render me even more speechless, Yunho draped an arm around my shoulders and completely nonchalantly veered me towards his friends. Choi San and Song Mingi. I saw the look on their faces—a mixture of surprise and well, disgust—but San was quick to mask it with a cordial smile, while Mingi—well, he didn’t, not that I expected him to do so. And then before either could say something, Yunho announced that he’d be sitting with me in our English literature class, making me stare at him in surprise—mirroring San and Mingi’s baffled expressions. Why did I have a feeling that right now I was their number one enemy? And then, to try and appease them, I bowed and muttered a quiet ‘sorry’, before Yunho was already walking us to my usual seat, making me lick my lips as I tried to ignore the sudden nerves engulfing my whole body. And what was worse, was the fact that I could feel Mingi’s glare boring into the back of my mind during the whole class, making me scared to look back when the teacher announced that we’d have to do a project with our seatmate. Which—to my delight, but poor overreactive heart—made Yunho so excited he almost knocked over my water bottle as he started animatedly explaining which book we should choose and why. Before the bell could even ring, Mingi was out the door with a loud scoff, and San was rolling his eyes as he slowly approached us, muttering something about Mingi overreacting—again.
Currently, however, we were in the canteen, trays in our hands full of food as Mingi lead the way, his form just as tall as Yunho’s, but shoulders a little broader than Yunho’s. Not that I have paid extra close attention to Yunho’s form or anything—you know. San and Yunho were having a heated debate whether the Yorkshire Terrier or Bull Terrier was cutest, making San whine about not wanting a puppy anymore because of Yunho—which was actually hilarious to hear as I saw zero to no similarities between the two breeds, except the fact that both were named Terriers.
“Just get a cat, oh, my God, San.” Mingi snapped loudly as he slammed his tray down against a table—smaller in size than the others and more at the back of the canteen—looking up with a small glare at San, “Can you two not argue for one second?”
“What’s got your panties in a twist today, Ming?” San chuckled, raising an eyebrow as I felt a little awkward while Yunho took a seat across from Mingi. San went to sit next to Yunho, and for a second, I considered excusing myself and just sitting by myself rather than having to sit next to Mingi knowing he’d rather die—or something—than sit next to me. But, to my rescue, Yunho cleared his throat and looked at San expectantly, who quickly got the memo and chuckled, “Right.”
Then he moved to sit next to Mingi and I gulped as I took my seat next to Yunho, feeling like I was intruding—which I probably was and as if Mingi had the same train of thought, he directed a quick glare at me.
“Didn’t know we’d have to mingle with others today, is all.” He answered San’s previous question and I gulped as I looked down, placing my hands in my lap.
“Okay, Mingi.” Yunho snapped, his tone harsh—and it was surprising, I’ve never heard him speak like that before, “We’re allowed to make new friends, are we not?”
Mingi scoffed and then stuffed his mouth with a spoonful of rice, “Yeah, with people who aren’t criminals.”
“Mingi, that’s enough.” It was San talking now, face hardened and eyebrows furrowed before he looked at me, expression softening, “We don’t even know her.”
“I’m sorry, I’ll just go.” I said with a sigh, about to grab my tray when suddenly Yunho’s hand grabbed mine, eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at me.
“You’re not going anywhere,” He said, sounding quite authoritative and determined to keep me there, “Let’s play a game where we ignore Mingi, how’s that sound?”
“I don’t—”
“Oh, I really like the sound of that.” San said with a mischievous chuckle as he nudged Mingi in the side, making him roll his eyes before he wordlessly dug into his meal, going completely silent, “And at the same time I don’t like the sound of silence, so—how do you like it here, Y/N?”
I struggled to not choke on the spoonful of soup I had just taken into my mouth, a little surprised that one of Yunho’s best friends’ was addressing me directly, “Oh, I, uhm—it’s fine. I mean…the kids are nice here. Sort of.” The last part I only added in a quiet mutter, but Mingi heard it and chuckled, giving me a smirk that felt a little bit malicious. However, his expression quickly changed as he yelped, jumping in his seat before fixating his glare onto Yunho, eyes narrowing, but Yunho just continued eating like nothing happened.
“Yeah, we…weren’t the nicest, sorry about that.” San’s cheeks tinged pink as he lowered his head a little, “I was raised to know better than to judge someone so easily, so, I’d like to apologise.”
My eyes widened when San raised his head, eyes shining with sincerity and regret. I suddenly felt awkward—well, my day certainly was taking a turn for the—better? I couldn’t tell just yet. I chuckled, shaking my head as I tried to play off San’s apology, it wasn’t that big of a deal, really, “Don’t worry about it, I get it. But for the record—I have zero DNA that ties me to that evil fucker, in fact, I played the biggest part in his case as I had been victim to his—abuse.”
A tense silence fell upon the table and suddenly I gulped, feeling terrible for trauma dumping so much on these three guys. Well, if they thought they could end up liking me up until a few seconds ago, the certainly wouldn’t think so anymore. What a way to ruin something going well for myself for once. I cleared my throat, and averted my eyes when Mingi raised his head, his eyebrows were furrowed, eyes taking me in intensely. Yunho’s body emitted a lot of warmth next to me all of a sudden, and he sighed loudly, shooting a very displeased look towards his two friends, “I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to force you to share anything you didn’t want—”
“I wanted you to know, though.” I found myself saying, biting my bottom lip nervously, “I don’t exactly care what the rumours say about me, but I feel angry when I hear people associate me with that monster. He’s a terrible man and he deserves to be locked up somewhere far away from society. He’s not my father and he would’ve never been, even if my mother did end up marrying him.”
“You’re really mature for someone our age.” San commented, lips stretched into a warm and friendly smile, “Not that we aren’t mature! Actually! I am the most mature one in our friend group, you know—”
“Like hell you are.” Mingi muttered before he averted his eyes, going back to eating his lunch.
“I am always the responsible one, looking out for these two idiots—” But San ignored Mingi and then pointed at the two tall best friends, “These two are always wreaking havoc, especially Yunho! He’s all sweet and so kind, but he’s really just hiding his mischievous side. One time, in eight grade, he broke our homeroom teacher car’s windshield and—”
“Okay, enough oversharing, San!” Yunho exclaimed alarmed, crossing his arms in front of his chest in an ‘X’ manner, making me laugh as I looked at him then back at San, who had his lips pursed and eyes narrowed.
“Remember Mingi, when he stole that manga for you from the corner bookstore?” San smirked, nudging Mingi lightly, who had a frighteningly similar smirk to San’s crossing his features as he looked up.
“Oh, I do. And remember when he absolutely destroyed Mrs. Kwan’s garden while riding his bike?”
“Enough, okay?!” Yunho exclaimed, his neck, ears, and cheeks flushed a deep red, eyebrows furrowed. I pressed a palm against my mouth, trying to muffle my bubbling laughter, but when San and Mingi simultaneously wiggled their eyebrows at Yunho, I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I burst out laughing, slowly San—and surprisingly—Mingi joined us too while Yunho sulked, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed in front of his chest.
“It’s not funny!” He exclaimed, grabbing a chicken wing with his hand and biting into it, staring off to the side.
“Oh, this guy was an absolute rascal when we were younger.” Mingi said, still laughing as he threw a pickle towards Yunho, who frowned at him and quickly ate it. I chuckled, amused by the three. Okay, if they weren’t glaring and sending me displeased looks, San and Mingi could be really cool guys.
“Now I see why you’re so obsessed with Spiderman.” I said with a chuckle, grinning at Yunho as I turned my head to look at him. His cheeks were still red and his lips jutting out, he looked so adorable it was hard to hold myself back from squishing his cheeks. San’s laughter, however, very slowly died down and Mingi—surprisingly—choked on the bite he just took of his meal, having to grab his water bottle and drink in order soothe his coughs, “He’s everything you weren’t. Having him as a role model might turn you into a better man.”
“Hey!” Yunho scoffed, playfully pushing my shoulder, sending a very non-threatening glare at me, “Spiderman is just simply cool, okay? I don’t have a crush on him or anything, I just—are you saying I’m not a good person?”
“What?!” I asked alarmed, completely oblivious to the amused glances San and Mingi were exchanging between each other as Yunho narrowed his eyes at me, “I never said that! You’re—cool.”
“Like Spiderman.” Yunho added with a wink and I scoffed, going back to eating my—now—cold soup.
“I see you are acquittanced with Spiderman, then.” San mused, finally eating his meal as well, it must’ve gone cold by now. I nodded as I finished eating my soup, sneaking glances at Yunho as his attention suddenly was on the TV mounted on the wall a few feet away. His eyebrows were furrowed and so, I looked to see what was bothering him, only to be met with a pretty bad looking bank robbery. A dozen of police cars were in front of the bank and—oh, no, an armed man held someone at gunpoint. The sound was muted, but I could guess that the armed man was holding an innocent by-passer. It brought a sour taste into my mouth as I averted my eyes, skin crawling a little at the memory of my mother’s ex doing something similar, yet so much worse. Mingi and San seemed to notice Yunho’s shift in mood and both turned to look at the TV, sighing when they saw what Yunho was looking at.
“I swear to God,” Mingi started muttering, turning his head away, “There’s always something fucked up happening every other day in this city…”
“I know,” San muttered, crestfallen, “I can’t count how many times my parents planned on moving away somewhere safer.”
I gulped, hoping my mother wouldn’t want to do the same. We’ve barely been here for five days, but—I started liking it here. There was something about this place that wasn’t as awful as I initially expected it to be. Did Yunho play a part in that to make me think so?
“Hey, I—I have to go to the washroom, don’t wait for me.” Yunho sounded nervous as he scrambled out of his seat, gulping as he paused for a second, “I’ll see you all in class.”
“Are you okay?” I found myself asking before Yunho could rush off.
“Yeah, don’t worry about me!” His smile seemed forced and my eyebrows furrowed as he hurried away, towards the exit of the canteen, sprinting out of sight. My eyes went back to the TV just in time to see everyone crouched down as the armed man, no doubt, fired some shots.
“Hey, you don’t have to look at that.” San offered, voice soft, “We can change seats, if you want.”
“Oh—no, thank you.” My cheeks turned red as I averted my eyes, offering San a small smile, “And uh—thanks for letting me sit with you guys, I know you don’t like me much.”
“Well, we’ve got all year to get to know each other, right, Mingi?” San threw a pointed look at his best friend and I was surprised to find him humming absentmindedly, pushing around his food.
“He always does this,” Mingi sighed, sounding worried, “disappears randomly whenever something bad is happening in the city.”
“Yunho?” I found myself asking in a whisper, but neither heard me.
“I told you so many times you’re reading too much into it, he just probably needs to take a dump or something—” San paused, cheeks flushing as he eyed me, but I acted like I didn’t hear what he had just said. Boys will be boys, I guess, “Anyways, break ends in fifteen, let’s finish up.”
So then, Yunho disappears often? Is that what Mingi was alluding to? But where to? And why only when something bad is happening in the city?
“Yeah, whatever.” Mingi muttered, pushing his tray of food away, knocking it into Yunho’s. He eyed his best friend’s tray and then sighed, leaning back in his chair as his eyes went back to the TV. And because I couldn’t help myself, I looked back too and—there he was, Spiderman. Saving the day, apparently. I guess he really is a hero.
“Hey, Y/N,” San spoke up again, mouth stuffed with food, cheeks puffed out, “I’ve seen you reading manga in class. Mingi likes it too, did you know?”
My eyes widened as I turned my head back towards the two boys sitting across me and chuckled, a little embarrassed, I wasn’t a good liar, “Oh, I, uh, nope. I didn’t know. Wow, that’s so…cool!”
Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed for a second, looking suspicious, “Yeah, cool.”
“Yup, cool.” I chuckled and then shut up because I didn’t want to further embarrass myself.
And after we went to class, with Mingi sitting in the back with a rather gruff classmate of ours and San at the front with a guy I haven’t yet met, I got soon lost in my thoughts, eyes fixated on a vacant spot. Yunho’s usual spot. He hadn’t returned to class; half an hour had passed since he had gone to the washroom—that is if I actually believed he was at the washroom. It was less likely, but then again, why would he lie? And just as if my thoughts were synchronized with Yunho’s actions, the door was flung open and there he was, breathless, as he made his way inside.
“Sorry for being late!” He apologizes, plastering on a sheepish smile, “I—got caught up?”
The teacher narrowed her eyes for a second before muttering something and ushering Yunho towards his spot. I kept my eyes on him, taking him in as his clothes looked a little dishevelled and—was that a faint bruise on his cheek? But before I could dwell more about it, Yunho—probably having sensed my insistent stare—turned his head and smiled widely, his wavy hair falling in his chocolate brown eyes. My heart skipped a beat—stupid heart! And then, Yunho waved quickly and turned around before the teacher could chastise him for that too. God, why did he have to be so damn cute all the time?!
The first week in the big, new, city was slightly unnerving and overall, a very new feeling, however, despite that, I found myself enjoying it once I got accustomed to my surroundings. Of course, my mom won’t let me out after six o’clock in the afternoon due to the unsafety of the neighbourhood we live in, but the skatepark just two blocks down certainly is a nice stress reliever. School wasn’t too bad by the second week either, less people paid attention to me and whispered about me when I passed them in the hallways, and—besides the fact that Yunho seems to never want to stay away from me for too long—which is freaking cute and certainly so very bad as I have the fattest crush on him—by now, even San and Mingi have started warming up to me. Of course, Mingi still remains his unimpressed and emotionless self—unless Yunho is there with us—but I did manage to make him crack a smile here and there—mostly when we are talking about our favourite mangas and such. San, on the other hand, is a completely different story. After Yunho left me with him and Mingi in the canteen—you know, when he mysteriously disappeared for half an hour while there was a bank robbery going on—ever since then, San has been very happy each time the boys would hang out with me. And what was even more surprising, is that he sought out my company when he was on his own—mostly bored—and so very eager to tell me every and each cool story he manages to remember about Yunho, or himself, sometimes even Mingi. San is actually quite good at diffusing the tension created by Mingi, and he is even better at talking for hours on end without realising that Yunho—and I—have gotten tired of hearing his voice so often. But do not misunderstand, Yunho absolutely adores San, and I also happen to quite like him. He’s sweet, but fierce and unapologetically honest. Much like Mingi, which makes me think they are Yunho’s closest friends because he is too nice for his own good and would get taken advantage of if it weren’t for the two hounding him like some sort of guardians or something.
As I clutched my phone in my left hand, rolling a pencil around in my right one, I froze for a second as I heard footsteps outside of my room, down the hallway. My door was closed as I was studying—well, actually, it’s just an excuse to be able to be on my phone without my mother seeing me every time she passes by my room. However, I halted my movements as shuffling came from right outside my door, and I panickedly tried to hide my phone underneath the two textbooks and three notebooks I had laying on my desk, pretending to be super confused about the equation I had to solve, as I started pouting just as my mother opened my door.
“Hey,” She called with a smile, making me put on my best clueless act, “how’s studying going?”
“Ugh, I hate maths.” I groaned and threw my pencil on the desk as I leaned back in my seat, “Can’t I just go to the skatepark? Please, mom.”
“Honey,” My mother chuckled, leaning against the doorway with an amused grin on her lips, “that skatepark isn’t going anywhere, however, if you fail your maths class…you might have to transfer to a new school—”
“No!” I didn’t mean to shout as I shoot up straight in my chair, blushing furiously as my mother raised her eyebrows at me. God dammit, this stupid crush I have on Yunho has me acting up—even though changing high-schools does sound awful. I’ve barely been at this one for two weeks, I can’t be changing schools so soon.
“Well, if you don’t want to fail, you know what to do.” My mother said with a chuckle as I tried to hide my blush. My eyes widened when my phone started buzzing underneath all the notebooks and textbooks. God, Yunho, texting back right now isn’t the smartest idea! But of course, he can’t know that my mother is standing in my doorway, under the impression that her daughter it studying her ass off, “Dinner’s ready in an hour.”
“Cool, I’ll join you once I’ve finished this exercise.” I shot my mom a quick smile, trying not to grimace as my phone buzzed again.
“Sure,” She snorted and pushed off the doorway, gripping the doorknob as she stepped out in the hallway, “giving me your phone would make you more productive, though.”
“What phone?” I forced on a grin that showed off all my teeth, making my mother shake her head at me as she left the room, closing my door behind her. I slumped in my chair and reached for my phone, clumsily pulling it out from underneath all of my things while creating a mess—nothing new—my room is always a mess, especially my desk. But as I went to check the messages Yunho had sent, there was a soft tapping against my window, and when I turned my head to look outside—I almost screamed.
I managed to just barely muffle it by pressing my hand against my gaping mouth as freaking Spiderman hung upside down outside my window, head tilted to the side. I took a second to digest the fact that the spider, but human like, creature was right there, waving at me and no doubt smiling as I saw the mask move underneath where his mouth is. I huffed and stood, patting my chest as my heart raced furiously against my ribcage, having been scared shitless by this Spiderman guy. I unlocked the window and pushed it upwards, opening it up for him. I watched as the web string he had hung on broke as he did a flip, landing on his two long feet. I froze a little as Spiderman leaned in, resting both elbows in the windowsill, placing his chin on his palm.
“Hi.” His voice was slightly altered again, and I cleared my throat, aware that I was wearing my worst possible clothes. I wasn’t expecting visitors—let alone Spiderman, “You look like you saw a ghost or something.”
“Well, yeah,” I scoffed, smoothing down my hair, “not a ghost, but a man that calls himself a spider. Ringing the front door next time would be less heart attack inducing, Mr. Spiderman.”
I didn’t expect the dude to laugh loudly, and my eyes widened as I reached forward, pressing my hand against his masked mouth to muffle the sounds he made—if my mother hears him, she’ll come to investigate, and I’m pretty sure she won’t be too happy to find a masked man in a full body costume outside my window, claiming to be some sort of hero of the city or something. My mother has never liked these superhero kind of things.
“Yeah, don’t call me Mr. Spiderman, please, it’s really cringey.” The spidey boy shivered and I chuckled, raising my eyebrows at him.
“Why? Aren’t you a man? Why would you call yourself Spiderman if you’re not a man?” The guy remained silent for a second before he started giggling, the voice modulator not doing a very good job at altering his voice. And for a second—but just for a second—I thought it sounded like Yunho’s giggles.
“I’m a man, well…almost a man.” Spiderman paused and I gave him a confused look, “I’m only eighteen, so not quite a man just yet.”
“You’re eighteen?!” I exclaimed, glancing back to make sure my mother wouldn’t come in like a bulldozer.
“Too old for you?” Spiderman asked with a chuckle, and I narrowed my eyes at him. I swear I can hear the smirk in his voice.
“You’re the same age as me, dipshit.” I scoffed, leaning away from the window.
“Well, that’s certainly a special way to express your gratitude to the man that’s saved you once.” I bit my bottom lip, averting my eyes from the guy that was standing outside my window.
“So, do you stalk every person you manage to save?” I instead asked, trying to dodge the fact that I should be apologising for the not so nice thing I called him.
“I’m not stalking you.” He chuckled, and then pushed himself away from the windowsill, “I’m just here to make sure you’re okay—and that you’re doing your maths homework—”
“Hey!” My eyes widened as I quickly glanced at my desk, “Were you eavesdropping too?”
“Maybe?” Spiderman sounded almost embarrassed as he scratched the back of his neck, and I narrowed my eyes at him as I scoffed.
“Well, spidey boy, as you can see, I am doing just fine.” I raised my arms and did a mocking twirl for him, then placed my hands on my hips as I gave him a deadpanned look, “Anything else that I can satisfy your creepy needs with?”
“I’m not creepy!” He exclaimed quickly, making me scoff, “Okay, fine, whatever. Coming to your window maybe wasn’t very smart, but I—uh, well, do you trust me?”
“No?” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at him as if he were crazy. Spiderman heaved a loud and long sigh and then extended a hand towards me, through the open window. I crooked an eyebrow at him curiously.
“I want to show you something.” His voice was soft, the voice modulator failed to do its job again, and I found his voice to be—soothing, warm. I gulped, crossing my arms in front of my chest, “I promise you’re safe with me. I saved you once, and I’ll do it as many times I have to.”
“That very weirdly sounds like it could be a love confession, Spiderman.” I said mockingly, but found my legs carrying me closer towards him. I glanced down at my phone to check the clock, and was surprised to see that in half an hour it would be six, “My curfew is at six, though, because of the neighbourhood and my mother not trusting the people yadda-yadda-yadda, so, we have to be back before six.”
“Yeah, that’s totally cool!” Spiderman clapped his hands together, sounding very excited. I chuckled and threw my phone on my bed, chewing my on my bottom lip when I realized I still haven’t texted Yunho back. I shouldn’t make him wait— “Are you coming, then?”
I looked back at Spiderman and took a deep breath—I’m sure Yunho will understand why I didn’t text back right away, I mean, I’m literally about to be kidnapped by Spiderman or whatever—okay, I do hope it’s not actually a kidnapping.
“Where are we going?” I asked as I accepted his extended hand, finding his costume soft to the touch. The white stripes that created the illusion of web on his costume were rougher to the touch, and I tried not to stumble as I climbed through my window, closing it so it wouldn’t look like I had climbed through it. Not that it would matter, if my mother comes inside my room while I’m not here, she’ll call the police in milliseconds.
“It’s a surprise.” Spiderman said cheekily, and his weird black eye winked at me, making me give him a disgusted look, “What?”
“Your eyes are—freaky.” I muttered as I released his hand, patting my clothes down. I adjusted the flannel shirt around my shoulders as they threatened to slip down them.
“You’re full of surprises, Y/N—” Spiderman froze and I did too as we stood staring at each other in silence. Well, I have never told him my name before. Just like I hadn’t told Yunho where I lived when he walked me home the first time from the skatepark.
“It seems like you’re full of surprises too, Spiderman.” I pursed my lips and he cleared his throat, scratching his nape, no doubt feeling awkward.
“Anyways, let’s go.” He extended his hand once again and I chewed on my bottom lip as I weighted my options. To be fair, there’s only two outcomes to this if I leave with him right now. One, he shows me this super awesome surprise, and it’ll be a memory to hold onto. Two, he fucking murders me.
I took a tiny step forward and slipped my hand slowly in his, just now noticing how long and thin his fingers were as they were covered by the red fabric of his costume. I truly hope to God the second option I have in mind doesn’t come to fruition. I might be dead as fuck, but my mother will make sure to kill me twice!
“So, uhm, you, uh, have to hold onto me.” Spiderman was suddenly stammering all over himself, and I narrowed my eyes as I stepped a little closer, allowing this spider boy to sloth his fingers through mine, “Yeah, you have to come a lot closer, actually.”
“Does this usually work?” I asked, stepping in front of him, barely a few inches between us. Jesus Christ, this dude is super tall?! I have to crane my neck to look up at him; his height scarily reminds me of Yunho’s. Not that I have had the chance to stand this close to Yunho before, but his and Mingi’s heights can be quite intimidating at times—especially if Mingi is glaring at you, looking like he wishes your soul would perish right in front of his very eyes. Not cool, nor fun!
“What’s supposed to work?” Spiderman asked, sounding confused.
“Well, this is how you pick up girls, no?” I raised my eyebrows, and I swear to God, Spiderman sputtered for a second.
“No! I—I’ve never done this before!” A small pause, and then more stammering, “I mean—I have! Like, wait, not picking up girls—I’m not doing this to pick you up! However, the thing I’m about to do, yeah, I do it every time I have the suit on. It would be concerning if I didn’t, actually.”
“I’m confused.” I muttered, staring at Spiderman’s broad chest. Jesus, this guy is well doted, alright.
“Whatever, just—hold onto me, tightly.” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked up at Spiderman, only to find him already looking down at me. I sighed and took a second to figure out how to hold onto him while also keeping my distance, and so, I grabbed his shoulders with both hands, gripping it tightly. Spiderman didn’t move just yet, but then I felt his left arm around my middle, pulling me into his body. I tensed and tried to ignore the way my heart started beating fast, a little bit surprised by how warm spidey boy felt against my own body.
And then, without zero fucking preparation, Spiderman released—better said, shot—web from his right wrist—God, I really hope this dude doesn’t actually release these things from his body—and I followed with my eyes the trajectory of the web. And then, I gulped, mouth falling open quickly as Spiderman tested the durability of the web by tugging on it a few times, and then, he threw me a quick glance before he jumped. He jumped up and then—he never fucking made it back to the ground. We didn’t make it back to the ground! I gasped loudly as Spiderman’s arm tightened even more around my middle, our bodies swinging in the fucking air.
And to be fair, if spider boy loses his hearing, it’s not my fault. I didn’t even realize I had started shrieking as Spiderman shot another web from his wrist—ew—the one currently holding us snapping in two, falling to the ground. Consequently, we were free-falling in the air for a second, until our bodies were violently yanked forward again, Spiderman’s web finding the wall of another building. And I was still shrieking—right into his ear—to make matters better.
Spiderman’s hearing after our little escapade? Positively gone.
But hearing his quiet giggle somehow helped in making me shut up after another long minute of me screaming my ass off, heart hammering wildly against my chest. This was not fun! I wanted to go back home! I wanted to—oh, no. I instantly felt nauseous as I made the grave mistake of looking down past Spiderman’s shoulders, coming to the realization that we were up in the air—high up in the air! And I have Acrophobia! I squeaked like a helpless mouse as suddenly I started sweating profusely, fingers digging into Spiderman’s shoulders until I found my arms slipping further up, circling his neck as I clung onto him tightly, our bodies pressed together almost painfully tight. My hands shook as I forced my legs to raise and wrap around his waist, hooking them together behind his ass, squeezing the living shit out of his hips with my thighs. This wasn’t fun! I wasn’t enjoying this! I really really don’t like this surprise and I want to go home right now! On the ground! On my feet! Where it’s safe and I won’t be falling to my death—oh God, stop thinking about that right now!
“I have Acrophobia, you dipshit!” I found myself screaming over the wind blowing in our faces, the sounds of the city underneath us loud and making me squeeze my eyes shut as freaking birds started flying next to us. What the fuck!?
“Oh, fuck.” I heard Spiderman hiss to himself and I wanted to say, ‘yeah, oh fuck, you idiot!’, but I was frozen from fear, and couldn’t help but scream as the feeling of falling down returned, fingers—probably painfully—digging into the back of Spiderman’s head. I hope I yank on his baby hair strong enough to have him squirming in pain—wait, maybe that’s not so smart while we’re literally swinging around above the city and clinging onto some magic web or something! For a second, there was the feeling of free falling again, and then—nothing. The wind wasn’t blowing in our faces anymore, and we weren’t swinging left to right anymore either. Everything stood still around us, cars honking loudly underneath us, and rap music blasting from somewhere—we weren’t dead, right?!
I came to realize my breathing was ragged—now that we were stationary and I could actually think—and that my arms and hands were shaking uncontrollably, my whole body flushed against Spiderman’s as if I wished to become one with him. If that’s what keeps me alive while we swing above the city, we better morph into one person or something! I was too scared to open my eyes, and my muscles tensed even more when I felt two big hands run up and down my back.
“Hey, we’ve landed. You’re not in the air anymore, Y/N.” Spiderman spoke softly, and I felt him turn his head, but I only lowered mine and pressed it against his suited neck. I heard him release a small gasp as I gulped hard, trying to calm my nerves, and fight off a panic attack, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were scared of heights.”
“I need a second.” I found my voice as I croaked that out, trying to flex my fingers as they started cramping by how hard I was holding onto Spiderman.
“I can give you three more, if that’s what you need.” I felt Spiderman’s fingers tangle into my untamed hair as he tried to smooth down the wild strands, and I felt my cheeks flush. God, that’s embarrassing now.
“What I need—” I snapped, managing to detach myself from his neck finally, “is to kick your loser ass!”
And then I pried myself off his body and pulled my right fist back to swing it at his bicep. However, to my dismay, he didn’t even as much as flinch, only snorted, “I’ll break your nose if you laugh at me again! I literally have a phobia of heights and you go on and take me on a swing or whatever above the freaking city?! I’m going home—you’ve got to be kidding me.”
But finally taking a look around, realising the whereabouts of our location, I realized Spiderman landed us on a rooftop of a freaking tall building. I swung my fist at his chest this time, “Hey, hey, sorry, I didn’t know! Stop hitting me, Y/N, it tickles—”
“Tickles?!” I exclaimed and gave him a furious look as Spiderman awkwardly scrapped at his nape, angling his head downwards, “I just told you I almost died in your arms, and you tell me my punches tickle?!”
“No, no,” Spiderman suddenly rolled back his shoulders, clutching the bicep I’ve punched a minute ago, “your punches are so strong it could take down even Dr Octopus! I can’t feel my arm anymore.”
“Take down who?” My eyebrows furrowed as I stared at Spiderman, watching his fake act of being hurt as he clutched his arm as if it was about to fall off. Now he was just plainly mocking me.
“Nevermind—I’m sorry, I should have asked if you had a fear of heights first, before I took you here.” Spiderman mumbled as he scratched the back of his head, shuffling on his feet.
“Yeah, uhm, so, what are we doing here?” I asked as I circled my arms around my middle.
“Well, I wanted to show you the view but that’s not possible anymore.” He answered with a sigh, and he sounded quite defeated. I licked my lips and made sure to keep my eyes on the rooftop’s ground instead of looking around. I would pass out surely, and my hands are still trembling, my heart beating fast.
“Is this spot significant or something?” I mumbled as I kicked at nothing in particular.
“Yeah, when I’m stressed or worried, I come here to clear my mind.” Spiderman answered, walking to the edge of the rooftop. My heart did a somersault until I remembered literally nothing can happen to him, he sticks to things like a real spider—freaky.
“So, what’s got your stressed or worried right now?” I found myself asking as I crouched down, a little nauseated when Spiderman leaned over the edge, staring down at the bustling city underneath us. The people on the streets, the honking cars and music coming from down the street created a disturbing cacophony up here, but down there, it never sounded this messy.
“Nothing, I just wished to show you this place.”
“Why?” I asked as I looked up, finding him already looking at me. His eyes blinked, a feature of his mask I wished he didn’t have. It was weird, I didn’t like it.
“No particular reason.” Spiderman answered after he cleared his throat, however it didn’t sound sincere. He averted his eyes as he turned around and sat down on the ledge, swinging his legs over. I inhaled sharply, palms balling up into fists at his actions. I had to remind himself that he literally can’t die even if the wind pushes him over. Me—on the other hand—can and would one hundred percent die. And so, I found myself on my knees and hands as I slowly crawled towards him, trying to regulate my breaths as my heart started hammering in my chest again. As Spiderman heard movement, he tuned his head abruptly.
“What are you doing?” He sounded amused as he asked, looking down at me with his freaky blinking black mask eyes.
“I’m joining you without actually joining you.” I muttered as I reached the ledge, thankfully the brick wall reached up to one’s waist and I couldn’t see down as I sat down, turning my back to the ledge, and leaning against the cold structure. Spiderman’s eyes remained on me as I hugged my knees to my chest before I looked up at him, “Well, I’m sure the view is pretty.”
“Yeah, it is.” He whispered; eyes boring into mine. I gulped, something stirring in my stomach. I seriously am not about to develop a stupid crush on Spiderman too, right?! That would be freaking embarrassing. I already have a crush on Yunho and it’s more than enough—in fact, it’s fucking mortifying, because how am I supposed to act normal when I’m around him, and all I want to do is get lost in his beautiful chocolate brown eyes and listen to his soft voice all day long while demanding him to engulf me in his warm arms, swallow me up against his broad chest?! I have to stop thinking about Yunho right now—or whenever I feel my mind slipping into delusion land.
“So, Spiderman, what’s your story?” I raised my eyebrows at him, chuckling as Yunho came to mind again despite my efforts, “I have a friend who’s in love with you—”
“He’s not—” Spiderman cleared his throat, patting his chest, “Sorry, you were saying?”
“Right,” I narrowed my eyes at the guy and he swiftly turned his head away, looking down at the city, “so, I have this friend who really likes you—even has a Spiderman phone case—and I’m just curious to hear your story. You know, from someone who’s not a die-hard fan and sugarcoats things.”
“There’s no big story, to be honest.” Spiderman shrugged, fiddling with his fingers in his lap—Yunho often does that when he’s nervous, “I try to keep the order in the city and help the innocent, and those in need. It took the police some time until they started trusting me and liking me, but things aren’t as chaotic as they were before.”
“But, wait.” My eyebrows furrowed as I crossed my arms in front of my chest, “If you’re eighteen now, for how long have you been Spiderman? Assuming that you weren’t born like this…?”
“It’s almost scary how much you know about me.” Spiderman teased and I huffed, rolling my eyes, “I’ve been Spiderman ever since I turned sixteen.”
“Wow.” I muttered, looking back up at the guy. He’s been putting his life on the line for two years now, that’s really selfless. Perhaps I can see why Yunho admires him so much, “Are you ever scared? That you’ll get really hurt or something. Does anyone know your real identity?”
“Yes, I do get scared, and yes, the guy who I grew up with knows about my identity.” The guy answered, placing his hands on both sides of his thighs as he started swinging his legs, “I can’t tell many people though, and that was really hard at the beginning. I hate lying, can’t lie well either if I’m being honest, and it just feels wrong to keep secrets from the people closest to me. However, it ensures their safety, so, at the same time I don’t mind keeping it from them.”
“For an eighteen-year-old dude,” I chuckled, leaning my head back against the brick wall, “you are quite mature.”
“Well, when you chase and fight criminals daily, you are forced to mature early.”
“Did you want to become like this? Turn into Spiderman?”
“No, my high-school was visiting a lab and a spider that was genetically mutated bit me.” Spiderman’s voice was quiet, and he sighed loudly soon after, “In case you’re wondering, I don’t regret it. I love being Spiderman even if at times I have to bring sacrifices.”
“Yeah, that’s unpleasant.” I muttered, resting my chin on my knees. I knew what it meant to bring sacrifices for those you loved, and it almost always wasn’t by your choice, but something you just had to do. Ugh, not me suddenly turning bitter and nostalgic. Spiderman coughed shortly, and I felt fingers in my hair. I tensed for a second, but then his long fingers were out of my hair the following second.
“You had a bug in your hair.” Spiderman explained and I hummed, turning my head to rest my right cheek on my knees so that I could look up at him, “What about you, Y/N, what’s your story?”
I chuckled, averting my eyes as I pursed my lips, “It’s not as noble as yours, that’s for sure, spidey boy.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Well, there’s just my mom and I around, and we’ve moved to the city two weeks ago.” I sighed, closing my eyes as the evening breeze picked up, it wasn’t warm, but at least it wasn’t too cold just yet, “My father abandoned us a month before I was born, so my mom raised me up all alone with her mother’s help sometimes. She had her fair share of questionable partners, but they were never as evil as her last ex-fiancé.
“The guy was a criminal, he murdered three people and then tried to blame it on being so crazily in love with my mother that he wasn’t completely sane anymore. It was fucking comical; I hate that piece of shit. He’s threatened me numerous times and would throw me around the house when mom wasn’t around, saying how I’d end up six feet under if I didn’t keep my mouth shut about it.
“He never liked me for some reason, always claimed my mom focused more on me than on him—the fucking idiot. He has hit me a few times, and once my mother finally noticed, she tried to leave him, but he threatened to kill us. It was crazy, absolute madness, trying to get away from him—until the police came knocking on our door one night, claiming that they were there to arrest my mom’s ex for murder. The whole town was freaking shook, us included.”
Well, and that’s on trauma dumping, I guess. But he asked, after all, and I just told Mr. Spidey my story. It felt nice letting someone know about my past, however, it didn’t exactly feel right that I said all that to a stranger. I always thought Yunho would be the first person to find out about the whole story behind our recent move.
I gulped, feeling slightly guilty for having told all that to Spiderman, and I jumped when I felt fingers touching my cheek. I blinked my eyes open, finding Spiderman on his knees as he was leaned over, down towards me, fingers gently pressing against my cheek, “Nothing like that will ever again happen to you, Y/N, I promise. As long as I live, I promise to protect you.”
My eyebrows furrowed as I raised my head up from my knees, Spiderman’s warm hand cupping my face, “You don’t even know me, Spiderman.”
“I know enough.” He whispered and I gulped, heart beating fast as we gazed into each other’s eyes, his black mask unblinking for once. My lips parted and I shivered as the breeze turned stronger, Spiderman’s thumb gently rubbing my chin. It felt like I couldn’t look away, like the gap was slowly closing between us—until an alarm went off blaring, making both of us jump. Spiderman was up on his feet in a second, looking down at his wrist watch.
“Well, your curfew starts in ten minutes.” His voice was a little hoarse and he quickly cleared his throat, “We should head back if we don’t want your mom freaking out.”
“I’m not swinging around in your arms above the city again, Spidey!” I snapped, giving him a pointed glare as he jumped off the ledge, crouching down in front of me.
“The closest station is a five-minute walk away from here and the bus won’t come for another ten minutes. If I count correctly, that’s past your curfew, and there’s no direct bus to your neighbourhood from here.” Spiderman sounded smug as I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Where even are we?”
“The east end of the city—”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. That’s a fourteen-minute ride by bus! My mom is so going to kill me tonight.
“Just hold on tight, and I promise not to drop you—”
“That’s not funny!” I snapped as I shakily stood, glaring at Spiderman. But he just chuckled, clearly amused.
“You were like a koala when we came here, it was cute.”
“Shut up.” I grumbled, trying to ignore the way my cheeks flushed when Spiderman opened his arms for me. This is the first and last time he carries me around the city like this.
Spiderman didn’t show up again at my window to whisk me away for a—swing? —maybe he was just too embarrassed to show his face again. Well, masked face. Admittedly, there’s been only three days since I was visited by the superhero, randomly on a Tuesday afternoon, and trust for me to brag all about it to Yunho. Not that I was mocking him—maybe a little bit—about getting to meet his superhero in person before he did, it’s just that it was funny seeing his reactions as I retold everything to him. He seemed to be even more excited when he heard it in person, as I had called him the second I got home from the outing. Now, school was finally over and I could go home and sleep. The city was buzzing with life last night and the police raided our street around midnight, talk about a man having escaped form an asylum spread around fast. Apparently, the man had been hiding in the basement of one of my neighbour’s houses’. Creepy. Spiderman, surprisingly, didn’t show up, but I suppose it wasn’t necessarily an emergency as it wasn’t a very dangerous person. Besides, I think Spiderman also needs his beauty sleep—like us, mere mortals do.
I stretched as we walked through the gates of the high-school, greeting the groundkeeper as he shot us a look since San was cackling loudly as he watched a video on his phone, volume cranked up to the maximum. Mingi had his arm thrown around Yunho’s shoulders, lips pursed as he watched some younger girls run past them while giggling and shooting them stares.
“Do you think Bomi will finally ask me out?” Mingi mused quietly, turning his head to stare at the long-haired girl that had just passed by with her friends.
“Don’t know, have you finally spoken to each other?” Yunho raised his eyebrows at his best friend, expertly grabbing the strap of my backpack as he halted my steps, yanking me backwards and out of the way of a speeding bike.
“Jesus.” I hissed, clutching my skateboard to my chest, “What an idiot—”
“Hey, watch it, you!” San shouted after the guy, who was already at the end of the street, “You could run over someone!”
“Nice reflexes.” Mingi teased, and detached himself from his friend at last. I gulped and turned to thank Yunho; my cheeks flushed pink. Well, that was embarrassing, but it could’ve ended a lot worse.
“Thank you.”
“No problem.” Yunho’s smile was soft and warm, and I gulped, averting my eyes quickly. But fucking hell, Mingi and I made eye contact, and he narrowed his eyes at me. That dude is onto something and I don’t like how easily he can see right through me.
“We haven’t spoken to each other yet…” Mingi casually continued the conversation he was having with Yunho, deep voice trailing off.
San chuckled amused, finally stopping the video on his phone as he raised his head, “Well, then, what are you expecting? She won’t ask you out if you don’t talk to her—wait, why are you sure she’s into you? She could be into me, or even Yunho.”
I pursed my lips, totally not feeling jealous over the fact that other living people could have a crush on Yunho! And let’s be real, who the hell wouldn’t have a crush on freaking Yunho?! He’s basically—perfect!
“You underestimate my awesomeness, San.” Mingi huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “And she’s not into you, you’re too short.”
“Hey, I’m not short!” San exclaimed offended, then looked at me with round eyes, “I’m not short, right?!”
“Of course not.” I chuckled, smiling at him, “It’s Mingi who’s too tall.”
“Says the midget.” Mingi scoffed, throwing me a glare. Will this dude ever like me?
“Okay, let’s stop shaming each other for our heights—or anything else, actually.” Yunho, always the peacemaker, grinned as he squeezed Mingi’s shoulder once, and then draped his long arm around my own shoulders, making my heart somersault in my chest.
“We’ll talk about this more later,” San said, eyes narrowed, “I have to catch my bus now, see ya!”
And with a wave, he ran off, totally in the complete opposite of where his bus stop was. I watched on as he caught up with a guy from our class, I have finally learned his name—Jung Wooyoung—and the two hugged briefly as San grabbed the guy’s arm and started yanking him towards the metro station. Yeah, they certainly weren’t headed home.
“Are you coming over?” I focused back on the two tall best friends, Mingi’s voice quiet as he looked at Yunho. I knew the offer didn’t stand for me as well, Mingi would never invite me over to his place.
“Not today.” Yunho had an apologetic look on his face, and then he squeezed my shoulder, “I’ve got something else to do.”
“Asshole,” Mingi whispered with a pout as a black car pulled up next to us, “see you two tomorrow, then.”
“Stop being so dramatic, you know I love you.” Yunho managed to ruffle Mingi’s hair before he got in the car, making Mingi scoff as a smile blossomed on his face.
“Yeah, whatever, love you too.” And then he opened the door and sat inside, but he didn’t close the door until the threw me a look that made me gulp. What did I do to make this guy dislike me so much?! At this point, I have given up, there’s no point in trying to decipher the riddle that Song Mingi is.
Suddenly, super aware that Yunho and I were alone now as the black car drove off, I gulped and clutched my skateboard just a little tighter. I took a peek at Yunho, and he was already looking down at me with a small smile, “So, do you want to go home right away?”
“Depends, why?” I asked quietly, praying to God my face wouldn’t turn into a tomato as Yunho slightly leaned down, closer to my face.
“There’s a really nice park not even ten minutes away from here, wanna go?” Of course, I want to go, Jeong Yunho.
“Sure.” I nodded, smiling back at him, face burning. Great, only a blind man would be oblivious to the fat-ass crush I have on Yunho at this point! It’s so embarrassing, but I can’t help it when he looks so—cute!
“See that convenience store there?” He turned his head and pointed at the store, which was just down the road. I nodded, and looked at him with a questioning gaze, “Race you there!”
And before I could fully register what he said, Yunho released me and took off in a sprint towards the convenience store. My mouth opened in surprise and I blinked, finally somehow realizing we were competing to see who gets there first. But with Yunho having a head start, I grinned and dropped my skateboard onto the ground. I quickly pushed off and gained more speed as I manoeuvred between the people on the sidewalk, grinning from ear to ear as I started gaining on Yunho. He’s really fast, but it shouldn’t be so surprising as I have seen him in P.E. class already, and he’s one of the best athletes I know. He’s agile and super-fast, he has good reflexes, and is a total team player. The guys love picking him in their team when they are playing football. I giggled as I came up just behind Yunho, pushing harder as my foot hit the pavement, the wind whipping my hair in my face for a second as the store came into view. We were almost there. I did an ollie to jump over the top of a drain, managing to come up a little ahead of Yunho. I laughed as I rolled forward, just barely making it to the convenience store first. I did a small spin and then set my foot down, coming to a stop as Yunho reached me. He was breathing hard as he leaned over, placing his hands on his knees. I grinned at him, and gripped the foot of my skateboard, reaching out to ruffle his fluffy greyish-greenish-blueish hair. I have never done that before, and for a second, I panicked, but Yunho didn’t react badly to my action, he just smiled and shook his head.
“I didn’t think I’d lose.” He said with a laugh and then stood up straight, running his long fingers through his hair. He wore more rings today, and one looked suspiciously like a ring I have seen Mingi wear before.
“You can’t win at everything, Yunho.” I stuck my tongue out playfully before I turned to walk inside the convenience store, “I’ve never met a more competitive person than you are.”
“Sorry, I can’t help it,” Yunho chuckled as he followed closely behind me, looking at the shelves as we went down the snack aisle, “But you can’t say it wasn’t fun.”
“It was.” I looked over my shoulder with a grin as Yunho grabbed some potato chips off a high shelf, “But next time give me a warning, I only got lucky because I had my skateboard with me. You didn’t play fairly.”
Yunho chuckled and I grabbed some salty crackers, “Sometimes we need the element of surprise, Y/N, in order to excel.”
“Aha, so now you’re saying you knew I would win if you didn’t warn me first?” I raised an eyebrow at him, making Yunho chuckle as he grabbed my shoulder and veered me towards the fridges in the back.
“I knew you’d win.” He muttered and I tried not to blush—again—as I opened the fridge and grabbed some Sprite, while Yunho grabbed a larger bottle of water, leaning over me to retrieve it and—yeah, I tried not to pass out as I felt his breath hit the top of my head, his warmth radiating off him due to our closeness. However, the moment was over as quickly as it came.
Thankfully, I still had the money my mother gave me last week, otherwise it’d be really embarrassing to have Yunho buy something for me again. Well, technically, last time neither one of us paid for it at Hongjoong’s store, but still. I didn’t want him paying for my things, I’d feel like I owe it to him now.
We approached the front desk and the clerk looked very bored and done with us as he gave us a glare—similar to Mingi’s, and it made snort quietly—as he scanned our items. I had pulled the money out of the front pocket of my backpack as the clerk told us our total, and I was totally handing him the amount I had to pay for, when Yunho pushed my wrist to the side and placed the whole sum on the counter. I opened my mouth to clearly argue with him, but he grabbed our items and grinned so widely I feared it would be the reason why I’d go blind—and not from the fact that I’ve been trying to look into the sun for ages now without squinting my eyes, not too smart, but I never claimed to be smart. I muttered a goodbye to the clerk as Yunho pushed the door open for me and stepped outside to make enough space for me to pass through the narrow doorway.
“Let me carry my things.” I said as the door closed behind us, but Yunho just shook his head.
“You have to carry your skateboard, don’t fret about it.” My eyebrows furrowed as he took off towards the park he had mention, I could see it from here. It was just a little up ahead of us, to the right, between three buildings.
“I’ll give you my part of the sum when we have sat down.” I said as I tried to keep up with his long strides—damn his long legs, God has favourites, and as much as Yunho is one of his favourites, I certainly am not.
“Nah, you don’t have to.” Yunho grinned, and I noticed a gummy worm hanging out from the corner of his mouth.
“Yes, I do.” I huffed, walking towards the gate of the park, “And where’d you get that gummy from?”
“From here.” And he pointed at the pocket of his suit jacket—who the hell wears a suit jacket to school, good lord it’s so hot when Yunho wears it, I seriously had trouble focusing all day long because of it. I reached my hand out and stole a gummy worm from his pocket, giggling as I made disgusting slurping noises as I put it in my mouth, and sucked it in in one go. Yunho’s eyebrows raised before he burst out into deep giggles, throwing his head back a little—and I choked, almost. I coughed as the gummy worm almost managed to slip down my throat, but I saved it somehow last minute. Eating gummy worms around Jeong Yunho is dangerous, noted.
“Why was that kind of cute?” Yunho asked with a chuckle as he chose a spot to sit, underneath a tall tree, offering us enough shade from the, now, not so hot sun. I placed my skateboard down, and followed Yunho as he plopped down, the sound of his butt colliding with the grass making me snort. He looked up at me with a pout and then grabbed my arm and pulled me down, almost making me fall into his freaking lap. It didn’t even take a second for my cheeks to turn pink, and I threw Yunho a small glare as I regained my balance and sat down next to him, mirroring his position. Our backs were leaning against the tree, legs splayed out long in front of us as I took my crackers and Sprite from Yunho.
“What was cute?” I asked as I opened the bag of crackers, desperate to wash away the extra sweet taste that remained in my mouth due to the gummy worm.
“You,” Yunho muttered, opening his water bottle, “and the sound you made. You’re funny.”
“I didn’t think you’d find me acting like an Ogre cute, but thank you, I guess.” My comment made Yunho laugh hard again as he threw his head back, prompting me to giggle along. His laughter was contagious, and I realized my stomach was coiling tightly—and not due to the sweets and unhealthy food I have digested so far today. It was because of Yunho, and because all I want to do right now is to lean up and press a kiss against his cheek. God dammit.
“You’d make a cute Ogre.” Yunho mused once he had calmed down, then took a sip of his water.
“Please,” I playfully rolled my eyes, popping another salty cracker into my mouth, “you’d be totally into the green swamp monster I’d turn into. Fiona’s got nothing on me.”
“Not the way I thought you’d find this out about me, but—” Yunho paused for dramatic effect, and I raised my eyebrows at him, “I’m totally into Fiona, have been since I was little.”
“Oh, my God!” I cackled, shielding my mouth with my hand as I still haven’t chewed all the crackers, “Yunho! That’s just—you have to explain yourself now!”
“Why, don’t tell me you never had a crush on a fictional character!?” Yunho exclaimed, sounding exasperated as he bumped his shoulder against mine. I licked my lips and tried not to burst out laughing at the memory of who I’ve always had a crush on when I was younger.
“Okay…” I took a deep breath and turned my head to face Yunho, “Have you ever heard about the cartoon ‘W.I.T.C.H.’?”
“Yeah, Hongjoong really liked it while we were growing up,” Yunho said with a chuckle, “He’d make us watch it every evening when they played it on the TV, I think he was into Cornelia.”
“Well, Cornelia is a good, and hot, choice to have a crush on, indeed.” I pursed my lips and offered my bag of crackers to Yunho, who took one with a small grin, “I mean, I was totally into Caleb, but—”
“Really? Caleb?” Yunho asked surprised, narrowing his eyes, “I thought you’re more of a Matt girl.”
“Well, I’m actual neither a Caleb nor Matt girl, Yunho.” I giggled, leaning in closer as if I was telling a secret, “You see, I always found myself blushing a little bit too hard when Lord Cedric was on the screen—”
“No way!” Yunho exclaimed, eyes turning round as he looked shocked, “The snake guy?!”
“Well, don’t look at me like that after admitting you’re into Fiona!” I exclaimed back with a laugh, making Yunho look at me like I was crazy.
“Fiona was a princess who decided to turn into an Ogre to stay with the love of her life, meanwhile, Lord Cedric was obsessed with his king, he could into a snake, and he once ate someone, Y/N!” I bit my bottom lip, trying not to laugh at how passionate Yunho was all of a sudden.
“Each to its own, I guess.” I said nonchalantly with a shrug, making Yunho’s initial shock turn into amusement as he started laughing once again. I’ve never heard him laugh so much before, and I found myself smiling at him as his ears turned slightly rosy, eyes screwed shut as his shoulders shook from laughter. He looked completely and absolutely beautiful, and my heart was hammering against my ribcage, threating to fall out of my ass at any given moment. Oh, God, I’m so screwed.
“I swear to God, you and Mingi are cut from the same cloth. He’s also into weird humanlike creatures or something.” Yunho said once he had calmed down, and I quickly turned my head away when he looked at me, feeling like he caught me staring and admiring him.
“Not you shaming both Mingi and I for having silly childhood crushes.” I said with a pout, throwing a cracker into my mouth.
“Mingi still crushes on characters like those, though.” I chuckled, glancing at Yunho from the corner of my eyes, finding him looking at me with a small smile on his lips, cheeks flushed. God, he’s not blushing, right?! Why would he blush, it must be the sun. Yup, certainly the sun!
“I’ll tell him you made fun of him behind his back.” I teased as Yunho grabbed a cracker, leaning his head back against the tree.
“I fear it won’t phase him; San makes fun of him daily for it.” Yunho said, sounding amused. I chuckled and copied Yunho as I leaned my head back against the tree too, suddenly becoming aware of how close we were sitting next to each other. Our shoulders and thighs were pressed together, and Yunho’s elbow was softly poking into my stomach. I bit my lower lip and allowed the comfortable silence to settle upon us, watching the people that passed by the park. The traffic wasn’t so bad here, and there was a bus stop straight across the park. A sports car, with a super loud engine drove past, the sound making me wince for a second. And as I watched a mother with her two children open the gate of the park, I felt a hand in my hair, fingers twirling a longer strand. My heart stilled for a second, knowing well that it was Yunho, and I took a peek at him.
“Oh,” He suddenly retracted his hand, looking away embarrassed, “sorry, there was uh—something in your hair. A bug.”
Funny, Spiderman did that too.
“Thanks.” I offered him a small smile and watched as he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, funny how that now reminded me of Spiderman too, “I hate bugs.”
“I’m not afraid of them.” Yunho said as he finally looked me in the eyes, his ears, however, still slightly red.
“Aren’t you a cool guy, Jeong Yunho?” I winked playfully and Yunho chuckled before we became silent again. I popped another cracker into my mouth and then offered the bag to Yunho, who took some more, and funnily stuffed his mouth full of them. I chuckled and proceeded to eat some more too, placing my left hand on my thigh as I tried to enjoy this peaceful moment. I’ve never had this back in my hometown. I didn’t have many people to hang out with, and the ones I did hang out with were always the bad type of kids, kids who wanted to break the rules and bother others. It was nice to finally embrace the tranquillity, and just simply exist without ruining others fun. Many people didn’t like me back in my hometown due to me associating myself with those rascals.
Lost in my thoughts, I failed to notice that something was softly poking my hand, the feeling just barely there, like the ghost of a touch. I watched the two children play around, climb into the smaller trees and wave at their mother as they laughed. When the light touch became more insistent, I flipped my hand around, thinking it was just an ant or something that I could flick away, but instead, I felt warm fingertips just barely trace the lines of my palm. I gulped and tried not to tense up as I looked down, eyes falling on Yunho’s hand as his long fingers pushed a little more decisively against my palm. I blinked and looked up at Yunho, but he was looking down at our hands, lips parted as if he was in a trance. I was curious—I had to know—so without thinking much, I gently intertwined our fingers, and waited. For something to happen, anything. But other than a tiny smile appearing on Yunho’s lips and his grip turning slightly firmer, nothing happened. Well, nothing besides the frightening feeling of my heart exploding out of my chest, and my cheeks burning so much you could probably fry a steak on it or something. I didn’t know where to put this exactly, what to think of it, but the seemingly trance Yunho was in, was broken the second loud sirens rung and police cars were suddenly wheezing down the street, the loud noise disturbing the tranquil atmosphere that had settled around us. Yunho became instantly tense as his head snapped up, eyes focused up ahead as he untangled his hand from mine, grabbing his backpack. I watched him curiously as he took his phone and opened it up, eyebrows furrowing deeply.
“I—I, uh, I have to go.” My eyebrows furrowed as I watched Yunho scramble up, leaving his water and potato chips on the ground, “My mom just texted me; something came up—I have to go.”
“Is everything alright?” I asked worried, watching Yunho bounce on his feet as he looked one second away from sprinting off.
“Yeah, it’s—everything’s okay, I just really have to go right now.” He finally looked at me, chewing on his bottom lip, looking like he was hesitating, “Don’t wait for me, your bus will come in ten minutes. Get home safely, text me when you do.”
“Oh, okay, uhm, you take care too.” But Yunho ran off before I could even finish my sentence, and I watched impressed as he jumped over the fence—which wasn’t very tall, but I wouldn’t have been able to do that surely—and then he was sprinting down the sidewalk, apologising to people as he had to push them out of his way.
Huh, that was weird and another interesting coincidence. I couldn’t help but think back to Mingi mentioning Yunho’s disappearances whenever something major and bad was happening in the city. Certainly, they were mere coincidences.
But Yunho never quite texted back yesterday, and it would be a lie if I say I didn’t worry about him. His departure from the park was sudden, and his absence conjured up all sorts of thoughts in my mind. It was strange and very unlike Yunho. When I was on the bus, headed to school and completely sleepy and almost out of it, I was scrolling through Tik Tok, trying to awaken myself a little bit after I have texted San to inquire information about Yunho. He reassured me that there were days when Yunho would go low on contact, but he was completely fine, and that usually he spent his time with family when he wouldn’t text back. I could understand that, but it still worried me. Just as I was about to exit the app, I came across a crappy video on my for your page that depicted many police cars and even more officers as they had someone surrounded. And then, the superhero, the one that always saves the day around here, Spiderman swooped in and all you could see was his web flying around, and a man getting strapped to a pole until a gunshot rang out followed by a loud cry of pain, and then the video cut off. My eyebrows furrowed as I let it replay again, chewing on my bottom lip nervously. Who got hurt? You couldn’t see it in the video, and I couldn’t help but think that it was Spiderman. Without thinking much, I sent the video to San and asked if he knew anything. The reply, unsurprisingly, came fast, and he said that Spiderman got injured yesterday as one of the criminal’s managed to escape. He got shot in his left leg. I cringed at the thought, and then put my phone away having arrived to the high-school. I certainly wasn’t in the mood nor headspace to attend any of my classes today, but at least I’d get to see Yunho, and make sure that he’s okay.
Except that, very uncharacteristically to Yunho, he showed up a little late to our first class, and he even looked quite dishevelled with dark bags under his eyes. He looked like he didn’t have a good night’s sleep and—I almost failed to notice the slight limp he had in his left leg. Huh, I wonder if anything happened, or have I started seeing things now? However, I didn’t get many chances to ask Yunho about it as he seemed to be always busy talking to our teachers, or to everyone else in the hallways, barely paying attention to San, Mingi, or even me. It was strange, but San said it was completely normal behaviour coming from Yunho, and that he’d do this from time to time when he felt pressured. Apparently, Yunho rarely opens up to his best friends as he hates bothering others with his issues. But I wanted to know what was bothering him. He wouldn’t be a bother to me. But I couldn’t do that as he only sat for us for five minutes in the canteen during our lunch break, and then rushed off saying he had something to take care of. But after that, he never returned to classes. My texts also went unanswered, and by the evening, I was positively nervous and stressed out of my mind by the fact that I didn’t know what was wrong. I even debated on asking San for Yunho’s home address to pay him a quick visit in order to make sure that he was indeed okay. Even my mom noticed how absentminded and worried I was during dinner, but didn’t pester me much when I lied that the teachers were stressing me out with upcoming tests—which maybe wasn’t too smart as she told me I should study even more. Ugh.
Currently, we have finished having dinner and I have tied the trash bag together to take the trash out. I slipped on my outdoor shoes swiftly and unlocked the front door, my mom’s series playing loudly in the living room as she giggled at whatever was said. The air was chilly outside and the single long-sleeved blouse and joggers I was wearing did an awful job at keeping me warm, so, I quickly skipped down the stairs and went to the small alley between our house and the building. That’s where the big trash bins were, by the tall fence. It was dark outside, so I tried to be quick as I dragged the trash bag after me, shivering due to the cold. I huffed loudly, smog leaving my mouth, as I rounded the corner and gave the short alleyway a quick check that it was empty before I hurried down, opening the big trash bin. I threw the bag inside and let it shut loudly afterwards. I rubbed my arms up and down as I turned around and walked back down the alleyway, gasping loudly as a silhouette appeared right around the corner. It was hunched over slightly and breathing loudly, groaning too. God, I fucking hate this neighbourhood, why do I always have to encounter random drunk people or even worse—criminals!? But I really had to head back inside the house—climbing through my window wasn’t an option as it was locked—and I willed myself to just run past them and back inside the safety of my house. However, just as I made it under the streetlamp, I paused. The red and blue suit was torn at the chest, and Spiderman seemed to be struggling to stand up straight.
“Oh, my God!” I whispered, approaching him, “What happened to you?!”
“Oh, Y/N.” He muttered, groaning again as he tried to stand up tall.
“Stop that,” I hissed, eyebrows furrowing as I tried to inspect his wound, but it wasn’t visible through the gash on the suit, “Come on.”
Spiderman only resisted for a second as I placed his arm around my shoulders, offering him support as he leaned against my much smaller frame. He was heavy, but I was determined, and the front porch was barely a few steps away, “What are you doing?”
“Taking you inside my house, think you can keep quiet until we reach my room?” I looked up at Spiderman, who gulped as we reached the front steps.
“Yeah.” He whispered and I let out a small sigh, taking one step at a time as we ascended the stairs. I pushed the door open carefully and walked us inside, pausing in the hallway to make sure my mother was still in the living room, watching her series. I looked at Spiderman and signalled to him to remain quiet as I lead us down the hallway, headed for my room. I opened the door and helped him towards my bed, on which he fell down quite unceremoniously, groaning loudly.
“Okay, you still have to keep quiet.” I said with a frown, glancing behind me, “I’ll be back in a second with a medical kit.”
Spiderman nodded and I swiftly left my room, pulling the door shut until it was only slightly ajar, and sneaked back down the hallway. I opened the front door again and closed it louder, locking it up, “Mom, I’m going to bed now! I’m really sleepy.”
“Alright, sweet dreams, honey.” She threw a flying kiss my way as she glanced back and I smiled, catching it playfully before I was off, headed for the bathroom. I took the medical kit from underneath the small cupboard we had in there, and then I was back inside my room, closing and locking the door after myself.
“Alright,” I whispered, looking at Spiderman and trying not to panic as I noticed blood seeping through his suit, “how do we do this?”
“Uh,” He groaned again, sitting up lightly, “you can patch me up through the costume.”
“I can?” I muttered confused as I walked closer, placing the kit down by the bed as I crouched down. I leaned closer to his chest and carefully touched the costume, not too surprised to find it not peeling off his body, “I can’t, Spiderman, the costume literally clings to your body.”
“Oh, that’s not good.” He mused, scratching his nape, “I have to take it off, then.”
“Oh—like—the whole costume?” My voice was squeaky all of a sudden, and I averted my eyes as I felt myself blush lightly.
“Uh, yeah.” Spiderman whispered and I gulped, trying not to freak out. Yeah, this is cool and totally okay, nothing too sensational. I’m just helping a wounded guy, no biggie, it’s not like I’m going to see him naked! He must have underwear on, right?!
“I think I accidentally took some of my mom’s exe’s clothes with me when I was packing, let me check.” And I stood up and hurried over to my closet, finding the sweatpants and t-shirt that I had in mind.
“Great.” Spiderman grumbled and I rolled my eyes.
“Hey, you don’t get to be picky when you’re about to bleed out on my bed!” I hissed, trying to control my tone and not raise my voice out of fear of alerting my mom.
“Right, sorry.” Spiderman muttered and I approached him again.
“How do we take the suit off?” I asked, eyebrows furrowed. I’ve never seen something like this before, so I have no idea what superheroes do in this case.
“There’s a zipper on the back.” He explained and I nodded, going to the side of the bed to be able to see Spiderman’s back.
“Will—will the mask come off too?” I asked in a whisper as I hesitated to touch the zipper.
“No, don’t worry.” Spiderman answered and I huffed, gripping the zipper and carefully undoing it. It went all the way down to his lower back, and I blinked a few times as I tried to ignore the smooth skin underneath the suit.
“Uh, right, I assume you can undress yourself the rest of the way?” I asked as I stepped back, averting my eyes as my cheeks were burning.
“Yeah, one second.” Spiderman huffed and he carefully stood, groaning quietly. I closed my eyes and shrivelled around, not too keen of staring at him while he changes out of his costume. I might see something I don’t want to, and that’s not cool. I listened closely as he shuffled around, groaned a few times, and then plopped back down on the bed, “Okay, I have changed.”
“Great—” I gasped as my eyes fell on his exposed torso, eyes widening at the big gash running across his chest, “Shouldn’t you be in the hospital right now?!”
Spiderman chuckled, and my eyebrows furrowed more as I went back to my previous position in front of him. I kneeled and took the medical kit, opening it up.
“If we clean the wound, it’ll take around two to three hours to heal by itself.” He said, tone reassuring as I grabbed some gauze and rubbing alcohol, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
“So, then, did you get shot yesterday?” I asked, pouring rubbing alcohol on the gauze before I looked up, “I saw the videos.”
The sight of having Spiderman in nothing but sweatpants and his mask, sitting on my is bed certainly—a sight to behold. Perhaps if he wasn’t hurt at the moment, I’d be gaping at his well-defined physique, his lean muscles, the faint abs on his stomach, his wide shoulder and broad chest—focus, woman!
“Yeah, I did get shot.” Spiderman said, and I hoped he’d ignore the way I tried not to thirst over his body. I’m such a horrible person right now, kill me.
“This will hurt, I assume.” I warned as I leaned up and gently pressed the gauze against the edge of the gash, making Spiderman hiss, “Sorry, I did warn you though.”
“I know, don’t worry.” He chuckled and I noticed his hands balling up the blanket as he gulped loudly the lower my hand slipped on the gash, trying to clean the wound as carefully but thoroughly as possible.
“Is your leg fine, then?” I asked, trying to avert his attention from the pain. Spiderman hummed, low in his chest, almost rumbling under my touch. I gulped and tried to focus—this is so not the moment to even think to fantasize about this superhero dude!
“It’s a bit still sore, the bullet went in deep, but it healed up by noon.” He explained and I hummed, for some reason finding it weird that Yunho seemed to be limping this morning, and that he disappeared around noon. Certainly, I was playing along to Mingi’s delusions and suspicions about Yunho at this point, and I don’t even spend that much time with Mingi. It’s ridiculous. How could Yunho be Spiderman? But then again…is it really that unbelievable? It could be anyone, for God’s sake, even me! Well, obviously not me, but you know what I mean!
“I’m glad that’s healed.” I muttered, getting to the other end of the gash finally, “Are you sure this one doesn’t need stitches, it looks to be deep, Mr. Spidey.”
Spiderman chuckled, and I felt his hand wrap around my wrist as I dabbed the gauze against the wound again. I froze, eyes widening a little at the familiarity of the touch. Yunho’s hands are always warm and quite big, his fingers long. I bit my bottom lip as I looked down at Spiderman’s hand, noticing the marks that looked like they were left by rings. Yunho would also have marks left by rings on his fingers on days he didn’t feel like wearing them. I gulped and then looked up; Spiderman’s freaky black masked eyes unblinking as he looked down at me.
“It won’t need stitches, Y/N.” He whispered, and a tingle ran down my spine, making me gulp down nothing in particular, having to clear my throat as I averted my eyes, gently pulling my hand back. Spiderman released his grip on me instantly and followed me with his eyes as I threw the bloody gauze back inside the medical kit until I’d throw it away. I then stood, rubbing my hands together as I didn’t know what to do next.
“I, uh—is that enough?” I asked, motioning towards the clean gash now, averting my eyes from his torso when they threatened to run all over it again.
“Yes, thank you.” Spiderman muttered, and I could hear the smile in his voice, “You’re an angel.”
Oh, fuck. My cheeks flushed instantly and I pulled my hair behind my ears as I cleared my throat again, looking past Spiderman, at my poster covered wall, “Right, yeah, uh—do you need anything else?”
“A little time to recover would be nice if I’m not bothering you too much.” Spiderman said, voice sounding hopeful.
“It’s fine, my mom won’t bother us as she thinks I’ve gone to bed.” I explained, placing my hands behind my back awkwardly, “Uhm, you said it takes two to three hours to heal, do you think this one will heal that fast if the wound made by the gun didn’t?”
Spiderman shrugged, and I watched as he finally took the white t-shirt I have given him in his hands, “It’ll certainly take longer than that, sometime around the early morning hours I should be fine.”
“Then stay.” I blurted out before I could actually think about what I was proposing. Spiderman froze for a second as he was about to wear the t-shirt, “I mean, you’re hurt and it’s dangerous outside, even Spiderman deserves to rest and be safe, no?”
He poked his masked head through the t-shirt, “Well, yes, but—”
“Then sleep here.” I motioned at the bed he was sitting on, “I will go to my mom and tell her I had a really bad nightmare, and that I wish to sleep next to her.”
“I don’t want to bother you, though.”
“Hey, Spidey, it’s totally cool.” I chuckled, showing him my thumbs up, “I’ll have so much fun retelling all this to Yunho, you know, my friend who’s obsessed with you. He’ll be dying that I got to patch you up and house you for a night.”
I giggled as I went to collect my phone from my desk, slipping it in my pocket. I should probably take some pyjamas with me and the medical kit as well. I walked to my closet as Spiderman watched me, and I opened the door to pick out my most favourite pyjamas to sleep in tonight. I closed the door and turned, smiling to myself…until I looked up. Until I found Spiderman gone and Yunho standing in his place. Red mask with the freaky black blinking eyes was clutched in his left hand, and his greyish-greenish-bluish hair was all messed up and dishevelled. My mouth dropped open as my pyjamas fell from my hands, and I found myself leaning back against my closet door.
“Yun—Yunho?!” I snapped; eyes wide open. This certainly must be a trick of the light or something, “There’s no fucking way you’re fucking Spiderman, Jeong Yunho!”
“But I actually am.” I watched Spiderman—no—Yunho scratch the back of his head awkwardly, averting his eyes, “This is not how I wanted to tell you.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I huffed, eyebrows furrowing as I pushed myself off the closet, “It was you all along?!”
“Yeah, there’s just one Spiderman—”
“Yunho!” I hissed and walked up to him hurriedly, eyebrows furrowing, “Are you crazy?! You could’ve been so much more badly hurt! And your—your leg, you got shot yesterday, oh my God, I’m not crazy! I—I kept noticing similarities between you and Spiderman—like the constant head scratching and like—your physiques were similar—and I saw you limping this morning! I can’t believe you’re actually him, what?! And you have everyone fooled too, like—do you know Mingi is suspicious of you? I thought I was crazy for thinking you are similar to Spiderman after hanging out with Mingi, but, oh, my god, if he finds out he’ll be so mad, Yunho! And—the childhood friend—it’s Hongjoong you were talking about, isn’t it?! Oh, my God, I also told you everything about the reason why I moved here, and meanwhile I’m glad I won’t have to tell you again, I felt shitty for dumping all that on Spiderman, and it turns out it’s you—”
My eyes widened as my words got muffled, stolen away, as Yunho’s extra warm lips were pressing against mine. I froze, my whole body locking up as he leaned down even more, slotting his lips perfectly against mine. Oh, my fucking God, Yunho is kissing me?! My ultimate crush is absolutely kissing me right now?! And he also happens to be Spiderman?! What in the—I closed my eyes and pushed up on my tip toes, circling my arms around Yunho’s neck as I pulled him down closer, still careful of his wounded chest. Yunho was eager as he gently, experimentally, pressed his lips firmer against mine, his hands settling on my hips as he pulled me a little bit closer. I allowed his lips to slip between mine, gently sucking on his upper lip as I felt Yunho’s left-hand slip to the middle of my back, embracing me as he flushed me against himself. The position was a little bit uncomfortable as I had to crane my neck up and back, trying to keep my balance on my tip toes too, but it was worth it as I felt Yunho’s embrace completely engulf me, pull me into himself, wrap me up in a warm and safe cocoon. I didn’t dare breathe as our lips found a gentle and soft rhythm, Yunho, always the careful sweetheart that he is, didn’t want to hurry the kiss as he gently sucked on my lower lip, making the breath hitch in the back of my throat. I was slowly getting lightheaded, but I didn’t want to pull back just yet. Yunho, however, did slightly pull back, only to press thousands of little kisses against my lips, making me giggle quietly as his lips pulled into the widest smile I have ever seen on him.
“You’re so beautiful and cute.” I found myself whispering against his lips, eyes fluttering open. Yunho’s neck and ears were red, and I finally didn’t have to control myself as I cupped his cheeks and gently squeezed them, making him chuckle adorably, “God, I could squish your cheeks all day long. You’re so adorable.”
“You’re stealing all my lines, angel.” Well, now it was my turn to blush like crazy as I released Yunho’s cheeks and pressed my face into his neck, chuckling, “For the record, before you accuse me of it, I’m not narcissistic.”
I giggled against the hot skin of his neck, and pressed a swift kiss against the flushed flesh, he smelled like honey, “It’s quite important to be your own biggest fan, Spiderman.”
“You’ll forever tease me about it, won’t you?” Yunho asked with a chuckle as he pressed a kiss against the top of my head.
“Definitely.” I pulled back to look up at him with a grin, “But I promise to keep your secret. I’m sure Hongjoong would be more pissed than you if I said anything to anyone.”
“Oh, he definitely would be.” Yunho chuckled, and brushed a strand of hair off my forehead.
“Mingi will be really mad too once he finds out, you know.” I said with a pout, “He’s already very suspicious.”
“I know, I have noticed.” Yunho sighed as my arms slipped from his shoulders to his middle, “I plan on telling him soon, but the timing needs to be perfect.”
“Like with me?” I teased as I wriggled my eyebrows at him, and he chuckled. He draped his arms around my shoulders, and leaned down again.
“Well, I quite like the outcome of it, so I can’t complain.”
“Huh, have you been waiting long to kiss me?” It was only meant to be teasing, but the way Yunho flushed again, I knew I was right. And it made me blush too as I shook my head at him, “Well, same here, if I’m being frank. I think I’ve had a crush on you since the first day we met…”
“Well,” Yunho took a deep breath and leaned so close his warm breath hit my lips, “I know I fell in love with you the very day you moved to the city, angel. I was passing through the neighbourhood as Spiderman and saw you bringing the boxes inside while you were belting out those high notes of the song you were listening to.”
“That’s so embarrassing!” I grimaced, shaking my head at Yunho.
“No, it’s actually really adorable. You can’t fathom how often you gave me cute aggression, but I had to hold myself back.” I looked down flustered, knowing the feeling way too well.
“Well, Spiderman, it’s a pleasure to officially meet you.” I winked as I looked in Yunho’s warm chocolate brown eyes, grinning from ear to ear.
“Y/N, would you like to be Spiderman and Yunho’s girlfriend?” I chuckled, pressing a quick kiss against Yunho’s lips.
“Don’t refer to yourself in third person, it’s cringey.” I whispered, feeling just a little bit shy as I bit my bottom lip, “But yes, I would really like to be Spiderman and Yunho’s girlfriend.”
“Great, because Spiderman and Yunho also really want to be your boyfriend.” Yunho whispered back, engulfing me in a bear hug, making me feel safe, like nobody else ever has.
Bro, I can’t believe I just bagged both Spiderman and my crush in one go.
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❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^
some recent photos of spiderman Yuyu hehet ^^
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Romcon Fluff | Ratio accidentally drinks your Love Serum ?!? | Tried to make this into a oneshot but I think it needs 2 more chapters, wdyt shall I continue?
Ruan Mei You accidentally made Veritas fell in love with you and he dislikes this festering feeling you have brought to him
support me on ko-fi ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
Ruan Mei is one of your closest friends, yet you rarely meet her since most of the time she’s off somewhere pursuing her lifelong pursuit of divinity, yet she never missed gifting you presents for your birthday.
You smile as you carefully untie the silk ribbon on your present, you can’t help but guess whatever is inside is a bottle of perfume because you could already inhale the sweet scent before even opening the intricate wooden box
Once you lift the lid it reveals a beautifully carved glass vial filled with a lavender-coloured liquid, you carefully examine the shimmering liquid in awe, it smells so sweet like a cherry blossom cake, you notice a light blue envelope inside the box
You carefully place the vial back to read open the envelope, there’s a beautifully written letter addressed to you, her sincerest friend
“Dearest friend of mine, Happy belated birthday. Now I have prepared this gift of mine long before your birthday but since I’m currently in the middle of nowhere I have deduced that It’ll reach your doorstep approximately 2 days late and for that, I apologise,” you smile as you read her letter, ah she’s still the same
Upon reading the 3-page long heartfelt letter Ruan Mei reveals that she has been making this rejuvenating serum for you since earlier this year, she said she used your DNA and modified it so for your birthday she gave you an enchantment serum of some sort
She said to pour it into a hot beverage and not too much since it’s a highly concentrated serum, so you decided to brew a cup of tea while you text her thank you. Okay so a little bit goes a long way, you slowly pour the serum into the tea when all of a sudden the bell into your apartment rings, it shakes you and accidentally makes you pour a lot more than you intended to
You quickly flip the vial and close its lid, you silently curse as you put the vial back and rush towards the door, you open the door with a pout on your face, now when you see the person behind it makes you more annoyed than before, Veritas Ratio in the flesh
“Why haven’t you been answering my texts and even my calls ?, your lack of response is going to cost us both substantial damage,” ah yes your assigned partner for the annual Intelligentsia Guild research showcase, where you and the narcissistic prick in front of you are assigned together by the committee
“Damage ?, I was just enjoying my birthday. Our research is not going to somehow dissipate into thin air if I enjoy some time for myself,” you groan, you want to slam your door into that handsome prick’s face, but you can’t because he’ll sue you
He scoffs while looking down on you, without any hesitation he slides into your apartment, at this point you want to just pounce over him, but thankfully you’re in a good mood because your tea is waiting for you-
That entitled motherfucker—
When you turn your body you see him blissfully sipping on your tea, like he’s entitled to it, “Hmm this tea is exquisite, the colour is stunning too where did you get this from ?” he asks as he swirls the cup, your cup
“Veritas Ratio that was my birthday present ?!!” you yell as you storm towards him, you try to pry his hands away from your tea but sadly he’s way taller than you, “Well then I need you to tell the person that gifted you this tea to tell me where they acquire such complex tea blend,”
You’re fuming, you swear that there’s smoke coming off your head like some sort of chimney, he notices this and weirdly he thinks you’re cute, he can’t believe that his heart just skipped a beat when you pout at him, what an unusual feeling
“Stop pouting, you’re making my heart palpitate faster than usual,” Veritas groans which surprised you, what the hell was he saying ?
“What the hell are you implying ?!” you scan his face, somehow this man who is well known to be rude and disrespectful is blushing profusely, what the hell happened here ?!
“You !, can you stop looking that beautiful basking underneath the sunlight it bothers me, I hate it,” he can’t believe he just said that out loud, what the hell is happening with him
“H-huh ?!?, what the fuck is wrong with you Veritas, I rather have you yell at me for fucking up some calculations than whatever this is,” you shriek feeling slightly disgusted and oddly flattered ?!?
“Well do you think I have the slightest idea what made my mind suddenly throw out my rationale out of the window and replace it with you instead ?!,” okay this is starting to freak you out because this feels too real, way too real is this a dream, please be a dream
You start to lightly slap your face to snap yourself out of this horrific nightmare, “This is no dream, I suggest you start to be responsible over this,” he leans forward and reaches out to your hand, he presses it towards his beating heart, he’s serious about how fast it was palpitating-
“W-what do you mean responsible ?!?, for what h-huh ?,” you try to pull your hand away but to no avail, it’s like he glued it down on his firm chest
“For these festering feelings that I don’t enjoy having nor experiencing, it must’ve been the tea I drank because before this I was quite normal when it comes to staring at that captivating face of yours. No, I mean that horrid face of yours that someone enchanted when illuminated by the sun,” Oh nous, it can’t be that tea can it ?
Oh !, Ruan Mei what the hell did you gift ?. Veritas could see your face reduce to a state of emotionless, “Don’t ignore me fool !,” he mutters as he now guides your hand to rest his head against your palm
“S-stop acting weird,” you stutter on your words, your confidence has been drained and now you’re left with red-tinted cheeks, how frustrating
“Can’t help it, I just want you to notice my presence,” he mumbles against your palm, slightly kissing it while talking, Oh my nous, Ruan Mei needs to fix whatever this is or at this rate, he can’t perform his task as your research partner
“Okay okay I need to somehow make an antidote for you,” you take a deep breath trying to think of something, but how can you when he’s there watching you with those puppy eyes
“Please do because, to be frank, I’m extremely uncomfortable with the way I just want to kiss that pink lips of—“ before he can continue you slap his mouth shut with your palm
“Shut up !!, don’t utter any more nonsense, just get out of here and don’t come back until I find a way to fix whatever this is,” you quickly push him towards the door, he’s adamant about staying by making things harder for you
“Can’t I just wait here and assist you? I might miss you if you kick me out, I mean no of course I wouldn’t miss your brilliant mind what am I saying of course I’ll miss you,” this man needs to be stopped, you can’t handle the contradictions that he’s spewing
“What do I need to do for you to get out !,” you huff as you wipe away your sweat, this man weighs like those sculptures he makes
“A kiss on the lips should suffice,” he smirks, why did he smirk?!?, never mind that you can’t deal with this nonsense anymore, you quickly drag him by the collar and press your lips together within a second you pull away from the kiss leaving him happily dumbfounded, you took this chance to hurriedly push him out the door and lock it
What the hell just happened ?!?
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Been meaning to complete theses for a while now but I only got one finished.
Uh, back when I made my Eclipse Birthday art many people liked my Servant Eclipse and God Eclipse, and wanted refs. But I had made them on the spot and didn’t really think about their designs, but I did promise I would. But I only have Servants done.
Here is the first concept for Servant
and here is the second concept and probably final design with an incoming story/oneshot that I’m writing (I haven’t written in so long.)
Close ups
#sun and moon show#sun and moon show au#the sun and moon show#tsams au#eclipse sams#tsams#sams eclipse#eclipse tsams#tsams eclipse#servant eclipse#lord lunar
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Backstage Encounter
Pairings: female reader x g!p yujin
Warnings: smut, yujin has a dick, cum in pussay (idk what you all call it over here), nsfw, minors dni please
a/n: was impatient and just wanted to release what i wrote but it’s all just for fun, my first time posting here since wattpad so might be bad as i haven’t written in awhile, please lmk how it is and hope you readers enjoy this oneshot!
Ever since you laid eyes on her, you knew you would be hooked. It was as if she had put a love spell on you, which if she did, you would most willingly accept.
“Everyone make some noise!” There she was, Ahn Yujin as she shouted into the microphone, the crowd around you went crazy as they shouted at the top of their lung, but there was you, just staring at the figure on stage as she started to dance to the part from one of their hit songs.
You were mesmerised to say the least, as she danced on the stage, she had a certain aura to her, one that would make other idols envy, and one that would make fans go wild for her.
Then, as if god had blessed you with immense luck, she was looking at you. It was not one that lasted less than a second, rather, it felt to went on forever as time stood still around you. You could feel your heart beating against your ear drum as she gave you a small smile, one that made your face feel hot to the touch, and you smiled back.
When it came to their last song, the group came down the stage as they walked past multiple fans. You were lucky this time, as you stood at the barricade, on the lookout for that one person that always catches your attention.
Soon enough, she came over to your end. This time, she had a goofy smile on her face as she waved to the crowd, and did some poses, everyone was screaming her name while there you were, all nervous.
Yujin looked through the crowd, her eyes scanning around for the signs of the girl she had seen earlier, one that stood out among the crowd. As soon as she locked eyes on yours, she knew she had to have you. She bit her lips, before telling the security something before she went back up the stage.
You were shocked to say the least. Not only did she locked eyes with you once, but twice? That must have been your last remaining luck as your heart continued to beat in your eardrums.
Soon, the concert ended, and everyone was making their way home. As you looked through your bag one last time just to make sure that you had not misplaced any of your belongings, someone came to tap on your shoulder.
You flinched a little, before looking up to see a security guard standing over the barricade. Your heart raced, not knowing what was going on as you thought if you had broken any rules for them to come up to you.
“Hi miss, Yujin would like to see you backstage if that is fine with you?” The guard said as instructed, his eyes looking over yours for approval and all you could do was blink, the words not processing in your mind as all you could think of was your favourite idol wanting to meet you face to face.
“Ma’am?” It must have been awhile you had stood there frozen like a statue as you blinked your eyes a few times.
“O-oh sorry, yes that would be fine by me too!” You had said a little too excitedly now, your voice an octave higher than normal. He then carried the barricade that was in front of you to the side and ushered you backstage.
With each step nearer to one of the rooms that Yujin might be in, it had you feeling even more nervous as you scanned your surroundings, biting your bottom lip nervously.
“Here we are, you can go in anytime.” He gave you a small smile, and you smiled back before he walked away, going back to his other duties.
With a racing heart, you knocked on the door, hearing her voice through the door as she asked whoever that was standing outside to come in.
Taking a deep breath, your hand that was on the doorknob twisted as you stepped in, closing the door behind you before turning to look at Yujin. Your mind was a mess right now and so was your heart, the sound ringing through your ears as you continue to stare at her.
“Hey, so i see you made it.” Yujin smiled, she came closer to you as all you could do was stand at the closed door, frozen like a statue as you tried to calm yourself down.
“H-hi, this just seems so surreal.” You had said, blinking your eyes a little more than usual as she stood in front of you now, playing with your fingers.
She looked at your hands, realising you were nervous as she held your hands in place, looking at you with a small smile. “It must be, you seem a little nervous now.” You could feel your breath caught in your throat as she took a step forward, and you took a step back, your back hitting against the door as you could only let out a whimper.
As soon as she heard the sound that escaped your lips, she knew she was right about you. “I knew it, you like this don’t you?” She came closer to your face, using her free hand to lift your chin, making you look up at her, her eyes searching yours for any signs of discomfort, but all she could see was the need in your eyes.
You did not know how this escalated, but what she was doing was making you so turned on. It was not the first time you had dreamed of such a scenario, but having it come true was something you never expected.
“P-please.” You stutter pathetically, she grinned a little, her hand that was around your hand snakes down your inner thigh as she searched your eyes for any signs of discomfort, which was met with hooded eyes.
Yujin then brushed her fingers over your clothed area, and your breath hitches in your throat again, a whimper escapes your lips once more.
Yujin leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. “Please what?” She whispered, making a shiver run down your spine.
“Please mommy, need more.” You whimper, moving your hips slightly so her fingers would rub over the area you yearned from her the most.
She sensed this, and placed the hand that was over your clothed area over your hips to stop your movements, her other hand going to lock the door behind of you.
A whine erupts from your throat as she stops your movements, her eyes dark as she stares into yours.
“You are going to be quiet, if not i will stop everything, understood?” You nod your head almost immediately, and she attached her lips against yours hungrily.
You moaned softly into the kiss, her hands going over the back of your dress as she unzips your blue dress. You let her, doing the same.
Once your clothes was off and all that remained was your bra and panties, she pulled you over the couch, asking you to lie down which you did and she was on you immediately.
Her fingers sliding behind your back to unclasp the bra as she grind her hips against yours, your breath hitching when you felt something hard hitting against your clothed pussy.
“M-mommy is th-hat?” You said breathlessly, feeling her humming against your skin as she licked a strip along your neck, her eyes hovers over yours with a sickening smirk.
“Yes it is baby, you like it don’t you?” She whispers against your lips, grinding against your clothed pussy as your panties were now drenched.
You let out a small moan, nodding your head, as you look at her with need.
“Words baby.” Her hand now over your neck as you gasp slightly, struggling to breathe. “Y-yes mommy.”
She hummed in response, giving you a small peck on your lips as she pull away. “On your knees now.” Immediately, you got on your knees, looking at her clothed area as she undo her zipper, pulling her pants down which unfortunately you did not have enough time to remove earlier.
You helped her, getting rid of her pants as you stared at her hard on, and you were sure you were drooling. She pushed her boxers down, as her girthy and hard cock sprung out, smacking against her pelvis.
“Mommy, can i? Please?” You looked up at her, with begging eyes as she smirked. As much as she wants to tease you, she was feeling the pain from how turned on she had been.
“Yes baby, show me what a slut you are for my dick.” Her voice was deep and raspy, making you even more turned on as your tongue darts out against her red and swollen tip experimentally, tasting her pre-cum over your tongue as you wrap your lips over her tip more boldly, your eyes staring at her blissed out expression.
You start to go more deeper, sucking when you pull slightly away at her tip and down again, creating a rhythm. The action causes her to groan, bitting her bottom lip instead as she grips on your head to stop you from moving, thrusting herself inside of your mouth.
Your hands grip against her thighs as you start to choke on her cock, her moves not letting up as she continue her rough movements, fucking your mouth like a toy. “You like that slut? Ever since i saw you earlier ahh— i knew you would love my cock around that pretty mouth of yours.”
You could only choke and whimper at her words, the aching feeling between your thighs only intensifying as you close your thighs together, trying to find some sort of friction as she continues to fuck your mouth.
With a final thrust of her hips, she shoots her load into your mouth, her hand firmly holding your head in place as she forced you to take every last drop from her cock.
Once she made sure you had swallowed her cum, she grip your hair, pulling your head back as she stared into your now teary eyes, which only made her hard again. Her eyes still hooded pulls you over the couch, straddling you.
Her fingers now played at the hem of your panties, staying there as she teases you even more. “M-mommy please, no more teasing.” You whimper, the feeling between your legs now sticky and drenched as she hooks her fingers at the edge of your panties, bringing it down slowly, looking at how wet you are for her.
The sight of you so drenched for her made her breath hitch a little, her dick throbbing painfully at the sight. “Fuck baby, you’re so wet for me.” Her tone comes out raspy, now taking your panties off as she takes a swipe of your wetness over her hand, making you whine out.
“Mommy no, that’s gross.” You cover your eyes, feeling your cheeks turn red as you look elsewhere, but felt a strong grip at your wrist as she pins your hands over your head.
You whimper out, and she forces you to look her way, her fingers coated with your wetness nears your lips as she instructs you to open your mouth for her. “Open your mouth baby.” She says, her tone making a shiver run down your spine as you part your lips, feeling her put the fingers coated with your arousal against your tongue as she starts to thrust her fingers in your mouth.
“Good girl, so good for mommy. You deserve a reward hm?” Her voice lower than usual as she remove her fingers from your lips, sliding them down across your stomach to your folds as she continues to tease you.
Your breath hitches, whimpering as you try to move your hips so that her fingers would touch where you wanted her most, but she pulled back instead, her grip on your wrists tightening.
“Tell me what you want baby.” She whispers against your ear instead, her teeth nipping against your earlobe as you whimper, still breathing heavily as your hips thrust upwards slightly over nothing.
“I want to feel you inside me please mommy? Want to be your cum dump.” You say desperately, wanting nothing more than for her to ruin you now.
At your words, she let out a growl, before plunging into your greedy hole without any warning, her hand over your mouth as you let out a muffled scream.
She starts to move at a merciless pace, her hand moving to grope at your tits instead as she kisses you deeply. You moan into the kiss, and she takes the opportunity to stick her tongue between your lips, exploring every inch of your mouth.
You start to moan even louder, her free hand wrapping over your neck as she strangles you a little, causing you to clench around her cock even more as she groan against your lips.
“Fucking slut, you loved that didn’t you? You like it when i fuck you rough?” She says through pants, her movements becoming more erratic as she nears her high, her hands over your thighs as she puts you in a mating press instead, thrusting her cock even harder and deeper as her tip hits your cervix each time she thrust in, making you cover your mouth as you moan even louder.
“Gonna breed this pretty pussy, you like that don’t you? Wanna be my cum dump?” She talks dirty to you, making you clench around her cock again as you feel yourself nearing the edge, begging her to let you cum.
“Cum for mommy slut.” She says breathlessly, her lips over yours to silence your moans as you come undone with her, her thrust slowing down as she paints your walls white, a whimper falling past your lips.
After a while, she pulled away from you, giving you a small kiss over your cheek. “Hi.” She mutters, looking at your fucked out face as she bites her bottom lip, plugging her cock out of your hole before she losses control of herself again.
“Hey.” You giggle slightly, looking at her as she dresses herself back into her outfit, before helping you look like how you were before all this had happened.
“I forgot to ask your name pretty.” She giggles softly, passing you her phone instead and you got the message, a smile plastered on your face as you put your name in, along with your number.
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Painkiller
Logan (James) Howlett and fem!agere!Reader
A/N: All of my oneshots will be/are written with a fem reader in mind because I write my works self indulgently, however, if it’s requested I have no qualms writing the reader GN
Unless I’m writing a romantic work, there is so age in mind for the reader, however, romantic works will be written with an over 18 reader in mind (╹◡╹)
It’s that sort of day when the deep seated pain of having a metal coated skeleton sinks in, the way it rubs uncomfortably, the itch of his claws, waiting to pop out through his knuckles.
He shifts back into his recliner, waiting for the warmth of the cabin to sink into his bones, he smiles when he sees you toddle down the stairs.
“Da!”
“Hey sweetheart”
You continue to make your way over to his armchair, a bit wobbly, usually used to being carried over
“Sorry, Daddy’s having a bad day, I’m hurtin’”
You nod, crawling gently in his lap, suckling on a pacifier he had painstakingly decorated for you, a stuffed badger sitting in your lap
“S’ okay Da.”
You smile up at him, nudging the front of your pacifier into his bearded cheek to replace a kiss, he smiles back, pressing his own kiss to your forehead, cradling you into his chest, his muscles loosening at the warmth of you, he lets it seep into his bones, relishing in the feeling.
You shift slightly, turning to press your head into his neck, your arms wrapped around his shoulders
“Is it because of what the bad people did?”
He shuts his eyes, sighing deeply, he rubs a hand up your back, humming a low ‘yes’
“It’s okay to hurt Da.”
His breath hitches, he can feel tears prick at his eyelids
“I know, you’re too good for me honeybee.”
You squirm, winding your way out of his arms, there’s a furrow to your eyebrows, your head is cocked as you suckle angrily on your pacifier, you shake your head
“No”
You lisp, objecting his statement with a garbled ‘you deserve love, Da’
He squeezes your hand, turning you on his lap
“Why don’t you go get your toys? Play some while Da gets some shuteye, I’ll put cartoons on for you.”
You nod, stumbling off of the recliner, he jumps forward, steadying you
“Careful”
You nod, wobbly shuffling over to the set of rickety draws near his staircase, kneeling to shuffle through it. Logan thought it better to have most of your more played with toys and colouring books downstairs considering how much more time you spend on the lower level of the Cabin with him.
You can hear him shifting back into his seat, grunting as his spine cracks.
You shuffle through the colouring books and dolls, settling on a big box of duplo Logan managed to get for you, using Charles’ credit card as petty revenge for an argument he got into with the man.
You drag it over to the recliner, plopping down in the softly carpeted floor, quietly opening the tub of Lego in favour of not waking Logan up, relaxing at the sound of his snoring, losing yourself in the vibrant colours on the tv and the click clack of plastic.
☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆
It’s clear that it’s been a fair few hours since Logan fell asleep, the sky has grown purple and you’ve grown restless and hungry. You wobble over to Logan’s recliner, settling in his lap, cautious of startling the man, you gently wake him, carefully shaking his shoulder, calling his name until he stirs, grumbling sleepily.
He blinks at you tiredly, waking himself up, he cradles your head with his worn hand
“Mornin’ Bee”
You smile
“S afternoon Pa!”
He peers out the window, eyebrows raising
“Sure is, I haven’t slept that well in many years, thank you honeybee, my little painkiller”
You giggle, preening at his cooed praise, startling when your stomach rumbles angrily, He smiles, patting your belly
“Let’s go get some food in my baby, hmm? Sound good?”
You nod, letting him up off the recliner to shake off his stiff limbs, before he picks you up, painlessly.
☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆
Thank you so much for reading, another self indulgent Logan work that has been in the making for way too long, I promise, all my drafts/requests will be uploaded soon! I hope this will suffice for now my loves! (^ν^)
#Spotify#agere fic#safe agere#wolverine x reader#logan howlett#marvel agere#x men agere#agere blog#wolverine#age regression#cg!logan☆彡#cg!logan
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soft spot — python333
— — — —
synopsis you've been having a bad day, and ghost feels like being extra nice to you. plot twist you're an age regressor and him being so nice is NOT helping.
relationships platonic agere cg!ghost & gn little!reader.
characters ghost.
word count 6.7k.
warnings a victorious reference, age regressor reader, usage of c/n [call sign/code name], 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself]
note please feel free to attack me as much as you want if this is inaccurate. i don't even care if it's not constructive criticism. i am begging for everyone's thoughts and opinions on this!! this is also the longest oneshot i think i've ever written!
“Having fun there?”
You turn in your seat and find Ghost leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and one eye slightly wider than the other—an indication that his eyebrow is raised.
“Not really,” You answer, setting down your gun. You’d been disassembling it, trying to take your mind off of the slowly growing headache that’s been building up for the past few hours. You don’t think it’s a migraine or anything, but it still bothers you greatly.
“Yeah, no, I can tell,” Ghost chuckles, pushing himself off of the door frame and walking over to you. He eyes your gun for a moment, the magazine already removed as well as any live rounds left in the rifle ejected, and the bolt locked to the rear. You were only maybe a quarter of the way through your disassembly, even though you started around thirty minutes ago.
For some reason, you woke up upset today. You were too tired, you felt awfully sluggish, and there was a throbbing pain clustered in the back of your eyebrows. So, in short—you were reasonably very upset. It showed visibly in the way your eyes twitched every so often, and in the way you felt the need to pinch the bridge of your nose to distract you from the pain that was still building up behind your brows.
“What’s going on?” He asks, leaning on the table.
“I have this headache that won’t go away,” You respond, sighing as you move your gaze from your gun to Ghost. You can barely see it, but from his eyes you can tell that his face scrunches up beneath his mask. He knows a thing or two about bad headaches, being someone who frequently gets migraines himself.
“Have you taken any meds for it?” You shake your head ‘no’. Ghost holds up a single finger in a ‘one moment’ motion and rummages through the pockets on his tactical vest for a moment, before he pulls out a small bottle of ibuprofen no bigger than his palm. He hands it to you.
“Here.” You blink at it for a moment.
“Thanks,” You take the bottle gingerly and Ghost nods, watching you as you struggle with the child-proof lid for a second before getting it open. You shake out a small tablet, one the size of a low-dosage aspirin, and pop it into your mouth. You don’t have much of an issue dry-swallowing it, and it only takes one attempt before you successfully swallow the tablet.
“You’ve been feeling pretty bad this whole week, haven’t you?” Ghost frowns underneath his mask.
You think for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, I guess. I think it’s mostly just stress.”
You know it’s not just stress.
For a while now, you’ve used something called ‘age regression’ as a form of stress relief. You don’t know exactly when it started, but you do know that it was before you were recruited for the 141. And originally, you made a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t regress while on base, and you kept that promise for maybe a month before you broke it.
You think it was Ghost that was the trigger, actually. You can vividly remember the first time you regressed while on base; you had just finished talking to Ghost, and he called you something—you think he called you something similar to ‘kid’—that made a flip in your mind switch immediately. You can remember excusing yourself from the conversation quickly, leaving your lieutenant slightly confused but otherwise unbothered by the strange action.
And, worst of all, you can remember being in your quarters and practically burrowing under your blankets. You were curled up into a fetal position, trying to fight the urge to suck on your thumb or at least chew on something, but ultimately lost the fight and succumbed to your urges. You spent maybe a few hours like that, wide awake when you just wanted to try and sleep it away, thinking about that interaction you had with Ghost over and over again.
You’re not stupid. You know that Ghost has some sort of soft spot for you—albeit, you don’t know exactly how soft that soft spot is, but it’s definitely soft. Soft enough that he goes the tiniest bit easier on you compared to other recruits, soft enough that he spares you more time than he does for others, and the most obvious of all—he initiates most of your conversations.
Contrary to popular belief, he’s not the scary super-soldier most people think of him as. Sure, maybe he is kind of scary, and maybe his mask does jumpscare you when you’re doing missions in particularly dark spaces sometimes, but other than that he’s not scary in the slightest. If anything, he’s awkward. Awkward enough that he’s almost never the first person to talk to someone—except for you, of course. You don’t know why he acts so differently around you, but you don’t complain about it.
“That’s rough,” Ghost looks down at you with concerned, empathetic eyes, “Sorry you’re so stressed. Mind me askin’ why?”
“I don’t, but I also don’t know why I’m so stressed,” You huff out, even though you know the answer completely. You stand up, “I think it’s just me being sleep deprived. I’ve been having the tiniest bit of trouble falling asleep lately.”
“You should’ve told me earlier,” Ghost tuts, “I have melatonin.”
You give him a confused look. “You do?”
“‘Course I do.”
You blink at him for a moment before sighing, “Could I have some then?”
“What’s the magic word?” You give him an unimpressed look, ignoring the way the words make your stomach twist, and his eyes crinkle in a way that lets you know that he’s grinning under his mask.
“Could I please have some melatonin?”
“The magic word was lotion, but I’ll let it slide,” Ghost hums, “There’s some in my office. I’ll grab it for you later.”
“M’kay,” You look over at the door, unintentionally zoning out as you do. Your vision goes unfocused as the throbbing pain behind your eyebrows grows and something else grows inside of you.
Jesus. Why can’t you choose any other time to get the urge to slip into a younger mentality? Why does your headache have to make everything worse for you? Why does Ghost have to be so nice and helpful?
“Hey,” Ghost frowns, tapping a finger on your shoulder to snap you out of whatever trance you’re in, “[c/n]?”
Oh God.
Your eyes—that you try desperately to keep neutral—meet Ghost’s, his eyes soft and his eyebrows dipped downwards in a confused manner. His eyes are searching, flitting over you, trying to find something. The way he looks at you makes you want to squirm, and you can’t help but just slightly shuffle in place.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks, voice as concerned as his look. That should be the breaking point for you, but you remain as big as you can be, and nod affirmatively.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” You try to assure him, hoping you don’t sound as nervous as you feel, “I think I’m just a little tired.”
Ghost doesn’t look convinced.
He puts a hand on your shoulder, the act like a hammer putting another dent in the wall you had put up. The leather of his glove is warm even through the thick material of your shirt, and it feels like hot metal against your cold skin, the clothing covering your shoulder be damned.
“You can tell me if you’re not okay,” He tells you—what is he doing? Does he know something I don’t?—while his thumb starts rubbing circles into your shoulder, “I feel like you’re more than a little tired.”
You stay silent for a little bit. You don’t know how to explain yourself, the words seeming to liquify and leak right out of you, making you speechless. He seems to notice this, sighing and letting his hand slip down to your hand, holding it and giving it a quick squeeze.
“I think,” He looks around for a moment before turning back to you, “that we should head to my office so that nobody can bother us, and then you can tell me all about how you’re feeling right now. Does that sound okay?”
You nod wordlessly, not trusting yourself to talk with how heavy your tongue feels, and you let Ghost lead you back to his office. It’s only a hallway away, but that’s still enough time to overthink everything that could possibly happen. How does he know something’s wrong? What gave it away? Did I do something bad? What did I do? Wh—
The creak of his office door opening snaps you out of your thoughts, and Ghost steps aside to let you enter his office first. Hesitantly, you take a few steps inside, and you hear the door click shut behind you as Ghost walks in. He takes your hand again, making you look at him as he guides you to a chair.
You sit in the chair that’s in front of his desk, and he quickly drags out the chair that’s behind it so that it’s right next to yours. He sits down.
He’s looking at you expectantly.
“Uh.” You’re not sure what to say. He’s looking at you so reassuringly, it’s hard to keep yourself sitting upright.
“I know something’s wrong,” Ghost says, leaning forward the tiniest bit, “I need you to tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.”
He’s got to have at least some idea of what you’re experiencing, You think, trying to form some sort of explanation, He’s being so… weird?
You swear there’s some other word you could use, but your vocabulary feels so limited, and you would mentally curse if you could because you know that now your explanation is gonna sound weird. You can’t use the words you want, you’re gonna be forced to use simple words, ones that can’t convey exactly how you feel. Words that—and it physically pained you to admit this—were childish.
You can explain your situation. Just, now it would be more… blunt. And short. And also you’d feel like killing yourself afterwards. You won’t, obviously, but you can predict that you’ll come very close to doing so.
Okay, I have to say something because Ghost is looking more and more worried the longer I stay silent.
“I feel…” You trail off for a moment, trying to get your thoughts in order for the next two seconds to actually say something that makes sense, before continuing in a far less confident tone, “… small.”
The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret it. Ew. Ew. Ew. What. Why? Why that word? It leaves a sour taste on your tongue and yet you can’t think of any other word that would better suit how you feel. Still. Ew.
Your thoughts are a jumbled mess ranging from fleeting thoughts of disgust to thoughts lodged in the back of your mind begging you to go anywhere else just so that you can stop having to have this conversation. This conversation requires words bigger than you have access to, and a sort of control over yourself that you can’t grasp. You can feel your hands twitching, wanting something to hold onto, anything to keep you distracted from the overwhelming urge to just regress.
Ghost blinks. He didn’t expect that answer.
“Small?” He repeats in a questioning tone, eyebrows furrowed, “I mean, compared to me, I guess you’re kind of short—”
“No, no, not like short small,” You try to clarify, feeling just slightly discouraged by Ghost’s confused words, “Like…”
You struggle to find the words that properly describe how you feel, only finding words like small and little in your current vocabulary. Your findings are making you increasingly upset, and you can feel your face start to grow hot with frustration and embarrassment.
Oh my God.
“Like…?” Ghost nudges your knee with his, trying to encourage you to talk, “I’m not leaving until you tell me.”
There’s still a level of care in his words, no matter how confused he seems, and that adds all the more struggle to your predicament. Not only do you not want to tell him, but you can’t describe how you feel in a way that’s acceptable for someone your age to describe anything. At least, not in a way that you deem acceptable for yourself to describe anything.
You’re far too old to be describing yourself as small.
“[c/n]?” Ghost nudges you again, and you blink at him. Your eyes are flickering all over his mask, going anywhere but his eyes, since eye contact with anyone would make everything significantly worse for you right now.
“It’s just—” You try to take a deep breath but your breath hitches. Everything is starting to make you feel so frustrated, and you’re starting to think that you might just throw a tantrum if you can’t do at least one thing right. You try to find the words you want to use but your throat is disobediently closing on you. Your mind feels like straight mush, and the quickly softening look that Ghost is giving you isn’t helping you at all.
To your horror, in your inexplicable inability to talk in the way you normally do, you let out a small whine. It sounds obnoxious to your ears, and worst of all, sounds like something a little kid would do.
You put your head in your hands, the quickly reddening skin of your cheeks getting cooled by the cold of your palms as you try and hide your face from Ghost. You can picture how he looks right now—somehow more confused than earlier, possibly annoyed, weirded out—and all those mental images make you bite your tongue to prevent another noise.
“What was that?” You don’t answer him.
To your non-answer, Ghost sighs, and you think, This is it, this is where he kicks me out of his office, oh my God I’m gonna get dishonorably discharged and he’s gonna give me a really mean look on my way out—
“Look at me.” You shake your head negatively.
“Why not?” He sounds so confused, it makes you want to cry. There’s still a level of worry in his voice, and it adds to the fog that builds up in your brain.
You move your face just slightly up so that your eyes peek out from above your fingertips, your hands covering the rest of your face. Ghost reaches out both of his hands, and ever so gently removes your hands from your face, uncovering your red cheeks and your lips—the lower of which quivers, like you’re about to cry. He notices this quickly, and you can practically feel the level of his worry shoot up.
He doesn’t say anything, instead just holding your hands in his for a moment, before he sets them down into your lap. He looks at you, concerned, and asks, “Is it hard to talk right now?”
You nod. His gaze shifts to his computer, and then back to you.
“I’m gonna go look a few things up really quick, okay? I’ll just be right over there,” He nods over to the space behind his computer, “and I’ll be right back here in a few seconds.”
You reluctantly nod again, and Ghost gets up from his seat. He grabs the back of the chair and drags it back around behind his desk, sitting down in it and powering on his monitor. It turns on almost immediately, much to his relief, and he goes to his browser and searches up a few things. You can’t tell what he’s searching up, only hearing the clacking of keys and the occasional final click that indicates that he’s hit the enter button.
He stays there for maybe a minute or two. It’s a long few minutes, and you can feel yourself slipping more and more the longer he stays at his computer. And the more you feel yourself slipping into that younger mindset, the more you start to crave Ghost’s attention.
The way his eyes are glued to his computer starts to irritate you. You’re aware that he’s doing something important, he must be, because why would he be so intent on looking something up otherwise, but still—you manage to feel the tiniest bit jealous of the computer. You know you’re too far gone when you can’t find it within yourself to realize that you’re jealous of a computer.
Your eyes linger on him and he must notice this because he looks up from the screen of his monitor and looks over at you. As if he can read your mind, he reassures you, “Just a few more seconds.”
But you said you were gonna be back in a few seconds a few minutes ago.
You don’t voice your thoughts. Instead, you nod, because God forbid you annoy Ghost with your need for attention now when he’s being so patient with you. He looks at you for another moment before going back to his computer and looking something else up, this time with a little more fervor.
Another few seconds pass and, true to his word this time, Ghost stops and gets up from his chair. He walks over to you, and your eyes follow him intently. He kneels down in front of you.
He looks hesitant to say something to you. That’s a first. That adds to the exponentially growing blob of fear that lives inside your mind, one of the only things that’s still prominent in the fog that conquers your brain.
“Are you…” You feel like you know what he’s gonna ask you. You’re bracing yourself for the question, and he looks like he’s bracing himself just to ask it.
“How, uh,” He’s trying to find the right wording, and you’ve never been able to relate to him harder than you do in this moment, “How… do you feel right now? How old?”
How old? You don’t really like that question. As much as you like that you’re now getting attention, you’re starting to remember how little you actually enjoy this type of attention. The question is pretty vague, but at the same time so specific, and you’re almost ashamed to know exactly what the answer is. Or, at least, you would feel ashamed if there was room in your mind to feel so.
“You said you feel small, right? Not like short small, just small?” He sounds more unsure of himself now, and you don’t think you like seeing him so reluctant to say something, “I looked up what it means to feel like that. Took some time, but I got to some person’s… website, and the person who wrote it was talkin’ about feeling like that. Something about regression, feeling a little bit younger than usual?”
He’s being so awkward about it, and while you typically find his awkwardness funny, now it’s anything but that.
“Uhm,” Your voice comes out as a mumble and you see Ghost perk up at it. You don’t know what to say. For a moment, you’re silent again, before you get over your embarrassment for a quick two seconds and force yourself to say, “Four.”
“Four?” Ghost asks, before quickly realizing, “Right. Four. You feel four?”
You nod, and your hands instinctively start moving back up to cover your face. Ghost swiftly grabs them, keeping his grip gentle as he keeps them from reaching your face.
“Hey, don’t try to hide again,” He says, tone softening as he holds your hands, “everything’s fine, okay? Do you— what, uh— do you need me to do anything? Do you want me to leave you alo—”
“No!” You quickly answer, a little surprised by your own volume, before you clear your throat and answer in a much more quiet voice, “Don’t leave me alone.”
“Okay, okay,” Ghost’s thumbs rub across the back of your hands, a soothing gesture that makes you the tiniest bit more relaxed, “what do you need?”
You sniffle, and you can see an immediate look of panic cross Ghost’s eyes. You don’t know how well he is with crying children, and don’t want to impose such a situation on him, but you also can’t stop the tears that begin to well up in the corners of your eyes.
“Hey, don’t cry,” He borderline begs, “everything’s gonna be okay, okay? Please do not cry. Take a deep breath.”
You try to take a deep breath, you really do, but your breath just hitches and gets caught in your throat. It only makes you more distressed, adding to the urge you have to just disappear. Ghost notices your failed deep breathing and lets go of one of your hands, before taking the other and holding it to his chest.
You can just barely feel his heartbeat, his thick tactical vest and gear in the way of it, but you can still feel it. Ghost takes a deep breath, holding it for a second or two before slowly exhaling.
“You copy me, okay?” He tells you, his words an order but his tone suggesting otherwise. He takes another deep breath, this time hoping you’ll follow his lead, and you do.
You try to breathe with him, your hand on his chest helping, but your breath keeps getting caught in your throat. Ghost notices this, but continues his breathing anyway, hoping you’ll catch on soon. You do, thankfully—after a few more attempted breaths, you finally manage one almost identical to Ghost’s. The next few after that go similarly, and that’s when Ghost decides you’re alright to take your hand off of his chest.
“I need you to tell me what to do,” He says, keeping your hand in his hold, “or at least tell me how all of this works. I want to help you.”
You really don’t want to tell him what you need right now, but you also don’t think you have a choice.
Wordlessly, you stand up from your seat, balance just slightly off-center before you quickly get your footing right. Ghost watches you, not moving, before you tug on his hand to try and urge him to get up as well. He obliges, getting up.
“What—” You interrupt him by taking another step forward and letting your head thump right into his chest, ignoring the itchy uncomfortable feeling of his vest against your face. You don’t bother to wrap your arms around him to at least try and form some sort of hug, preferring to just smush yourself into him and hope for the best.
After a moment of stunned silence, he wraps his arms around you.
“You mind if we move behind my desk so I can look up some more stuff on all of this?” He asks, voice quiet, “Unless you want to just tell me?”
“Desk,” You simply mumble into his vest, making him nod.
“Alright, but you’re gonna have to stop hugging me for a second,” Ghost warns you. You reluctantly step away, and Ghost smiles softly down at you, bringing his hands away from your back and instead holding one of yours.
He leads you behind his desk, and lets go of your hand before sitting down in his chair. Pausing, he quickly realizes you have nowhere to sit, and thinks for a moment before getting back up. He drags his chair just slightly to the side and looks back at you.
“Sit down,” He nods to the chair, “It’s only gonna be a minute or two, alright?”
You nod, hesitantly moving to sit in the chair, not really liking how far away from Ghost it is. It's not that far, You try to rationalize, I’m gonna be fine.
Ghost can see your hesitation and tries to work as quickly as he can, grateful that he didn’t turn his computer off earlier, typing away on his keyboard. You don’t care to see what he’s looking up, more focused on looking at the time on his monitor. 21:44. 21:45. The time ticks by and even though it’s only been a few seconds you already want Ghost’s attention again. His attention has actually turned into good attention, and that’s the type of attention you’ve been craving for the past week.
The clock reads 21:47 once Ghost is done, and he powers his monitor off this time, the small whirring the device makes dying down to a low hum before going completely silent. He turns to you, and somehow can sense that you need more attention.
“Am I not paying enough attention to you?” He teases you, making you conflicted on whether you should be annoyed by the teasing or happy you’re finally getting attention. As if he can read your mind, he chuckles, and kneels down to your level.
“I’m gonna give you as much attention as you need, alright?” He promises, “I just need you to stay in this room.”
—
Ghost watches you nod non-verbally, and it only adds to his softening expression.
He’s always had a soft spot for kids. He knows that you aren’t technically a kid, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still see you as one. You’re young for someone in the military, much less someone in this 141, and now that he’s found out that you’re an age regressor, that you’re a little—well, that doesn’t help how he sees you at all.
He thinks that maybe the reason he has such a soft spot for kids is a few encounters he’s had with them in the past. He’s seen far too many in compromising positions while on missions; positions like being held hostage, being held as prisoner, or just generally being mistreated or even just living in bad conditions.
He looks at you, and he just sees another one of those kids.
He sees how you act around him. He’s not stupid. When he talks to you, you’re actually engaged in the conversation, compared to when anyone else tries to talk to you—maybe excluding Price, or Soap, or Gaz, heavy on that maybe—you’re more likely than not brushing them off every chance you get. You’re standoffish with everyone else, but with him, you’ll always accept any conversation he initiates.
He can also see the way you look at him. It’s like you’re looking at your idol, or your savior, the way you look up at him. He can see that curious glint in your eyes when he tells you about a recent mission, or when he tells you anything, really. He can see when you try to mimic how he holds his weapons, and when you try to copy his techniques.
He remembers catching you one day in the shooting range trying to mimic how he aims at the targets—looking through your scope with one eye closed, the other focused only on the dot centered on the scope, taking a deep breath in and out before shooting, and keeping the gun exactly like that even seconds after the shot’s been fired.
In fact, the copying has gone from guns to melee weapons recently. Ghost swings only his forearm when he uses a knife, thumb resting on the very end of the knife’s handle, and entire arm stiff as he does. He does a slow windup when behind someone, a fast one on the off-chance that he’s in front, and buries the weapon to the hilt in whoever’s flesh he’s penetrated. He’s already seen you do the same on a recent mission. Not only that, but he caught you using a knife almost identical to his.
And now, you’re still looking at him like that—except, different. Sort of like how a kid might look up to their parents.
“What do you feel like doing, kiddo?” He asks, hoping the pet name isn’t too much.
From the way your eyes light up, he suspects it isn't.
“Mmm…” You hum, thinking for a moment, before requesting, “Coloring?”
“Coloring, huh?” Ghost looks around for some blank paper and some sort of marker or pen thick enough to act as one, but can only find some highlighters. He turns to you, frowning, “Sorry, but I don’t think I have any paper, kid. Anything else you wanna do?”
You shake your head, and Ghost is just about ready to jump off of a bridge before you point to his arm and repeat, “Coloring.”
He looks at his arm for a second, confused, before he remembers a conversation the two of you had a month or so ago.
“If you ever wanna get tattoos, I know a guy in Brighton,” Ghost said, reclining his chair back so that he can lay down in it. You were sitting across from him in front of his desk, fiddling with one of his pens.
“Good to know,” You hummed, “You have any tattoos?”
“Yeah,” You perked up at his admission, and he sat up for a second to roll up the sleeve of his shirt. He wasn’t wearing his usual gear, only one of those standard issue army-green shirts.
“Here,” He pointed to a large tattoo covering his whole arm like a sleeve, a few designs you could point out to yourself being a skull, a few Roman numerals, and some kind of scythe.
“Very emo,” You commented, making Ghost snort, “I like it.”
“I’m glad,” He rolled his sleeve back down.
There’s a lot of blank space in the tattoo, despite it being a sleeve, and he can already tell that you mean you want to color in that space. He thinks about it for a moment, a fleeting thought of is that even safe? crossing his mind before he ultimately decides that he doesn’t care and would rather kill himself than see you disappointed because he denied your request, his own health be damned.
“Alright,” He hums, grabbing a few highlighters from a mesh cup on his desk in the colors pink, yellow, and blue, “Go for it.”
You give him a small smile and if he cared about if he’d get ink poisoning two seconds ago, he sure as hell doesn’t care now. You gingerly grab the highlighters from his hand, your grabbing not too secure and sort of clumsy but secure enough that the markers stay in your hand.
You hold them with both hands, and it makes Ghost realize how small your hands are—sure, you could hold the highlighters with one hand, but he’s glad you aren’t because now he can admire just how small you are as a whole.
You set the yellow and blue down on his desk, making sure they don’t roll off for a moment before uncapping the pink and hesitantly holding out a hand for Ghost’s arm. He rolls up his sleeve and obediently holds out his arm for you, watching curiously as you press the cold tip of the highlighter to his skin. You’re starting by coloring in the skull a neon pink, much to his amusement, and you’re starting in the dead center of its forehead.
You’re so much more quiet than you usually are when you’re little, and you’re so much more hesitant, it makes Ghost want to just wrap you in a blanket and keep you safe and in his sight forever.
Your tongue slightly pokes out from between your lips as you concentrate on coloring in Ghost’s tattoo, making him grin beneath his mask. The ink of the highlighter doesn’t stay within the black bounds of his tattoos at all, but he doesn’t care one bit, and he doesn’t think you care either. You finish up the skull quickly, and move onto the scythe that’s right next to it, this time capping the pink highlighter and grabbing the yellow.
Ghost is pretty sure this is gonna stain his skin for a day or two, but he couldn’t care less.
He can’t help but notice how much more relaxed you look in your regressed state. More at peace, he should say. There’s no longer a hunch in your shoulders, your eyes aren’t twitching from your headache, and you’re not bouncing your leg like you usually do when you’re sitting down somewhere. It’s like any anxieties you had pre-regression had evaporated, like slipping into a younger mentality had taken away most of your worries, if not all of them.
He also can’t help but wish he could see you like this more often. Not necessarily the regressed part, but the relaxed part. Well, maybe the regressed part too. You’re being such a sweetheart right now, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to live through this experience.
“You having fun there, darling?” Ghost asks, his grin evident in his voice. The corners of your lips quirk up at the pet name and you nod silently, and now Ghost is starting to think you’re actually trying to kill him. You’re being so uncharacteristically shy, and you’re being so quiet, and you’re just being so sweet.
It seems you’ve moved onto the blue highlighter now, coloring in the last bit of his tattoo. He doesn’t think he’ll ever wash it off—or, at least, he wouldn’t if he had a choice. He knows that he has to shower sometime soon, but surely he can put that off for a bit, right?
Once you’re finished with your coloring, you cap the highlighter, and set it down next to the others you’ve discarded. You turn Ghost’s arm the tiniest bit towards him so that he can see your work better.
“‘s it good?” You ask quietly, watching intently for Ghost’s reaction. He looks over your coloring job and hums approvingly.
“It’s amazing, I love it,” He assures you, smiling down softly at you, “You did great.”
You seem to preen at the praise, and you take your hand off of Ghost’s arm, moving to put in your lap. You’re keeping yourself very contained, Ghost notices, Why?
He’s snapped out of his thoughts when he hears you yawn, and you quickly move to cover your mouth as you do. He’s reminded that it’s almost twenty-two hundred, and while that usually wouldn’t be an issue for him, it’s an issue for you. You originally came to the 141 as someone who had a sleep schedule almost as fucked up at Ghost’s, but soon developed a habit of going to sleep somewhat early considering the training you had in the morning. So, now you get tired anywhere from eighteen-hundred to twenty-one hundred. After that, your only goal is to find somewhere to sleep.
“Sleepy?” You nod tiredly, making Ghost coo, Ghost, the man who quite literally haunts some people’s nightmares, coos at you, “Aw, of course you are, sweetheart. Pretty sure it’s way past your bedtime by now.”
“Nuh uh,” You deny, making Ghost chuckle.
“‘Nuh uh’?” He asks, amused, “What d’you mean ‘nuh uh’?”
“No b’dtime,” You shortly elaborate.
“Ohhh, okay,” Ghost feigns realization, “You think you’re too big for a bedtime, huh?”
“Mhm. Way too big.”
“I dunno about ‘way’ too big,” Ghost hums, checking to see if the highlighter on his arm has dried before he pulls his sleeve back down. “You seem pretty little to me.”
“No,” You whine, dragging out the ‘o’, “Not lil’.”
“Hmm… you sure, kiddo?” Ghost asks, “So if I ask you if you need to go to bed, you’re gonna say ‘no’?”
That makes you hesitate, and Ghost almost thinks he’s won, before your own pettiness wins and you nod affirmatively. He raises an eyebrow at you.
“Alright, well, you’ve gotta sleep at some point,” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair.
You think this over for a second, and he watches as you look over him for a moment before looking down at his lap, then looking back up at him. He can already tell there’s some sort of plan forming in your mind. Wordlessly, you get up, and Ghost does nothing to stop you as you decide to just plop yourself down into his lap. You straddle his thighs, moving until you’re sitting comfortably on him, and then let yourself slump forward so that your face is resting in the crook of his neck. It takes him a moment to process what just happened, before he laughs lightly and wraps both of his arms around you to keep you in place.
“Oh, okay,” He grins, resting his chin on your shoulder, “you just wanna cuddle with me until you fall asleep? Is that what this is?”
He feels you nod against his neck, and his grin grows as he rubs one hand against your back, trying to soothe you to sleep. He doesn’t say anything else, not wanting to distract you from your attempts to sleep anymore, simply letting you stay slumped against him. Your breathing wasn’t too fast-paced to begin with, but as you relax even more in his arms, he can feel your breathing even out.
You’re falling asleep fairly quickly, and the only complaint he has is that he didn’t get to spend nearly as much time as he wanted to with you while you were awake and regressed.
Once he’s sure you’re barely awake, he murmurs, “You’re such a sweetheart, you know that?”
—
You don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep, but you’re woken up by the slight rustling of clothes, and then you feel yourself moving up.
Your mind still feels foggy and you can tell you’re still somewhat in that younger mindset of yours, but now you’re significantly less bothered by it than you were before. You’re awake enough to be aware of what’s happening, always having been a light-sleeper, but not awake enough to know exactly what’s happening. You don’t dare open your eyes, and try to keep your breathing even—though that isn’t much of a challenge.
That headache that had been building up earlier has fully disappeared, thank God, and you no longer feel the tension in your shoulder that you’d been unconsciously carrying.
You can sort of feel someone’s arms snaked under your back, and you know that you’re being moved somewhere. Quickly, you remember that it’s Ghost carrying you, and that you had fallen asleep on him, much to your embarrassment. Or, at least, it would be much to your embarrassment if you had the mental capacity to feel embarrassed about that right now. But you feel so comfy and so safe that it really doesn’t matter to you right now.
You can hear the clicking of Ghost’s boots against the concrete floors of the hallway, and he’s carrying you off somewhere; you imagine that somewhere to be your sleeping quarters. He’s walking pretty fast, not hurriedly but still at a somewhat fast pace.
Soon, he reaches a stopping point where he has to awkwardly put one leg up to support your back on his thigh as he quickly reaches one arm out to turn the knob of the door to your sleeping quarters and pulls that arm right back to support your back again. He sighs as he puts his foot back down, kicking open the door and walking in.
He’s quick to reach your bed, and he pauses as he considers what to do. You can practically hear him thinking, wondering how he’s gonna get you under the covers while he’s still carrying you, and for a second you think about showing him you’re awake so that things are easier for him before he sets you down on the bed.
He pulls the covers up and stops when he reaches the part your body covers, and picks you back up, before dropping you right back off where the blankets have been pulled away. He pulls the covers back over you.
After a few moments, you think he’s left the room, before you hear the rustling of fabric and feel him leaning down. He gently presses his lips to your forehead and pulls away after a second or two, before quietly mumbling, “Night, kiddo.”
He stays there for a moment before you hear his footsteps leave the room, and then the door clicking shut behind him as he leaves the room entirely.
You’re quick to fall asleep after that.
#cod#cod hcs#hcs#task force 141#simon ghost riley#ghost#age regression#caregiver ghost#ghost x reader#platonic ghost x reader#platonic ghost#i find him so lovely#hes my dad guys trust#i was literally meant to be his kid#trust that if i ever get any cod games with him in it i will spend the whole time admiring him#dad pls come back home#i miss u#python333
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Day 5; Gloves.
╰┈➤"Holding hands comes naturally in a relationship, is what you'd expect. Until you realise, Azul has never removed his gloves, hasn't he?"
╰►Gender neutral reader, oneshot, 1k words.
╰► Character: Azul Ashengrotto, pre-established relationship.
╰►Note: The prompts are based on words I found interesting and then I put them on a roulette to decide when I would write about them, lol. English is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes <3. Not proof read, I haven't written in a long time, so I apologise if anything is out of character.
╰►Masterlist / Inktober Masterlist.
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“Azul?”
“Yes, angelfish?”
“How come I’ve never held your hand?”
“We’ve held hands dear, multiple time already.”
“Of course, but I mean, without your gloves on.”
“Oh…”
(Y/n) laid on one of the sofas of Mostro Lounge’s VIP room, a book on their hands that they were supposed to read for their History of Magic, which was now left behind as they were more interested in Azul’s answer. As usual, the housewarden was on his desk, working on some contracts, promptly leaving his pen down to focus his attention on the magicless student.
The couple had been together for a few weeks now; enough time for Azul to get used to sharing his time, but not enough to openly speak his mind without filter.
“Well…I guess we’ve never had the opportunity to do so.” He replied after thinking about it for about seconds.
“How about now?” The Prefect asked, leaving their book on a table nearby, resting their elbows on the armrest of the sofa to look at housewarden more properly, being able to observe the delicate reddish tone that made its way to adorn his cheeks.
“Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”
“And you’re supposed to be working, yet you’re indulging me, so don’t make excuses.” They chuckled softly, observing Azul for a moment, before frowning slightly. “Perhaps I didn’t consider that you may be uncomfortable by the sensation of someone touching your skin. Do you have hands, when you’re on your octopus form?” The Prefect asked genuinely.
“Of course, I do! Why are you even asking that?” Azul answered immediately, his voice an octave higher due to how absurd their question seemed to be.
“Because I’ve never seen your octopus form and I’m not even from this world, there’s no way for me to know.” They explained nonchalantly. “The Coral Sea culture is as unknown for me as the land culture was for you at first.”
“I’ll let you know that I’m very knowledgeable in land culture, dear.” The Octavinelle second-year defended himself, a slight frown on his face.
“Last time we went into town we saw a bunny and you asked me if it was a dog. You may be smart, but you don’t know everything.” They laughed, this time a bit louder, offending Azul even more. “But we weren’t talking about that. So, if you have hands in your merman form, is it because mermen don’t usually hold hands directly? Or is it that you aren’t used to the sensation of something touching your skin?”
“No, they do hold hands in the same way humans do.” The second year explained. “And I’ve been on land for a while, now, so I’m very accustomed to the sensation of touching things directly without gloves.” He answered their second question.
“Then why don’t you want to hold hands now?”
“Well, that’s….” Azul mumbled, fixing his glasses as a way to partially cover his face to prevent the Prefect from being able to see the embarrassment on his expression. This only increased (Y/n)’s curiosity, making them wonder of the reasons, until something popped up on their mean.
“You…you’ve never had someone hold your hand before, haven’t you?”
“Nonsense! I…”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” The Ramshackle student declared, Azul’s face being enough evidence for them. They got up from the sofa to take a seat on the chair in front of Azul’s desk, finding the merman avoiding eye contact with them. “It’s okay if you haven’t, you know?”
“As far as I’m concerned, people around my age should be expected to have more experience at this, so forgive me for my lack of it.”
“I don’t care about that; I hope you know it.” (Y/n) answered tenderly, extending their arm to softly angle Azul’s face so they could look at them. “Besides, it would be nice to do it for the first time, wouldn’t it?”
“I guess you’re right…”
“Can I?” They questioned, this time signalizing his hand, as he nodded. Then, the Prefect gently took his hand, one of their own delicately holding his wrist as the other removed the glove carefully with a slow pace, occasionally glancing at him.
If there was anything (Y/n) had learned about Azul in the past weeks, it was that he was far more delicate than he let others see, his vulnerable side being more difficult for him to expose, even in front of them, as it was too early. Perhaps, in a year or two, they would talk casually about more intimate matters, but for now, this was enough, one step at a time.
“Well, this is rather nice.” Azul mumbled, and the Prefect could only chuckle softly, lightly squeezing his hand as an answer.
“Your hands seemed to be very soft-Oh!” (Y/n) started calmly, trying not to rush Azul, getting surprised when he was the one who actually took their hand as soon as they removed the glove. His fingers laced their own fingers gently but quickly, as he was expectant to experience the sensation.
“Is it like you expected?”
“I’d say it’s better than I thought.” He answered. “Now I understand why so many couples seemed to have their hands glued to each other when they walked together, back in the town…”
“Yeah, maybe we could try that.” They suggested, promptly raising both of their hands a bit higher, so they could place a kiss upon the back of his hand, watching the housewarden blushing immediately. “Too much?”
“No…But I’m considering that perhaps, I should wear my gloves less when you���re around.”
“You have such nice ideas sometimes.”
They stayed in the same position for a few moments, changing the topic of conversation, as (Y/n) occasionally caressed the side of his hand with their thumb, Azul eventually relaxing at the contact, his paperwork next to him being left on the past, his attention solely focused on his loving partner.
“The next step maybe could be you showing me your octopus form?”
“Absolutely no.”
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#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland oneshot#disney twst#twst x you#twisted wonderland azul#twst oneshot#twst azul#azul ashengrotto x reader#lynnie's post
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part of me wants forever II Sara Doorsoun x Barça!Reader
masterlist I word count: 1672
a/n: hi, it's inspired by this request here, we hope the time jumps aren't too confusing. Let us know what you thought of the oneshot.
This was how it all begun. You didn’t expect your love story to start on an ice-cold evening in November after your team has played a Champions League group stage game against Eintracht Frankfurt, but it did.
“Sara, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Sara.”, Ingrid introduced you to each other, her eyes were shining as the stars above you in the night sky. Maybe it was written somewhere up there, what would be happening in the following days, weeks and months.
You knew the person you fell for would say that it was fate which brought you two together. But for you it was Ingrid who did.
“Hi, Sara, nice to meet you.”, you greeted her smiling.
“Nice to meet you too.”, the older defender replied. The brown eyes who wee looking back at you were so beautiful like the person to whom they belonged too, they were something you could get lost into if this wasn’t an away game and you’d have to leave soon to the hotel you were staying at.
“You guys played really well.”, you complimented Sara in an honest tone. It was true, especially in the first half they had a stellar performance, in which Laura Freigang scored the opening goal, but in the second half your team turned it around and you won fairly comfortably with a 3:1.
“Thank you. So did you.. obviously.”, the german player answered with an amused grin on her lips.
“Y/n, we got to hurry up!”, Mapi reminded you impatiently.
“Don’t worry, Mapi. I’m coming.”, you reassured her, trying to shake off her fingers on the hood of your jacket.
“See you soon.”, Sara waved at you.
“I literally can’t wait.”, you told her. Even though you only shared some polite words with each other you had a feeling that this wasn’t the end of your script together.
On the next day your team was on the way home, the bus taking you from the Barcelona airport to the place where your cars have been parked.
“Y/n?”, Ingrid looked up from her phone to turn her attention towards you who was sitting on the seats opposite of Mapi and her.
“Yes?”, you responded, lifting your gaze from the book you were currently reading.
“Sara messaged me.”, the Norwegian informed you, wearing a mischievous smile on her face.
“You mean Sara as in the cute Frankfurt defender.”, you replied innocently.
“Who else, genius!”, Fridolina laughed, sitting right behind you, she and Ingrid had to play with the player during their times in Wolfsburg.
“Do you know how many Sara’s there are?!”, you asked the Swedish player.
“Yes, but none of them looked at you the way she did. So, what was in Sara’s message, Ingrid?”, Fridolina stated.
Ingrids face split into a wide grin as she read the message on her phone screen: “She asked for her number.“
“You know what? You can give her my number.“, you said in a burst of courage that made Ingrid only smile brighter.
“I’ll.“
“Thank you.“
You watched the Norwegian type on her phone. “You’re welcome.“
Sara had immediately texted you that night. And as the months had passed, texting her became a daily habit for you. From good morning to good night, you shared your free-time with her. You haven’t felt that connected with someone for a long time.
One day you decided to jokingly text her about your shared taste in music, not expecting anything from it.
“Fletcher has a concert in Barcelona. You should come with us, Sara.“
“To a Fletcher concert?“, she wrote back, seemingly unimpressed.
“Yes, Jana got tickets.“, you answered.
You waited impatiently, the three dots appearing as she typed.
“I can’t say no to that.“, appeared on your phone screen.
You smiled happily: “Perfect.“
A few weeks after your text conversation, you found yourself at the concert, singing along while Sara had her arms wrapped around you. It was a casual gesture as you swayed from side to side with the rhythm.
Jana rolled her eyes: “Ugh, stop, you two lovebirds!“
“We’re doing nothing!“, you laughed, full of innocence.
“Literally.“, Sara agreed, continuing to move you with her.
Jana pulled out her phone: “Wait, let me at least take a picture of how annoying you two are.“
She snapped a few photos, a fond smirk on her face. You turned your attention back to the singer. This night was perfect and you wanted to enjoy every moment of it.
The Fletcher concert was something you liked to think back to during your busy football season.
The same was true for the biggest game of the season, the Champions League final. As expected, it was a tight game, Lyon made it hard to get through their defense. Only Aitana and Alexia found a way. So when the final whistle sounded, you were overcome with a mix of relief and happiness.
You hugged your teammates tightly, still processing what you had just achieved when Ingrid tapped you on the shoulder and pointed towards the stands. “Y/n, look who came.“
You only blinked at her for a moment before your gaze finally followed the direction of her hand gesture.
Saras face grinned at you from the stands. The sight of her was enough to make your heart pound in your chest.
You left Ingrid standing and ran over to Sara, stopping right in front of the Frankfurt defender: “Sara, I thought you couldn’t be here?!“
She only flashed you a wry smile: “Change of plans.“
“That’s amazing.”, you muttered, exchanging a short, but soft kiss with your girlfriend.
“You’re welcome.”, Sara smirked at you, as she wrapped her arms around you into a hug.
Mirroring the happiness Laura Feiersinger appeared next to her former Frankfurt teammate:” I almost lost her at the place when they sold the cake.”
“Very typical.”, you giggled, it was no secret that your lover has a sweet tooth.
Nervously Sara put a loose string of hair behind her ear:” That’s not true.”
“Sure.”, the Austrian midfielder smiled amusedly.
“It just looked so delicious.”, the German player defended herself, while a blush crept onto her high cheekbones.
“To be fair it did.”, Laura admitted.
“See?”, Sara responded satisfied.
“Well, I do.”, you tuned into their conversation, before your girlfriend kissed you, to celebrate the Champions League win properly.
Having Sara with you during all the chaos which was going on in the night was very special to you. In the morning you two chose to go on a walk to see a bit of the city. It amazed you to watch your girlfriend being so in peace with herself.
The defender was a warm person and over the weeks you’ve been together she started to share some pieces of herself and her history which you found admirable. Her late coming out, a father who wasn’t saying anything against that, but also didn’t like to talk about it anymore.
The heartbreak Sara felt when the first woman she fell for broke up with her. It impacted her so much that during an important game she scored an own goal. And her questioning if she could ever fall in love like that again? The German player knew the answer now, she was capable of loving again, you showed her how.
Fast forward and it was time to be with your national teams again, you both couldn’t wait for the upcoming free days afterwards which you planned to spend together.
“Sara, we got to talk.”, Lena Oberdorf yelled at the older woman who just sat down with Felicitas Rauch in the dining room of the hotel they were staying at.
“About what?”, Sara frowned who didn’t know her best friend in the team knew what the young midfielder was thinking about.
“I was suspecting you fell in love again, but now Obi found proof of it multiple ones.”, the fellow defender who played in the USA explained with a cheeky smile on her lips.
“What are you talking about?”, the Frankfurt player asked her teammates innocently.
“You and y/n, who football wise is so out of your league.”, Lena replied grinning.
“Beauty wise too.”, Felicitas added in a teasingly tone.
“Excuse me? That’s not what friends are supposed to say.”, Sara protested, her mouth formed to a little pout.
Felicitas smiled apologetically: “Just kidding… but playing wise not. She’s at the best football club in Europe!“
“And she and her team won against you this season. Twice.“, Lena added, rubbing salt into the wound.
“I’m aware of that.“, Sara shrugged unimpressed.
“Just a friendly reminder.“, Lena said.
Sara rolled her eyes: “That doesn’t mean we can’t go out.“
“True. I guess she’s the reason you can’t visit me in the US in your free time?“, Felicitas asked, casually changing the subject.
“That’s not true! You’re always busy!“, Sara protested.
Her best friend raised her eyebrows: “So are you apparently!“
“It’s not because of her. I’m still a football player.“, Sara explained, cringing at the thought of how packed both of their schedules were.
“I know that. So when will you introduce me to her?“, Felicitas continued.
Sara only groaned in response.
In the evening, you were on the phone with Sara as she recounted the details of the talk she had with her teammates.
“So they know about us now?“, you concluded, a smile on your lips.
“Yes, apparently we’re on Ingrids photo dump.“, Sara replied with a laugh.
You shook your head about your Norwegian teammate: “Ingrid might have done that on purpose. Sorry for that.“
“Typical.“, Sara sighed, slight fondness for her former teammate sneaking into her voice.
“She said she had a feeling when she introduced us and I believe her.“
“There’s no way!“
You sucked in your breath in feigned shock: “And I thought you were the romantic!“
“Oh, I am. I just like to think that it was fate.“, Sara replied. You could almost hear the wink through the phone.
Lowering your voice, you whispered: “Me too. I want this to be forever.“
pictures are from pinterest.
#sara doorsoun#sara doorsoun x reader#sara doorsoun imagine#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso oneshot#woso one shot#woso imagine#woso fluff#woso#woso community#eintracht frankfurt frauen#gerwnt#dfb frauen#lena oberdorf#felicitas rauch#barcelona femeni#barcelona femeni x reader#ingrid engen#Spotify
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Best Intentions ༓ myg (m)
✑ Summary: As vice president, you are obligated to attend your boss's wedding–you're also his friend. But while you should be focused on the newlyweds, you find yourself far too interested in the attractive best man and the woman who happens to be his plus one.
Pairing: best man!yoongi x vice president!reader
AU/genre: angst, smut, slight thriller, s2l, oneshot
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 3,753
Warnings: No infidelity, dark yoongi, sexual content, death (not major character)
sexual warnings: dom!yoongi, sub!reader, cussing, handj*b, unprotected s*x (don't follow their lead!), penetration, car sex, d*rty talk, they c*me together, yoongi has tattoos
Now Playing: Haegeum
A/N: Little nervous about this one butI haven't written fic inspired by Haegeum yet so here we go! Hope you enjoy 💞
You watch as he brushes a few pieces of his dark locks out of his face. Never have you seen such a handsome and alluring man. He takes a seat on the barstool, nodding at the bartender in greeting. “Whiskey, neat. And a sex on the beach for the lady.”
He turns his head over his right shoulder, sparing a glance at the gentle hand resting on him. The woman who it belongs to is nothing short of radiant and confident. Her body is athletically built, her skin soft but tough. Her name is Yeong-Ja and she happens to be his plus one.
“__.” She smiles at you with ruby-red lips. “Why don’t you join us?” Her tone is thick and laced with sensuality. You fight the temptation but you feel instantly small compared to her. It’s not that you find yourself unattractive or anything but Yeong-Ja has a certain aura that’s incredibly rare.
The man, Min Yoongi, sets his gaze on you with a similar intensity. You only met the both of them about half an hour ago and they were already perfectly successful at making your bones quake. You’ve heard the idea of power couples a million times and though Min Yoongi and Yeong-Ja weren't officially together, you'd be a fool to think I'd never happen. They came here together after all.
“Thank you for the invite,” you reply, keeping your eyes as firm as you can. “But I still need to pay my respects to President Kim and his lovely new wife.”
Yeong-Ja taps Yoongi twice, signaling him to stand up. “I need to do that too actually. Why don’t we go together?”
He stays seated despite her gesture. “The drinks haven’t come out yet. I’ll wait for them if you two wanna go.” He looks at you again with his piercing, cat-like eyes. “You sure you don’t want anything __?”
You smooth down the sides of your dress, a nervous response you picked up since a teenager. You wish he wouldn’t follow the movement but he does. “Sure, maybe a strawberry daiquiri.”
Yoongi gives a nod and asks the bartender to include it in the order. “Thank you,” you say.
“Shall we?” Yeong-Ja breaks from Yoongi to near your side. “President Kim’s about to have a ton of guests giving their congratulations. It’s best we do it before the newlyweds run out of steam.”
You nod and make your way to the wedding table.
"Congratulations President and Mrs. Kim." You bow in respect until you're pulled into a light hug.
"Thank you __," Mrs. Kim says. You'd be surprised by the hug if it weren't for the fact that the two of you have known each other since before she and your boss first started dating.
You were the one to set them up actually.
You never thought you'd have that much gull with your boss but you and Seokjin had been working together for a long time. You considered him a friend.
"I'm very happy for the both of you." You smile warmly and embrace Mrs. Kim a little tighter. "And you make such a beautiful bride."
Once broken apart, Yeong-Ja bows herself. "President Kim, Mrs. Kim." They bow in return. "I'm honored to be a guest at your wedding. I wish you both a strong, healthy marriage."
Mrs. Kim smiles wide and touches the woman on the wrist. "Thank you Yeong-Ja....I'm hoping to be a guest at your wedding as well. If you don't mind me asking, how long have you and Yoongi been seeing each other?"
Swallow it. That suddenly sick, queasy feeling in your stomach. If Yoongi was planning to get serious with Yeong-Ja, it's none of your business.
Yeong-Ja blushes and lets out a small chuckle. "Of course, I'll be sure to invite you to my wedding but I'm afraid that won't be anytime soon. Yoongi and I have only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks."
Weeks? With the chemistry they have you figured they were at least at months.
"I wouldn't be too set on it being far out into the future," Seokjin says. "One of my colleagues got married after only six months of dating his girlfriend."
"Who was that?" You mouth to which he replied with 'gguk'. Ah, makes sense now.
"Plus," Seokjin continues, "Yoongi's always talking about you and that's saying a lot considering he's pretty brief in general. Whatever you got, it's keeping his attention." He blinks up and cracks a smirk. "Speak of the devil."
Yoongi walks towards the group of you with a drink in each hand. You really need to not stare at his perfectly chiseled face, stoic eyes, and slicked-back hair. Especially after hearing that he's been practically gushing about Yeong-Ja. Still, a bitch doesn't listen.
"Strawberry daiquiri." He passes you your drink before handing Yeong-Ja hers. "And a sex on the beach." He keeps a straight face as he does this.
You notice he's taken his suit jacket off since your last interaction. His sleeves are rolled up too, veins softly protruding.
"Many thanks," you say, taking a sip. "Where's your whiskey?" You distinctively remember him asking the bartender for one but it's nowhere in sight.
Yoongi gives a quick shrug. "Already drank it."
Before another word is spoken the stereos in the reception are cranked up. Yeong-Ja takes a sip of her drink and then snakes her hand into Yoongi's arm. "Come on, we should dance. You too __."
You shake your head. Absolutely not. Dancing is fun when you're with friends but not so much with couples. You learned that the hard way many times when you'd be told that you'll all dance together.
Wrong for you to fall for that.
As soon as a slow, sensual song came on, you'd be hitting the bar or going back to your claimed table in the corner.
"No I'm good. I wanna sit and enjoy my drink for now." You lift your glass to make your point clearer.
Yeong-Ja smiles at you, then tightens her grip around Yoongi's arm and drags him to the dance floor.
You try not to watch them.
You even try sitting in the chair facing opposite of them.
But you look like a wallflower.
Several men come up to you to ask you if you want to dance, thinking you're only waiting for an invitation. Nice of them to offer but you take no interest.
The only man you remotely have your mind on is currently being swayed by another woman. And after about twenty minutes of watching, you find out that Yeong-Ja is not only a sharp thinker and sweet talker—she's also a stunning dancer.
You can tell at first Yoongi is half-assing it but once she starts getting into the beat, his efforts double.
When it comes to the slower songs, however, you can't help but notice a shift in his posture. Yeong-Ja links both arms around his neck in an effort to close the gap between her and Yoongi. It doesn't close, however, as he keeps a safe distance.
It's odd, to say the least but maybe he's just not used to that type of intimacy yet. You continue to study the two of them until you're caught red-handed. Yoongi's eyes shift over to peer into yours.
You have to snap yourself out of your daze a few times. He's definitely just staring off due to the somber music. He's not looking at you.
Oh, shit—he is.
Yoongi traces his eyes down the lines of your dress, all the way down your bare legs and back up to your eyes. His gaze is heavy and gives you goosebumps.
You grip your glass with one hand while the other clings to the edge of your dress, earning you a half-smirk from him.
Fuck.
He's a man of few words but his non-verbals speak volumes.
"She's not his girlfriend." Seokjin looks up at you from his seated position. Mrs. Kim was mingling with some of her close friends so you seized the chance to ask Seokjin about what had just happened. You needed a second opinion. "But they came here together so I assume they're going out. Are you sure he was giving you suggestive looks?"
"I mean, they weren't that suggestive but he definitely body-scanned me and smirked." You pause before continuing. "I'm trying not to think about it in case—uh I don't know. I'm sorry, it's your wedding day and I shouldn't be bothering you about this stuff."
"__, we've been working basically side by side for ten years. Yes I'm your boss still but right now I'd like to think we're friends. You're not bothering me, okay? And as far as Yoongi goes, just ignore it. He was likely smiling at you and it came off as a smirk. If it happens again maybe ask him about it because as far as I know, things are going good between him and Yeong-Ja." Obviously not that well if he's checking out someone else. You bite back the need to speak your mind.
"Okay," you agree. "You're right. It was likely just nothing."
"But you didn't finish your sentence." Seokjin pipes up before you return to your seat. "You're trying not to think about in case what?"
Let's see....how to reply while remaining subtle as possible. Seokjin and Yoongi are close friends so you need to choose your words very carefully.
Telling him you have interest in Yoongi when he's told you over and over again that he's seeing someone would not end well. A classic Kim Seokjin scold would be in dire order.
"....just in case I'm just being foolish or exaggerating what really happened." You say the words casually, no a trace of a fib. "But thanks Seokjin, for letting me talk to you about it."
"Hey." Yoongi catches you in the hallway. Apparently also needed to use the restroom. You do your best to shrug off what happened earlier.
"Hi, how was dancing?" You ask stupidly.
"It was alright. Not usually my thing but I guess I didn't mind. You sure you didn't wanna join us though? Saw a few guys come up to you."
"You saw that?" And here you were thinking you were delusional for thinking Yoongi was purposefully paying attention to you. It causes a twinge of adrenaline to zap through your body. "I didn't really feel like dancing today, that's all."
For a second you and Yoongi exchange silence. You're not sure if he's done talking or if you need to fill the space with more small talk.
"I'm glad it was better for you than usual. Yeong-Ja looks like she knows what she's doing." You fake a small laugh, hoping to break the tension but Yoongi's face remains straight. "Well I should get back in there." You end up slowly walking away but he stops you.
"We don't know each other super well but, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier."
"What are you refering to?"
Yoongi gives you a 'really' look before flashing a gummy smile. It's the first time tonight you've seen him smile so fully. Your breath hitches as he continues. "I think we both know the answer to that. Don't you know how captivating you look in this dress?"
If your mouth wasn't gaping before it such as heck is now. But as giddy as the compliment makes you, you're in no way going to mess up a potentially blossoming relationship. You sure as hell hope that Yoongi isn't double-crossing Yeong-Ja, even if you do wish you'd be in her shoes a little.
"Um, not to be so forward but aren't you with Yeong-Ja? I appreciate the compliment though I'd—"
"We're not serious."
"Excuse me?" You as so utterly lost. Sure he and Yeong-Ja weren't together officially yet but they came here as each other's date. Seokjin and his wife were also making comments about their supposedly romantic relationship and she wasn't denying it so why is he coming onto you like this?
"That didn't come out right. I mean, we're not together romantically but we do work together. I asked her to come because I figured she'd be good company. Seokjin thinks we mold together well but I'm not really interested. To keep it short, I respect her as a coworker and consider her in the highest regard, professionally."
"You're not lying to me right? Because she seems really interested and I don't want to get in the way of anything. I'm not that type of woman alright?" You cross your arms reflexively.
Yoongi takes a step towards you, focused intent. "I have no reason to lie to you __. It's true Yeong-Ja may be interested but she's not the one I've spent half the night staring at."
The hairs on your neck stand straight. Blood rushes through your veins. "You should probably tell Yeong-Ja your feelings then."
"I did," Yoongi interuppts. "When we were back in there she came onto me. I thought all the slow, romantic music was getting to her but she kept trying to kiss me so I had to tell her I wasn't interested in anything beyond friendship."
"Oh, well, is she okay or—"
"She'll be fine. She's like me, not much fazes her. She's likely hitting on the next guy that takes her fancy now." Yoongi inches closer, and you take in the cologne he's wearing. It's subtle but enough to knock you out of your senses. "So you see, I'm not that kind of man either."
"Well good because I would have kicked you in the balls if you were double-crossing Yeong-Ja."
Yoongi snorts. "I'd expect nothing less. But thankfully, my balls are safe for now."
Great, now you're thinking about his balls. Yoongi's breath blows hot against your skin as the space between you seems to get narrower and narrower.
"Do you wanna get out of here for a bit?" He asks with a hoarse voice. "I was thinking about going out for a quick smoke."
"I don't smo—" Yoongi quirks a provocative brow. "Oh, " you finish, knowing full well he isn't proposing to have just a smoke.
You shudder as he towers above you in the backseat of his Bentley. Evidently, Yoongi did well for himself. "We shouldn't be doing this here." When Yoongi proposed you to go out, you didn't expect him to be this quick to get down and dirty.
Fooling around is one thing, but fucking in the backseat of his car in the middle of a wedding is a whole new animal for you.
"No one's gonna see if that's what you're worried about. Everyone's too busy wishing the newlyweds well..." His car is short on space but Yoongi manages to remove his silk vest. The skin of his smooth chest peeks out near the collar of his dress shirt. "But if you wanna stop here then, I won't force you any further."
God this is so indecent but you want him so, so bad. His body on yours, in yours—fuck him for being this hard to resist. You grip the fabric of his shirt and tug him back down.
Yoongi takes the opportunity to sink his head near your ear. "I was hoping this would be your answer." Your eyes roll up when he places a hot, open-mouth kiss on your neck. It's not sloppy but rather controlled as if hinting that this isn't his first go around.
"Take it out for me sweetheart." He coos after a few more nips at your jaw. The look of bewilderment on your face brings out a cocky smirk. "Please?"
His eyes turn playful as he watches you fumble with his belt. "Sorry," he says. "I usually prefer doing this myself but given the position we're in, it's better you do it." You nod. "I'd also take my time with you if it weren't for the fact that we're in my car right now." Who's fault is that? You bite down your bitterness.
"I understand." You pull at his belt buckle, releasing the leather from its hold. He groans when the tips of your fingers graze his bulge. Once you unzip the front of his pants you reach forward to free his cock.
"Fuck," Yoongi breathes, his hard length pulsating in your hand. You whimper and reflexively squeeze him harder. "Shit, don't."
You feel hot all over, drunk on the pleasure he's getting from this. "But you like this," you say, moving your hand up and down his shaft. Arousal pools in your panties as you watch him struggle to gain his composure. You wouldn't be disappointed if he came in your hand from this, but Yoongi puts a stake in those plans like a tidal wave.
He reaches between his legs, suddenly yanking your hand off of him to place it above your head. "You know what I really like __?" He grabs your other hand to join it with the other. "When people listen to what their told the first time."
He pushes up the skirt of your dress, tugs your panties to the side, and thrusts himself into you in one full motion. The immediate stretch has you gasping for air. "Fuck Yoongi–" Yes, you're wet but you still need time to adjust! "Yoongi please, I need a second."
He doesn't respond with any more than husky groans as he steadies himself above you, hands clamping down on your waist. Yoongi stills himself in you, waiting for your signal to move and when you give it to him he wastes no time setting a vigorous pace.
Every push and pull sets your body on fire as his length beats inside you. You move to claw at his back, desperately needing something to grip, but your hands are thrown back down. "Leave them," he growls.
You end up clutching your wrists as your body bounces up and down the seat of the car. The friction is a little rough due to the leather material but you don't have time to think much about it as long as Yoongi keeps fucking you this good.
"Feels-ah-amazing Yoongi, fuck. How'd you get so good at this?"
"How do you think sweetheart?" He wraps one of your legs around his waist, the new angle allows him to sink deeper into your gut. Your hips arch and a few more buttons on Yoongi's dress shirt pop open.
"You have a–chest-chest tattoo?" It's only a blur and you barely get a glimpse when he leans his body forward. But over his heart is black ink in the form of what you can only guess as some kind of wild cat.
"Mhm," he grunts. "Got it when I was 19. One of those impulsive things. Fuck–" he curses feeling you clench around him. "Is this a turn-on for you? You're squeezing me so fucking hard right now."
"Yes. My attraction for you went up about 100%, I can't explain it."
He's amused, shit-eating grin on his far too handsome face. "Well lucky for you, you don't have to explain anything. Open my shirt."
You do as he says and swallow hard seeing the tattoo of a bobcat over his left pec. He can tell you want to ask about it but being that his cock is deep in your heat, he's a little preoccupied. "I'll tell you about it later when we're not you know–fucking like rabbits in the back seat of my Bentley."
You let out a small giggle. It's a wonder no one's caught you yet. Yoongi picks up the pace again, with rough thrusts and beads of sweat around his forehead. "Fuck this pussy is making me so hard. Never been in something so wet and tight in my life." You moan as his cock drags in and out of you, stimulating your g-spot only too perfectly.
"Oh god 'm gonna come Yoongi!" You can't hold back your screams anymore. He's hitting inside you so well, cock throbbing, hair sweaty, muscles tensing, and that sinful chest tattoo teasing in front of your eyes.
"Damn right you are, make this cock yours sweetheart."
Your pussy starts spasming around him. You throw your head back, feeling your tightened core close to unwinding. Yoongi's cock twitches inside you in the seconds following before you both have your release.
Yoongi takes himself out of you, cock dripping with your cum. Your breaths are heavy as you blink up at him from your reclined position. "First time fucking in a car?" he asks, monotone.
"Mhm."
"Did you like it?"
"Mhm."
"Good, I'll give you a few minutes to gather yourself."
Once you both manage to make yourself presentable again, you head back to the reception.
"Where the fuck have you been?!" Yeong-Ja hollers at Yoongi, rushing to him through the parking lot. You're startled at her sharp tone but the closer she gets the more your stomach feels unsettled.
She doesn't give you a glance at all, her attention fully on Yoongi. "Min," she starts. Odd of her to be calling him by his last name all the sudden. "We need to leave now."
You dart your eyes at the two of them. "What-what's going on? It hasn't been that long, did something happen?" Yeong-Ja hesitates to answer so you turn to the man next to you. "Yoongi–Oh my god!" You screech when you see a glowing, red dot hovering over his heart.
Yoongi follows your line of sight. "Shit–" He curses under his breath. "Of all fucking times."
Okay, what the fuck is going on?
Yeong-Ja swiftly pulls out a gun from what appears to be a thigh holster. When she does, you spot the same bobcat tattoo on her upper thigh.
Yeong-Ja cocks the gun before aiming it to the far left. She takes the shot, the red dot instantly disappearing from Yoongi's chest.
"You don't know Yoongi very well __." Yeong-Ja lowers her gun ever so slightly. "To the outside, he's Min Yoongi, a reserved and calculative data analyst, best man to your boss Kim Seokjin. But to the inside world, he's Agust D, leader of the most feared mafia gang, Bangtan."
"I'm sorry sweetheart," Yoongi says. "I wanted to spare you from this. But now that you know our dirty little secret we can't possibly let you go."
So she's his right-hand man.
When Yoongi said they were coworkers, this was not what you were expecting.
How the fuck do you get out of this?
Masterlist
A/N: Me through this whole thing...how do I write warnings without giving away the ending? Anyway, tysm for reading and LMK what you think 💞
Note: Pls help me decide if i should turn this into a series of keep it a one shot ➡ vote here ☺
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
#yoongi smut#yoongi angst#yoongi x reader#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts imagines#bts x reader#bts angst#bts scenarios#fic:bestintentions#kookslastbutton
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hey :) an idea for a oneshot/fic has been on my mind for a while, student reader in 1A gets kicked out from home and is homeless, aizawa realised something is up with one of his students and makes reader admit what’s going on, happy ending? (please i’m begging)
Happy Endings - Aizawa Shouta
A/N: This has been sitting in my inbox for lord knows how long and I’m so sorry. I turned this into hc’s since I haven’t written for BNHA in a long time. Idk, I kinda just lost interest and stopped watching. I need to catch up. Maybe then I’ll get back to writing for this fandom. I hope this is ok.
It wasn’t too hard to notice a change in your behavior
Aizawa is an extremely observant pro-hero
And he cares for his students more than he’d let on
So of course he noticed when you showed up in a slightly dirty uniform as opposed to usually wearing clean ones
Or when your hair isn’t as clean or neat as it used to be
Not to mention the bags under your eyes that were never there before
So the man asks you to stay after class one day so he could check up on you
It doesn’t take much prying for him to learn that your parents had kicked you out and you had no one else to stay with
Needless to say he was infuriated
And you were afraid upon seeing his eyes glow red and his hair raise, but only for a moment
Aizawa has a strange calming aura around him
Immediately assures you that he isn’t upset with you, just with your so-called ‘parents’
Dismisses you for class
But oh buddy that’s not where this ends
He finds you after school, Present Mic not far behind him, both dressed in civilian clothing
And that’s when they offer that you stay with them, just until UA finished building their dorms
Best offer you could have ever accepted, considering you literally didn’t have anything to lose
They even make sure to make your favorite food for dinner, just to put you at ease
And you may or may not have seen your old parents on the news next morning, found unconscious in the middle of the biggest and most popular park in town
#comfort#x reader#platonic#bnha#bnha aizawa#aizawa shouta#shouta aizawa#aizawa sensei#aizawa#aizawa x reader comfort#dadzawa#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#mha aizawa#eraserhead#bnha comfort#bnha fluff#aizawa shota x reader#platonic aizawa x reader#aizawa shouta head canons#shouta aizawa x reader
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A kiss from a rose
John Dory x mute! 1/2
Summary: (takes place after the band split up, and on) John Dory shows up out of nowhere, but with that he brings trouble, the trouble of the mind and the heart.
Words: 1746
Warnings: one moment of violence, no color coding because JD is the only one who talks in this fic
A/N: Goodbye 2023: Hello 2024! First oneshot of the year and seriously so tired after new years. I thank you all for the support on my Floyd oneshot, you guys make writing worth it! Also I imagine you live in a small house, and not a pod. Just cuz I like the idea. (Side A/N: I wrote half of this at 1 am after new years and I have more written it just turned to gibberish after a while and I had to sleep lmao. So stay tuned for a part 2!) I FORGOT TO ADD TAGS 😭😭😭
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The mysterious man showed up out of nowhere, which honestly startled you and your father. He showed up in an armadillo bus that was way out of whack. You were an only child and a quiet one at that. So from a distance, your dad told you to be his danger surveillance.
Upon further examination, you managed to grip your dad's shirt and send him a message that the strange man needed help. With his kindest heart, he goes to lend a hand to him.
You never understood how your father can comprehend what you're saying, you’ve been mute since birth. Nobody knew why, but you just haven’t spoken a word. In fact, your first “word” was you writing on a piece of paper for the first time.
When your dad came back, all he did was make another plate of food and walk out. This time you watched, and paid close attention. Your dad gave the man food and that’s when you realized. He wasn’t a man at all! He seemed to be around your age. It was strangely exciting to see.
You pulled away from the window and sat down to finish your food. You then heard your dad reenter and he mentioned nothing of the exchange, but you didn’t care. It was your dad, he was almost just as quiet as you were.
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Then a year went by, and your dad made sure to take care of you just right. You were a bit older now, and a bit taller. Your little small town was growing smaller with each passing day, and now you knew everything like the back of your hand. However, a certain someone didn’t.
You walk out of your home to begin delivering your dad’s trinkets around town. Use your roller skates to travel from door to door. Handing in tiny things like keychains, dream catchers, or even shoelaces. Your dad was quite the tinker.
Then your heart dropped when you realized you’d have to give food to the armadillo bus inhabitant. So you rolled in front of his bus and pet the lovely creature a few times, before anxiously heading toward the door.
It only took a few knocks when suddenly out popped a guy wearing goggles and a jacket far too thick for the summertime. You handed him his trinket. Which was a keychain with the word “BROZONE” across the small crocheted add-on.
You were about to leave when his voice cut through the silence. “Woah! This looks even cooler than I thought it would! Thanks!” He grins at you, expecting a response, but when silence follows he pushes his goggles onto his head. “Uh…did I come across too strong there? Or are you stunned into silence because you’re looking at a former member of Brozone?”
Your social ticking time bomb was ticking, it was a common small-town rule to not talk to you because you’d start crying or something, but this is new. This is just discomfort. His words turned to mumbles as you began to go on autopilot.
Suddenly a hand touches your shoulders. A billion thoughts run through your head, you look up at him and see his face coming closer. Instincts kick in and you wind up punching him in the face. Straight knock out right hook into the nose.
The crack made you snap back into reality. He’s on the ground, groaning in pain. you don’t like consequences. So instantaneously, who does? So You run off. Your feet pitter-patter in the ground below, scared of what your father would do if you found out.
You hide away after that moment, your dad did find out, but geez did he find it funny. That was the first time you’d heard him laugh in ages. So he put the shop on hold and decided to teach you how to make trinkets instead. So that event never happens again.
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You were in your mid-20s when you started delivering again. However, you made an effort to avoid the armadillo bus with all your being. However, you caught glimpses of Bus-man looking out at you while you worked. Your nerves nearly get the best of you every time you catch it.
When the end of the day came around the corner you made it home and sat on your porch swing. You swung until the sun went down, but in the meantime, you were looking ahead, then caught sight of the man lazily sitting outside too. But when he caught sight of you he suddenly puffed out his chest and grinned. Wiggling his eyebrows.
You shot him a weird look and looked away. What was that? Was he…flirting with you? You punched him in the face! Why was he flirting? After about an hour you felt something hit your shoulder. When you looked, it was a crude paper ball, you opened it. It said: “My name is JD, John, the leader, John Dory, what's yours?”
You laughed when you saw the crossed-off names, you pulled a pencil out of your hair and wrote your name on the paper. You looked up and looked around. Eyes closed in on him as he tried to act natural. You smirked and threw it back at him, hitting him in the head. You gasped and looked away. Your cheeks become red like fire.
The game of toss continued. You and him having a nice conversation about flowers. Which led to him calling you Buttercup. You didn't know why this made you blush, but a nickname was new for you.
Eventually, you told him goodnight and waved to him. He waved too, but you could've sword-he punched the air in excitement before going inside.
It became routine. Every night you two would be outside neighbors, talking to one another on paper. You’d share one fact about yourself, and he'd share several. He was far more open than you were, and he was fine with it.
Until one night it came to the subject of verbal communication.
You explained to him your situation and he started asking so many questions. It made you sort of uncomfortable. Then in a shocking turn of events, he changed the subject to something debatably worse.
“Why did you punch me?”
Your eyes widened and you turned red again. You heard his loud boisterous laughter at your reaction and you felt a knot tie in your stomach. Your heart fluttered and all your hairs stood on end. What was going on?
He then yells out to you, as his first time communicating verbally. “It's alright buttercup! I forgive you!” His grin was infectious, leaving you wanting to see it more often.
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When you started visiting his bus, the two of you became inseparable. Seeing as you were nonverbal you'd usually listen to him spout pure nonsense half the time. Sometimes he'd just break out into song.
Your favorite nights are when he'd break into song and ask you to dance with him. You'd always decline. Which always disappointed him but he was just fine dancing all by his lonesome.
“Baby! I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey!” he'd fall to his knees and outstretched his arms to you “come on! Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah!” he’d continue singing even as you shook your head.
When he kept dancing, on rare occasions you giggled, very quietly. He'd catch it and make a big deal out of it, causing you to blush and quietly giggle yourself into oblivion.
He'd leave you alone for a while, eventually getting back to telling stories. You explored the but a little while he spoke, he watched you, explaining some messes and creating excuses for others. That is until you stopped in a corner, picking up a vinyl. John shot up. Stumbling over to you.
“That uh. That's-” you looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Which may have been the first time he understood what you were saying without you writing on a piece of paper.
He sighed heavily and slumped onto the couch “it’s a pretty boring story.” he huffed out a laugh, crossing his arms as he leaned into the corner of his couch. “You wouldn't like it.”
You frowned, carrying the vinyl over to him. You sat down beside him and looked him in the eyes. Silently asking him to go on, when your hand landed on his knee. He looked at your hand then at you. “Well buckle up because this is gonna be a long one.”
He tells you everything, you don't flinch, make a face, nor do you judge. His story is depressing. He seems so angry and frustrated about it. Something about the way he talks about his brothers made you want to hug him and comfort him with every bone in your body.
His anger rises as he reaches the end. His nose flaring and his eyes widened. “I just wanted us to be great! To be the best boyband there ever was but no! They kept complaining and-” he was cut off by the look you were giving him. His breath hitched at the sight of your eyes so sincere and caring, it was different for him.
He tore his eyes away and crossed his arms. “I just wish. I just wish we were still brothers.” you gripped his hand squeezing it tight and he seemed to get the message. “I know I know. They're my brothers whether they like it or not.”
You nodded, running your fingers through his tall hair then looking him in the eye. There was a moment of clarity there. Your cheeks turned 6 shades of red, when his eyes snapped lower on your face. You stood up and took a deep breath. You awkwardly pointed at the door. A shy smile on your face as you gravitated to the bus door.
You felt bad at the look of disappointment he had, but also you were still friends at this point. You couldn't ruin that. Not because you would hate being with him, but it's too good to lose. His expression changed back to his regular one and he stood up to help you out.
“After you M’lady Buttercup,”
You rolled your eyes, but stopped for a minute to look at him, thinking about what you should do. In your fear and anxiety. You waved him goodbye. Leaving him wanting much more from you.
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To be continued…
Next
#fanfiction#trolls#trolls band together#trolls fandom#trolls fanfic#trolls fanfiction#trolls franchise#trolls x reader#dreamworks trolls#john dory#john dory x reader#trolls 3#trolls john dory#john dory trolls#brozone x reader#brozone
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love me softly
→ Summary: When your long-distance boyfriend's visit falls through, you decide to make the most of your free time. But after a day out, you're in for an unexpected surprise when you get home.
↠ taeyong x f.reader | 1.9k words | 18+ ↠ genre: angst, fluff, smut, established relationship, idol au, long distance au
→ Warnings: lots of pet names, a touch of sad vibes in the beginning but that turns around pretty quickly, the sweetest softest smut i’ve written in a while, praise kink, the lightest hair pulling idk if it really counts lol, body worship (yong really really love his girl okay), creampie, unprotected & explicit sex, if i’m missing any lemme know
→ Networks: @k-vanity @ksmutsociety
→ Author Note: happy october :) this is just a lil shortie oneshot (which was supposed to be a drabble skldjfa;lksdfj) to get me back on writing track, i’ve got a big spooky fic coming in the next few weeks!! divider credit
“I know, baby, I’m sorry,” Taeyong mumbles through his phone. “It’s taking us longer to film than we anticipated, so I’m gonna be delayed another day at least.”
Your boyfriend had initially set aside time in his very busy schedule to come visit you after he finished filming his newest music video in LA; which should’ve wrapped up a few days ago. Since you live on opposite sides of the world, he wanted to take advantage of being only a few states apart instead continents apart. You’re just a quick three hour flight away and he’s been thinking about seeing you ever since he planned this break in his schedule.
Except his plans keep changing; first it was production problems and now it’s the weather. They just can’t catch a break. And all of this is cutting into the time he is supposed to spend with you.
“Is it even worth visiting now? We’ll only have a day or two left from the week we planned together."
Taeyong’s brows furrow, “It’s worth it to me, you’re worth it. I know it’s not ideal, baby, but I miss you so much. Even if we only have a couple of hours together, I’ll still come to you when this is finished.”
Hearing the film crew calling his name through the phone, you sigh, letting the welled up tears fall down your cheeks. They’re ready to start filming the next scene and he has to go, again. You won’t be seeing him today, again.
“Honey, I’m so sorry. I have to get back on set. I’ll text you later, okay?” Taeyong’s heart rips into pieces when he hears you sniffle.
“Okay, I love you,” you whisper.
“I love you so much, Y/N.” He hangs up and takes a couple of deep breathes, blinking back his own tears. He hates when you’re hurt, especially when it’s his fault. Taeyong lets out a puff of air, time to pull it together. The faster he perfects this scene and those to follow, the faster he can be on his way to you.
It’s the next day, and you wake up with swollen eyes from crying all night. You push back the blankets and force yourself to get up. Sitting at home and being sad all day won’t do you any good.
You know that it’s not Taeyong’s fault he keeps getting delayed, everything that’s happened has just been an unfortunate string of events. You’ll admit that going to see him had crossed your mind last night, but then you thought better of it.
Girlfriends at work can cause problems, you don’t want to distract him or be in the way of the crew. Plus, you two haven’t fully gone public with your relationship yet. His management team has been informed for a while now, and other NCT member’s know too.
But the millions of fans? That’s a daunting step that you two haven’t taken yet. You’re not necessarily hiding your relationship, but you’re not flaunting it out in front of the world either.
As you get dressed, you shoot a quick text to your friend Fia to confirm your plans for coffee and a trip to the bookstore. Running on little sleep, you're in serious need of caffeine, and you've been eagerly waiting for your favorite author’s new book to drop.
She replies almost instantly, saying she’s in and excited to see you. You skip your usual makeup routine and throw your hair into a loose ponytail before heading out the door.
Stepping outside onto the leaf-littered sidewalk, you can’t help but smile—it’s finally October, your favorite time of year. The air feels crisp, and everything has that warm, cozy vibe that you love, from now until the end of the year. It’s the perfect season for coffee dates, soft sweaters, and losing yourself in a good book.
Fia is saving you a window seat inside her favorite cafe, “Hi! It’s been too long, I got you an Iced Pumpkin Chai.” She cheerfully hands you the drink, “So, how have you been? I thought Taeyong would be coming with you?”
“Ahh, right,” you say, before taking your first sip. “He’s stuck in LA unfortunately, but I still wanted to catch up you.”
“Oh no, that’s a bummer,” she says, resting a hand on your arm. “How are you handling it?”
“Better than last time, but it’s still not fun.”
“I bet, well if you get lonely you’re always welcome to come stay with me. I don’t think James will mind.” James is Fia’s elderly cat, who takes his naps on the windowsill quite seriously. He’s to sleepy to care when Fia has visitors, as you’ve witnessed.
“I might take you up on that offer.”
Meeting up with Fia completely turned your day around. The two of you sipped coffee, chatted about your latest reads, and vented about the upcoming book-to-movie adaptations that are sure to fall short. Then, you made your way to the bookstore, continuing the conversation.
After each grabbing a few books, Fia convinces you to go thrift shopping with her next. By the time you finally make it home, your arms are loaded with the day’s haul.
You set down the bags so you can punch in your door key code, letting yourself in. The afternoon sunlight shines through your windows, illuminating the beautiful bouquet of marigolds on your table with a warm glow.
‘Hmm, that’s weird,’ you think to yourself as you set the bags down next to them, ‘Did I buy these earlier this week and forget about them? That would be just like me with everything that’s been on my mind.’
You think nothing of it and head to your bedroom, ready to change into comfier clothes for the rest of the night. Earlier, on the walk home you decided you’d spend the rest of your night by making your favorite soup for dinner, and then settling in for a Halloweentown movie marathon.
Just inside your bedroom door, you see a hoodie drapped over a suitcase. Your heart swells as your eyes drift over to the bed, where your boyfriend is peacefully sleeping. Not wanting to wake him, you change quietly and climb into bed and wrap yourself around him, you need to make sure this is real and not a figment of your imagination.
He rolls over and envelops you in his arms, kissing you softly. “Mmm, I was wondering when you’d get back.”
It’s really him.
“How are you here right now?” you ask, pulling back to scan his face.
“We finished filming late last night. Well technically this morning around 3am, and I got on the first available flight.”
“How long have you been here?” you ask next.
“Not long, just enough for me to change out of airport clothes and climb in bed,” he chuckles, pulling you back in for another sweet kiss. His lips gently press against yours and a hand reached around to the back of your head, letting down your hair so his fingers could run through the loose strands.
Taeyong tugs your hair with the lightest touch, but enough for you to let out a soft gasp. He uses the opportunity to push his tongue in past your parted lips.
Your hands rub up his solid chest, and you moan into his mouth as his kisses get a little more rough, a little more desperate.
“Did you like your flowers?” he asks when your lips are just barely touching.
“They’re beautiful,” you giggle, “I couldn’t figure out where they came from. I thought I might have gone crazy.”
“I saw them at the market just down the street and they reminded me of how radiant you always are.” His eyes gaze into yours and you can see that he really means that. Your heart melts.
“Ugh, I missed you,” you murmur before pulling him in for another long kiss, only separating when you need air.
He admires how swollen and wet your lips are while he hovers over you, looking down with desire-filled eyes.
“I missed you so much. I missed kissing you. I missed the way you taste. The way you mewl when I touch you right here,” he whispers, his hand slipping in between your legs, sliding them under your panties until his fingers find their way home.
Tossing your head back into the pillows, you squeeze your eyes shut as one finger, and then two, dip inside your slick heat.
“God, so wet already.” His fingers pump into you again and they curl at the right moment, lighting your body on fire. He keeps a leisurely pace, wanting to savor every second of this. He can take you from behind later. Right now he wants to prove how much he missed you. How much he loves you.
“Mmm, yes,” you moan, having longed for this so much over the past few months. He knows you so well, your body is so in tune with his. “Let me touch you too,” you breath as your fingers find his waistband. You stroke his growing length. Feeling the weight of him in your palm has always makes your mouth water for what is to come.
Rough Taeyong is devilishly hot, but soft and sensual Taeyong is a whole other breed of demon. He’ll worship you until you’re a dripping mess.
He watches intently as your eyes flutter shut, knowing very well that you’re close. He strategically presses his thumb up against your aching clit, rubbing in dangerous circles until he feels your walls start to tense. “Come for me, babe. Come all over my fingers like the good girl I know you are.”
His words are enough to send you over the edge. He swallows your loud moans while you clench around his fingers, coming beautifully undone and writhing underneath him.
Taeyong lets you ride out the waves, completely captivated by how ethereal you look in that moment. “You’re a goddess,” he breathes, bending down to meet your mouth once again. He pulls back, only to remove your clothing before removing his own.
“Love me, ‘Yongie,” you beg, needing to feel him inside you, just needing him.
“Always.” He moves a hand to cup your cheek while he slowly sinks into your wet slit. No matter how many times he’s with you, he’ll never get over how perfect you are. He bites back a moan when he hits your cervix. A perfect fucking fit, every single time.
He moves with a pace so slow it feels like divine torture. “I’ll never get tired of this,” he groans, pulling out until just his tip is held between your folds, then rolling his hips back inward.
“OH my god,” you moan, your nails digging into his bare back, “You feel so good.”
Taeyong nestles his head into your neck, bringing you closer and closer to the release that you crave.
“I’m close, baby, so close,” you whine. “Come in me,” you beg, pleading for him to release into you.
Taeyong hisses, his movements becoming more jerky. “I love you,” he groans as the coil snaps inside you. Waves of pleasure wash over your body, the sparks tingling through your veins. He follows your suit, tensing as your inner walls writhe around his length, milking him of his creamy seed.
He collapses next to you, whispering I love you’s into your ear as you both catch your breath.
“So,” you begin once you finally remember how to speak, “Wanna help me make dinner?”
“In a bit,” he sighs, pulling your limp body on top of his to kiss you lazily, “I’m not done loving you yet.”
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