#i know this is like middle of the night late but its also when I get the most engagement so I'm posting this now I guess

[coridallasmultipass]

Halloween costume hint:

(The stitch marker and the word that describes this colour-pattern of yarn [or fabric] are 2 more hints.)

[youweremyridehome]

once again in a murderous mood due to the menstrual agonies

[bluejaybytes]

@snowshinobi Hiiiii :3 I'm responding to your tags on a new post and not the original since the original was already somewhat lengthy, and I plan on being LONG and RAMBLY, but I have sooo many thoughts on what you said and I'm going to say them. Also my browser crashed TWICE (TWO TIMES. 2) when trying to write this post so I'm really fighting for my life out here to get my silly little OC posts done. Also it's under the cut because it's looooong as hell LMAO

Firstly, you're so nice to me forever <3 Secondly, I think you've basically hit the nail on the head. The majority of the issues Maggie has coming back from death and her 9 years gone are really tied almost exclusively to her close family, because she... never really had anyone else. While in-universe it's only 9 years, realistically the jump in technology and culture is around ~20-30 years (Maggie died in the 90s/early 2000s essentially, and wakes up in a just barely futuristic city), but... the most jarring thing to her in terms of what she missed out on is just. Flipphones are no longer popular. Other than her family, she's only close with one other person... who just so happens to be a ghost, and therefore both 1. Wouldn't change much over the timespan due to how long she's been a ghost and 2. Unlike her family, was aware that something happened, since she could see the ghost-of-a-ghost Maggie left behind (The ghosts name is Opal, she positions herself as a sort of "guardian angel" figure, though she's not actually, and serves as just another parental figure for Maggie while also getting after the ghosts that constantly harass her to pass on messages to the living). Maggie has no real relationships outside of her family, and while her relationships with her family are massively impacted by her unknowing death, other than that... the timeskip itself doesn't weigh on her because she had no one regardless. Her struggle to adjust to everything thats happened would've happened regardless of the timeskip for her, because she was such an isolated shut-in that it's the same whether it happened the next day, or nearly a full decade later

So another very interesting thing is that you've actually completely seen where I was going with everything, in spite of everything I said being very surface level and not actually delving into the plot at all. I completely skimmed over Jenna (She's very important to the plot, but she's by in large a regular person as opposed to Maggie's... everything), but for some additional context, Jenna has a horrendously shitty homelife, so her moving in with Maggie is both a gradual process (It goes from spending time there, to spending nights, to eventually just never going back home and moving in fully), and also serves as an escape for her. Part of that is also, so vitally, the food aspect. For some additional additional context, souls essentially serve as a persons lifeforce, practically every bodily function is improved by a soul that's stronger, though the "strength" of a soul is essentially entirely random, and not dependent on the individuals actions of any kind. Maggie had a generally weird soul before (Seeing ghosts inherently means she has to have something going on with her soul), but when she wakes up after her death, her soul is now even weirder, and part of that is that it essentially lets her get away with bad habits she absolutely should be seeing more consequences for. She barely eats, and when she does, it's basically exclusively crackers and whatever other safe foods she has around the house, because actually making food is a level of care and effort she just... doesn't give to herself in the slightest. Part of Jenna staying with her is that Jenna, without really discussing it, entirely takes up the mantle of caretaker of the apartment, with the biggest task being food prep, Jenna sees Maggie's unwillingness to take care of herself and silently steps up and starts making her actual meals so she's eating properly.

The problem is is that this also kinda... just straight up sucks? Jenna doesn't think much of it, it's something that needed to be done so she's doing it, she wants Maggie to be well fed even if she won't do it herself, and she's already been responsible for making all of her own meals for years prior anyways, so it's just another thing she does. Except that's shitty! Maggie's seen firsthand how terrible her homelife is, and it really weighs on her how even in her escape from that, Jenna's still being put in a position where she feels like she must care for her or else she just won't eat properly. So food is such a massively important thing to both of them, it's this symbol of love for both of them, it's love on the part of Jenna, for stepping in and taking care of Maggie when she can't do it herself, and it's love on the part of Maggie, for realizing how her own bad habits impact the people she cares about and wanting to lift that weight by taking care of herself better. It's also very vital for Maggie because she just... doesn't... have hobbies. Learning how to cook becomes really her only hobby and she puts all of her love and care into it, because for the first time in a long while she's actually passionate about something! ...Unfortunately she also is very very bad at it. She's inventing new dishes like "Burnt Salad" and "Please Help I Fucked Up Kraft Mac N Cheese" and still having to have Jenna come in and help her. But it's the thought that counts, and it'll only be a matter of time before she can make something vaguely edible.

And finally, the stuff about names! I didn't post it here, but while idly talking about her in a Discord server I'm in, I definitely think that had I made Maggie like even a few months later than I would've done she would've been nonbinary. As it stands right now though, I'm saying she's probably some form of genderweird but too busy trying not to die to think about it <3 Growing up knowing that ghosts are real and routinely being shut down by authority figures in her life about it has made her very aware of how bullshit a lot of things are and how the people who claim to be knowledgeable tend to not know what they're talking about (Beyond just the "people don't think ghosts are real", she's also got ghosts willing to tell her when people are lying because they've got nothing better to do than just gossip) , so if she spent even just a moment thinking about gender as a social construct she'd instantly recognize that and probably take up some form of genderweird label, but as it stands she's just too stressed with Being The Protagonist to think about that

Now, the thing with Margaret. I'm not even going to lie to you, I think you made a better connection to how a name connects with community in terms of the narrative themes than I did. The thing with Margaret denying the name "Maggie" existed for two reasons, the in-universe explanation is that, with the little scrap of soul Margaret has leftover from Maggie, it's essentially working overtime just to keep her vitals working, it can't dedicate time and energy to making her an individual with preferences and a personality, so part of that is that she doesn't respond to "Maggie" because ultimately, that is not her name. Her name is Margaret and she's not going to respond to "Maggie" because "Maggie" isn't her name. Of course, out of universe the reasoning is that I wanted an easy way to distinguish between Maggie as she is the protagonist, and the version of her that lived in the years she was gone, so different names makes the most sense.

I think your connection to how name relates to community genuinely works on a level I hadn't fully pieced together myself yet and I really love that because I think that absolutely works with everything. One of the main conflicts of the plot is how Maggie is entirely disconnected from her family thanks to the years she was gone, with Margaret having no priorities beyond "survive", she basically never spoke with her parents or brother for years. While her family tried to reach out to her repeatedly (Especially given that, while they're unaware the truth of what happened the night Maggie was murdered, they do know something happened, and they believe that whatever it was severely traumatized her, and that's where the sudden and drastic shift in personality came from), there's a point where they just... gave up. She wasn't trying to talk with them or contact them in the slightest, so around a year or two after Margaret moved out, her parents gave up on her. Her brother would still be there a bit, but he also didn't really... try... anymore.

When Maggie wakes up, she tries to call her parents... and they don't pick up. They'd grown resentful over the years, and now that Maggie wants to talk to them, they don't forgive her for the years of not speaking to them, and aren't interested in whatever she has to say after nearly a decade of trying to reconnect with her and being met with nothing. It's her insistence that she wants to be called Maggie that actually gets her brother to realize she's telling the truth and that something happened. She shows up at his door, already something that Margaret wouldn't have done, and that combined with her being visibly upset when he calls her Margaret and tells him that's not her and that she's Maggie, it signals to him that whatever's going on is real (...though he would've figured this out eventually, given that she also literally 17 again and not in her mid-20s, and has a giant glowing stab wound in her chest). I think it works absolutely perfectly as being a symbol of community, her disconnect from her community is what led to her being called Margaret, and her desperation to be returned to that community is when she's Maggie again. So uh. Congrats on getting the themes of my OCs better than I did <3

And uhhhh closing thoughts! I honestly did still skim over the majority of the plot (Literally never even mentioned Eli or what's going on with her stab wound </3), but I think you reeeeally hit the nail on the head with everything I'm kinda getting at with these OCs, which is... frankly wild given how little main plot I actually got at. Basically everything I mentioned in my original post was the setup, not the main plot. But waaaaugh thank you for being so niceys to me and also giving me another excuse to ramble endlessly <3

[four-rabbits-in-a-trenchcoat]

Obligatory and quite pertinent

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @themetalhiro

Hi, I’m Metal! I’m a freelance artist from good ol’ New Jersey. My favorite things to work with are a lot of bright colors, exaggerated poses, and candid scenarios. I try to farm sensible chuckles whenever I can, so I’m also big into comics. I love making them about my life, and the media I’m into, and one day I’d like to publish my own series!  Thank you to everyone who has gotten me this far!!

Check out Metal's interview below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I guess so! It’s funny, I don’t remember a single time in my life that I wasn’t drawing as a hobby… somewhere in middle school (a little late, I know.) I put the pieces together that animated movies were made by artists, and that it wasn’t just for fun, they were paid to do it. The moment I discovered people could be paid to make art, I decided I would do that, too. Now I’m here!

How has your style developed over the years?

I think the best way to answer this would be with an example! Over the last few years, I have made more of an effort to draw more intentionally, which sounds silly. Now, I put more thought into my poses and step out of my comfort zone with shape language and composition. I had a phase where I drew everyone with a huge, perfectly circular head and no nose. That definitely did not lend much variety...

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

Ack! I’m so terrible at history! I’d love to give a well-thought-out answer about fine artists of old, but I don't think we’d have much in common… Most artists I admire and who have driven me forward creatively are the people behind comics I’ve read. Andrew Hussie, Bryan Lee O’Malley, Eiichiro Oda... these guys have inspired me greatly and had a heavy influence in developing my art style and sense of humor. I’d love to ask them questions about their processes and upcoming projects. I think it would make for an entertaining night!

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Outside of pure aesthetics like searing bright colors, layered clothing, and loud noises…. the best and most inspiring moments in my life were those surrounded by friends and loved ones! I cherish the hell out of memories of hanging around in fun locations, trying weird food together, and impromptu midnight walks... so I try my best to capture that atmosphere and my own memories in my work when I can, even if I’m imposing fictional characters on top of them. That’s always the core of it.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

I would never permanently refuse a medium, but every time I pick up clay, I’m like a baby using its hands for the first time. Absolutely dreadful. If one day I could make and paint a figurine like the ones I admire in videos, that would be awesome... But for now, I’m not counting on it.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I’ve had an absolute blast drawing fanart over the years, and it’s certainly played a massive role in my growth as an artist. But my dream has always been to publish my own stories for y'all to enjoy! I have lots of worlds I want to introduce to you before I’m old and gray. I want to get faster, work harder, and get better at drawing interesting settings so I can get the wheels turning as soon as possible. I also want to stop avoiding the color blue like a coward.

What do you wish you knew when you first started out creating art that you know now?

Pay your taxes quarterly. Tablets will break at the exact moment you need them most, so have a spare. Wear your blue light glasses. You’re going to need to wear a brace on every joint on the right side of your body. It can be lonely sitting at your desk all day. The car on the side of the road that costs $1000 cash….. don’t trust it!!!

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@cranity—They use absolutely beautiful colors and weighty line work. Everything looks so sharp and clean! I wanna put it all up on my wall!

@vewn—Their ability to crank out quality short films and illustrations packed with detail is incredible. The off-kilter perspective they use really sells disorientation and catches your attention like nothing else.

@nelnal—They have absolutely banger character designs again and again, I can’t believe one person’s mind can come up with so many creative ideas!

@jinx88kc—They have a beautiful and recognizable style, and the way they incorporate animation into their illustrations sometimes is SO cool!

Thanks for stopping by, Metal! For more of Metal’s work, follow their Tumblr, @themetalhiro! If you haven't seen their Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here!

[nctsworld]

fever pitch

✩‌ mark x reader | pro baseball player!mark | fluff | smut | 8.4k

SUMMARY | your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.

WARNINGS | sexual content (near the end), arm riding (iykyk), breast/nipple play, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, piv sex, some drinking // this is 80% fluff-20% smut (with lots of corny writing); there's actually not too much baseball mentioned, but i did a little research on it; however, inaccuracies may be inevitable!

RATING | mature

AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sorry this is so late </3 i hope y'all enjoy! please also check out (and maybe send in some prompts to) @nctpromptmeme!

TAGLIST | @curieouscapt @dearlyminhyung @infnteen

Under the warm, summer sun, you beam as you walk towards your close friend, Chenle, and his dog, Daegal.

Shining back, he nods in hello to you with sunglasses pressed against his face. The teacup Bichon by his side wags its tail and pants happily at the sight of you, but is easily distracted the next second due to the park’s stimulating surroundings.

Dogs running amok, families having picnics, kids chasing each other in circles, friends playing baseball—

Specifically, a group of absolutely stunning men playing, as if a model catalogue exploded onto the field across from you.

But one in particular catches your eye.

Kind eyes shine behind wire-framed glasses, paired with a wide smile. His soft hair bounces with his light jog across the area.  

In his fitted white tee, he ends up in one spot and continuously throws the ball into his mitt. The game seems to be on hold as he speaks to a teammate. Absentmindedly, he rolls his arm sleeves up, revealing lean, yet defined muscles.

You silently gasp, struck by the beautiful sight, then gulp at the flexing of his biceps when he continues tossing the ball. His teammate must’ve told him a joke since the attractive figure throws his head back in joy.

And this is the exact moment you go into cardiac arrest because his laugh is the last straw of what you can handle from this man.  

Suddenly, the sound of your name shakes you out of your daze and reminds you to breathe.

“Okay, which one of these guys is the one who made you do a full stop in the middle of the grass?” Chenle asks, coming up beside you.

Daegal welcomes you with loving rubs against your leg. You squat to pet her, but your eyes are still honed in on the handsome stranger. The teams seems to be switching now when someone hands the bespectacled man a bat.

Your friend tracks your line of sight and nods, impressed. “Okay, he’s cute. Your distractedness will be excused this time.”

Scoffing, you shove his leg lightly and he giggles in return. After a few more moments of gawking, Chenle wonders, “Why do I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere?”

Standing up, you reply, “Probably comes here often with his friends when you walk Daegal?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I know him from somewhere else...”

Deciding you should probably drag your attention away and not be a blatant creep, you begin to walk away backwards, heading towards the ice cream cart before the line-up becomes as long as the field.

“Want your usual?”

“Yes, please!”

However, Chenle’s brightness fades instantly, jaw falling and eyes widening. You’re about to turn around to see what caused his change of expression when you hear a piercing—

“WATCH OUT!”

With a throbbing in your head, you wake up, squinting at the blinding rays. Coming into view, the cute guy from before replaces the sun’s spot, staring down at you with concern written all over his face.

“Oh, my God,” he pants. His hands shake in front of him. “I am so, so, so, so sorry.”

You roll your eyes a bit, trying to center your vision. Groaning, you ask, “What happened?”

“I, uh...” The individual’s mouth, slightly open with gritted teeth, pulls to one side as he runs a hand through his hair, “may have batted the ball and it coincidentally went straight for your head.”

Carefully, he helps lift your upper body off the ground. He asks if you’re okay, and you nod. But a grimace comes after, causing the stranger’s frown to deepen.

“Maybe we should get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”

All of a sudden, he inches closer and gingerly runs his thumb over the source of the throbbing. It’s likely all in your mind, but you swear the pain lessens from his touch. You tilt your head further, angling into his palm and embracing the comforting gesture.

“I’ll obviously cover all the bills—”

You cut him off with a slow lift of your hand. “No. I’m okay, I’m okay.”

You know you’ll definitely be more than okay if you can steal some more time with his magical touch.

Continuing, you say, “And that’s too much. If anything, you can buy some ice cream for me and my friend.”

Glancing around for Chenle, you find him, crouching like the stranger, but a few feet away. With a raised corner of his mouth, you deduce he’s deliberately giving space for you to interact with Mr. Handsome Baseball Hitter.

Said handsome baseball hitter chuckles. Hearing it tugs at your chest, even harder now that you can experience it up close.

“I’ll buy you a thousand ice creams to make it up to you.” He retreats his hand and you don't hold back pouting from the fleeting contact you already miss. “But seriously, if there’s any long-term side effects, please reach out to me and I’ll pay for any expenses that come your way.”

“How would I know how to reach out to you?”

He rambles the following matter-of-factly, “Well, you can find my manager’s information online, there’s the team’s Twitter account”—he looks up cutely in thought—“and I guess I’ve been kinda active on Instagram—”

You tilt your head in confusion. What is this guy going on about?

“Okay,” you interrupt, “but who are you?”

His face flips through a few emotions in the span of seconds, but they’re unreadable. Finally landing on a grin, he says, “I think what’s more important is: do you know who you are?”

“Yeah, I’m—” And you properly introduce yourself.

“Good,” he says, “so we’re not dealing with amnesia.”

Your cheeks rise at his humour. Saying your name warmly, he adds, “Nice to meet you, I’m Mark.”

He lends out a hand for you to shake and you do so. With help from his knees, he rises upward, aiding you to stand on your feet in the process.

“Mark,” you repeat his name aloud, locking eyes with him, “the baseball batter with the strength of a thousand suns.”

At the odd line, you catch yourself, thinking how the injury must’ve loosened your filter. He laughs at the lengthy label. “You should see me pitch.”

You shake your head. “Nu-uh, nope,” you playfully say. “I’m going to be safe and stay far, far away from that sexy arm.”

Both you and Mark’s eyebrows rise at the remark.

Yep, definitely a loose filter. Maybe you really do have a concussion.

While Mark breaks out into a pleased smile, you snap your eyes shut, wanting to run away. Or disappear, if at all possible. “Strong, strong. I meant strong...”

Avoiding eye contact, you hurry and make way to a now standing Chenle. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind, you grumble, “Chenle, let’s get going.”

Your friend smirks and whispers by your side, “You sure you don’t want to dig your grave even further?” You attempt to elbow him, but he’s too quick and avoids it.

“It was nice meeting you, Mark,” you call out over your shoulder as you walk away. “Thanks for looking out for... my head?”

Cringe falls over, making you pick up your pace. Time to officially stop talking.

Chenle turns away, his body shaking as he releases a snicker into his fist.

“Again, I’m really, really sorry!” Mark apologizes in a shout. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and also recognize his voice as the one who warned you to watch out before the incident occurred. “If you need to find me, I’ll be here over the next couple of weekends!”

When you’re far away enough from the scene of the crime, you smack Chenle in the arm. In response, Daegal chirps a bark at you. “You just had to watch me make a complete fool out of myself back there.”

He lovingly places an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. “I mean, Daegal’s great and all, but if anyone has any entertainment value out of the three of us here, it’s going to be you.”

You groan at his harsh, yet true, words.

“Your head good though?”

You note how the throbbing is barely there anymore. Touching the spot, you wince. At most, there’s likely just a bruise. “Yeah, it’s good.”

In a hopeful tone, Chenle sing-songs, “Think you wanna come to the park again with me next weekend?”

Reflecting on what Mark said, you ponder if he really meant it about coming to find him if anything was wrong. Even though everything would likely be fine, you’d love to see him again. 

But how could you face him after the disaster of your mouth running free? You shake your head in defeat.

On Monday night, the next evening, your phone goes off right as you enter your apartment building. You drag your phone out, eyebrows furrowing at the notification that Chenle’s calling you. When was the last time he’s called you?

Actually, you’re fairly sure he’s never called you. Ever. You pick it up without hesitation. 

“Hey, everything okay?”

“Find a TV playing the baseball game,” Chenle pants. “Right now.”

Out of all the things he could call you for, this is what he’s asking you to do? He’s not even into baseball; basketball is the sport he adores to death. “What?”

“Do it,” he orders. “Now!”

“Okay, okay.”

Thankful you haven’t gone up to your apartment yet, you stride over to the little in-house gym in your building near the front entrance. You haven’t used it much since you moved in, but you recall that the TVs usually play either sports or news.

And you remember right, except at the moment, the baseball game is the only event plastered on the screens. Most people in the room are fixated on the game while they’re doing their set or on their respective cardio machine.

“Okay...” you trail in uncertainty. A pitcher from your city’s team throws the ball and the batter misses. The camera cuts to the batter from the opposing team, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why must I need to watch the baseball game so ba—”

The camera’s now on Mark’s face.

The same Mark from the neighbourhood park yesterday, sans the glasses, and in proper baseball gear.

He’s on live, national television, playing baseball in front of the crowd of tens of thousands of people.  

From a side angle, all eyes are on him as he tips his cap forward. His eyes mold into slits of concentration, his sharp jaw tightening after a lick of his lips. Sure, he’s different from yesterday’s care-free self, but you’d be lying if you said this serious side of him didn’t turn you on either.

Again, the camera cuts away, to the wide shot from behind him. Besides his great body (especially his gorgeous backside in those snug pants), you revel in the back of his white and dark green trimmed jersey, indicating his last name and his assigned number: Lee. 02.

He winds up for the pitch, raising his leg, and the ball is gone within a blink of an eye, landing directly into the catcher’s glove. The number 98 comes up near a rectangle on-screen, signifying the speed of his throw.

Mark wasn’t lying about his skills; he’s the pitcher with the strength of a thousand suns.

All the screens are filled with Player #02’s glimmer of a smirk, before he quickly stashes it away behind his cap. The camera lingers on him while the commentators in the background talk.

“A great put-out pitch for Lee,” one says. “His fastballs this season have been absolutely remarkable. Another great one from him.”

Cameras switch to another shot of Mark catching the ball, resetting once more for the next batter.

Another commentator supplements, “Aside from the slight hiccup earlier this season, he’s definitely on-track in making his mark on his debut in the league. A rookie ace indeed. It’s no wonder they’ve been calling him ‘The Tiger!’”

Understanding dawns upon you as to why he stated how easy it would be to contact him (and to be able to pay for any potential hospital bills). The city’s new star pitcher—how could you not know him?

“I knew he looked familiar!” Chenle pipes up from the other end, just as Mark’s nice figure takes up the screen once more. Awe and shock consume your voice, and you’re unable to create a coherent reply.

But you don’t need to, not when you have Chenle to talk your ear off about the game, but mostly Mark, for the rest of the night.

The week passes by, with you casually going through Mark’s Instagram (which, as he mentioned, he only occasionally posts on) and watching a few more of Mark’s games with Chenle in tow. 

You fawn together over his plays (and his ass) and, despite not knowing much about the game, he must be having a great week from the commentators’ constant praises and the team’s overall wins.

Once Sunday finally arrives though, a wave of nervous anticipation rolls over you.

Because for you, it’s game time.

Sure, you may not have initially wanted to, but now that you know who Mark is, what is there to lose if you step up to the plate and see him again?

The scene of the park is quite similar to last week’s, except for the large presence of people staring at the men, many you recognize from the city’s team from all the games you’ve watched this week, playing baseball on the field. You wonder if you were too caught up with Mark last week because you didn’t notice how everyone else was this enraptured too.

As you stroll closer to the grassy area with Chenle and Daegal hovering behind, the players coincidentally take a breather. Some parents quickly take advantage of the break to bring their children up to receive autographs.

This is perfect timing for you too.

However, you stop in place, debating if this was a good idea to return. You’re surely going to make a fool out of yourself again (this time with no injury to blame) and Chenle, despite his promise of not interfering, will totally budge in and—

And it’s too late to backpedal, because Mark, although distracted by the little cluster of people surrounding him, lifts his head momentarily and his gaze lands directly on you.

Air seizes in your lungs when he flashes you a grin that could compete with the sun. He gives a small nod and wave. Like a star struck fangirl, you glance around to ensure he’s not gifting that nod and wave to anyone else. 

But no, you’re not mistaken—his eyes are only on you.

Saying his thanks to his assumed fans, he jogs his way over to you, attired today in a fitted grey-mixed tee, ripped denim jeans, and thicker framed glasses compared to last time.

“Hey,” Mark says, still grinning beautifully. “How’s your head feeling?”

His smile is incredibly infectious. It’s a challenge not to do the same when you’re in the presence of this man. “Better. Had some bruising, but it’s all gone now.”

He nods in response, mumbling a “Good, good” under his breath. With his face turned away, he swipes some hair behind his ear and seems to be preparing himself to say something. But, you will yourself to address the elephant in the room first.

“So, why didn’t you tell me that you were in the major leagues?”

At the unexpected question, Mark darts his head up and draws it back in surprise, his lips pouting adorably. Your heart bursts.

Contrasting his cuteness, you notice the hint of stubble around his mouth. First the pout, now this. You’re captivated by it more than you should be.

He chuckles and lifts a shoulder. “Well, you didn’t ask.”

“I did,” you laugh. “I asked who you were!”

After looking up in thought for a moment, he concedes. “Okay, maybe you did.”

You two laugh in unison, and even when the moment is over, both of you stare into each other's eyes. Time’s filled with comfortable silence and equally comfortable smiles. 

Mark breaks the silence, asking, “Are you still wanting to stay safe and far away from my sexy arm?”

“Oh, my God...” you groan, hating to hear the same words that left your mouth from last week.

“No,” he says through another burst of laughter, “it’s a genuine question.”

“I meant to say strong!” you argue petulantly. “I was just a little out of it from the hit, no thanks to you.”

“I know, I know,” he giggles. “I’m genuinely wondering though, cause...” Mark pauses and begins to fidget, this time rubbing the nape of his neck. 

You tilt your head, intrigued. “Cause what?”

“Cause, I was, uh, wondering,” he says, eyes averting yours. “Since I owe you for your head injury—”

“You don’t owe me anything—”

“And I know it’s a long shot cause you’re absolutely gorgeous and you’re probably taken—”

This time, you draw your head back in surprise over the compliment and the grand assumption that you’re off the market. 

“—but did you wanna go out with me sometime?” His hand moves through his hair before he shyly looks at you again. “Maybe?”

Before you can even process what's happening you hear a "Yes!" behind you, causing you to jolt upright. “Yes, she will absolutely go on a date with you!”

“Chenle!” you gasp, appalled but not surprised, in the direction of your close friend as he nears your side. You face Mark again and gesture in the direction of the incoming intruder. “Don’t mind him.”

As per his charming self, your friend holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m Chenle. Your newest number one fan. Great plays this week, by the way.”

“Mark.” He takes the hand to shake, giving him a small smile. “And thanks.”

Mark’s eyes wander down and notices the dog wagging its tail excitedly. His face lights up. “Aw, who’s this cute little guy?”

“Daegal,” Chenle answers. “She’s my little handful, besides this one.” he says, jerking his head in your direction. Mark's too focused on Daegal to see you slapping her owner in the arm. 

Squatting down, he pets the lively dog. You follow suit and crouch down too, watching Daegal gift Mark tons of licks and enthusiastically rubs herself against his hands and arms. She’s never this delighted with strangers usually. 

“What do you think, Daegal?” Mark asks, holding eye contact with her as if she could reply, then he glances over at you. “Do you think your friend should go out with me?”

Immediately, she barks happily, causing all three of you to laugh. 

“Good girl,” Chenle whispers from above.

Although you pucker your lips playfully at Daegal’s betrayal, you reach out to pet her fondly along with Mark. 

“But how will you guarantee my safety from your strong arm?” Your stare lingers on them. Not that he has to know, but you had to make a conscious effort to not say sexy once more.

“I promise I won’t be tossing any more of my balls in your direction,” Mark casually says.

After a pause, your eyebrows raise and his eyes widen.

“Wait, I mean—shit...” he hisses, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Your lips twitch, suppressing a laugh and finding him adorable.

“I know what you mean,” you quickly say, relieving him of his embarrassment.

He shyly glances up at you and you share a comforting look. Suddenly, someone from the field hollers his name. With a small frown, he begins to walk in reverse away from you.

“I probably should get back, but now that you know how to get in touch, message me on Instagram and we can figure out a time that works for our date?”

“Yes, definitely!”

Incredulously, you look up at Chenle for answering on your behalf.

“For sure, Mark,” you say. “Have a great game.” With the way he plays, you know he will.

Chenle and you wave your good-byes to him and watch him retreat to his friends.

“You do know that I'm the one he asked out, right?” you ask as the three of you begin to walk towards to the park's popular ice cream cart, except you're more vigilant this time.

Your friend grabs out cash, ready to pay for your order. Or at least you hope so, for all the trouble he caused.

“Yes, and that's why I will live vicariously through you!”

After messaging him over the last week (with Chenle hovering over your shoulder and backseat driving many of the messages), Thursday really couldn't come fast enough for your date with Mark.

As you step out of your apartment complex, your jaw drops and an impressed smile fills your face.

In a green bomber, black tee, and skinny jeans, Mark coolly pulls up on a red Ducati motorbike. You recall seeing a post or two on his Instagram with it, but it takes you by surprise to see it in-person.

He takes off his helmet and runs fingers through his hair, attempting to ruffle out the messiness. You're a little envious of how good he looks, even with messy hair.

Your date takes in your outfit—an off-the-shoulder floral dress that teeters the lines of being cute and sexy simultaneously—and beams.

“Wow,” he says, mouth agape. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you say, then make an over-the-top attempt to check him out. “You don't look so bad yourself.”

After a moment of shared smiles, he tilts his head towards his mode of transportation. “Hope this isn't too daunting.”

You shake your head. “Not at all.”

As Mark helps you with your helmet, now that you're up-close, you notice he's clean-shaven, unlike the other times you've seen him, and you presume he opted for contacts for tonight.

You also can't help but relish in the proximity of his hands near your face, flashing previously to the first time you met only a couple of weeks ago.

Once he's done, you ready yourself for the ride by wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, holding onto him snugly.

He twists around with his visor open.

“Ready?”

You respond with a squeeze around his waist and a nod, so he closes his visor and you're off through the nightscape of the city.

Everything passes by in a blur, but when there are the occasional moments when he slows down or stops at the red lights, you drink in how beautiful your city is.

On the other hand, you're dying to know what Mark planned for tonight. He gave you a vague idea—dinner, a small post-dinner activity (no balls involved, Mark promised), and dessert—but that's all.

In a nicer part of the city, he stops and parks in front of a bumbling Italian restaurant.

Once inside, Mark gives his name to the greeter, stating how he has a reservation, and a sweet host immediately leads you to your table. As you walk through the restaurant, you admire its warm atmosphere with dim lights and candles spread everywhere, along with the many other couples eating their dinner.

The host stops in front of a secluded semi-circular plush booth. You shimmy in, and Mark follows. Both of you sit comfortably close near the middle of the booth.

Despite how much you have been talking through DMs over the last week, as first dates often go, conversation is awkward at first.

However, as dinner progresses and the extravagant wine (Mark insisted, “Only the best for my date, please.”) makes its way through your systems, it gets easier.

You learn more about his family, his team, and his love for reading. For him, he learns about your friends, your job vs. dreams constant conflict, and your love for music.

The easiness also goes beyond words. Underneath the table, your legs brush up against one another's. You throw your head back in laughter, and you bravely touch his forearm in response. Mark even leans in close to your body, sometimes the edge of your shoulders gently pressing into the other.

By the end of dinner, being the gentleman he is, Mark doesn't even let you glance at the check and pays it all without hesitation. Then, you're outside and on his motorbike again, off to the mysterious post-dinner activity.

When he reaches a particular end of town where there isn't much around except one place, you have an inkling where you're about to go.

Once you're there and parked, your hunch is answered correctly, but you realize something.

“Isn't the aquarium closed at this hour?”

He shrugs nonchalantly and begins to usher you forward with a hand lingering at your lower back. Whispering into your ear, he says, “I may have booked it privately for tonight.”

As you walk through, Mark and you stick to each other's side, shoulder to shoulder, and switch between revealing more about yourselves while reading and conversing about the informational signs on the aquatic creatures.

Both of you stop in front of the main showcase of the aquarium: the large tank that houses two beluga whales.

Mark leans in a bit closer to the tank, catches sight of one of them in a corner, and points it out to you. As he straightens, you feel the back of your hand brush up against his.

“You’re quite the romantic,” you state while glancing at the tank, almost as low as a whisper. Even with nobody around, there's something so serene about the aquarium that makes you want to be respectfully quiet. "Does everyone get this first-date, first-class experience from you?”

“Only the girls who get hit on the head by me,” he teases in a whisper, making you softly chuckle.

After a moment passes as you watch the tank, hoping and waiting for the beluga whales to move to where you're standing, Mark asks, “Would it be surprising to say I don’t go on dates as often as you think?”

Your eyes dart toward him, but you quickly keep your gaze fixated back on the tank. You nod. “A little.”

He hums, followed by a lengthy sigh. You can sense a shift in him. You hear how it's laced with sadness, maybe even a little regret.

“I’ve been working so hard to get to this point and of course being drafted’s been so worth it, but it also meant that I had to sacrifice some things along the way. But now that I’m finally here”—you feel his gaze now directed on you—“I definitely can rearrange my time for other things.”

Your breathing slows as you turn to face him.

Courageously, Mark intertwines his hand with yours and his free one raises, caressing the bare skin of your upper arm. The contact makes you gasp and hold your breath.

He drags himself forward, as do you, and his hand is about to cup your face...

Until the two belugas are now your front-row audience, glancing at you as if they were smiling.

You both chuckle softly and give them a wave, not wanting to lose this rare chance of seeing them this close.

And although the special moment has passed, you two finish off the marine life tour with your hand in his.

Once outside, Mark leads you somewhere nearby. After about ten minutes of walking, you're standing on a large cliff with a scenic view of the city. You've never seen the city from this height before, and all its twinkling lights and the starry sky beckon you.

An ice cream truck is also coincidentally there, and you assume Mark booked it for your date tonight.

You two grab your waffle cone orders and sit down on a wooden bench that overlooks the view.

“So,” you say, licking the cone on its side to avoid the ice cream from dripping down your hand, “does this go towards the debt of you hitting my head?”

“Of course,” he nods with his signature smile, doing the same as you and trying to avoid his sweet treat from melting. “It'll be one ice cream out of the many future thousands.”

The implication that there’ll be more than just this date hangs in the night air, almost as if it's a promise, and you really hope it'll be true.

At the very least, it feels true as you peer over your city, leaning your head onto Mark's shoulder while he casually drapes an arm around you.

Getting off the motorcycle, Mark walks you to the front door of your place and you don't even think twice about asking if he wants to come in. He says yes a little too enthusiastically, making you giggle, but it confirms that neither of you want the night to come to an end just yet.

Mark hangs his jacket as you grab beers from the fridge. Both of you make talk for some time on your couch, but the energy in the room is buzzing, especially since the almost-kiss.

The second you gravitate towards Mark, he rushes to wrap an arm around your waist and his free hand cups your face, dragging you in for the first kiss that's been itching to happen.

His lips are dangerously soft, addictive really. You swear he tastes like cherry (could be from the food earlier or maybe a lip balm flavour, you wonder).

It's a slow, yet deep, start. In the beginning, the kissing is with intent, wanting to know what each other tastes like. Naturally, the curiosity evolves into exploration, with Mark cautiously dipping his tongue into your mouth. You react with zeal, swiping your tongue against his and even experiment sucking on it. He shudders at the sensation.

Mark holds you close throughout, but your bodies move into a new position, letting you sink comfortably into your couch beneath him.

Here, passion rises. He grips your waist, whilst his body presses into yours, and he begins to trail down your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Although it's already off your shoulders, he drags a sleeve of your dress further down, hungry to kiss as much of your bare skin as he possibly can.

Your fingers tangle in his hair and you arch into him, embracing his clear desire against you. You're falling and falling and falling, becoming more drunk with every touch and kiss from Mark. Ever since the first day you met, you couldn't help but yearn for his touch. Now, having a taste of him like this, you're desperate to experience more.

Although you're underneath him, you decide to take hold of the kissing. When he takes a breather for an instant, you steal the chance and fervently kiss along his jaw and rugged neck. Mark moans, gripping your waist harder, and grinds into you, his hardness dying to be free.

Shockingly, he suddenly tears away, sitting up and panting. Confused, you mirror him.

“Should we stop?” he asks. “Like, I know I might be being presumptuous, but I don’t wanna ruin our potential next date if we rush too soon?”

It melts your heart that he retracted because he's concerned over your potential future. You delicately rearrange some of his loose hair stuck to his forehead. “If you want to stop, we can.”

He pouts, reminding you of him previously at the park, followed by a cute whimper.

“But I don’t want to stop...” he laugh-smiles, leaning into you, about to drive his mouth into yours again.

“Neither do I.”

And with that, Mark makes the split-second decision to continue this good thing and not look back. Once again, he's leaving love upon your shoulders, at a measured pace currently, and he carefully lowers your dress. Drooping off your shoulders, you let it drop and bunch around your stomach.

Surprise is written on his face, as you didn't wear a bra underneath your dress, but the surprise quickly dissipates into enthrallment over the beautiful sight.

He lowers himself, mouth traversing across your chest while his free hand gently massages one of your breasts. You succumb to the rising pleasure, curving into him again.

When he arrives at one tip of yours, he looks up and asks, his voice low and gravelly, “Can I...?”

You whimper-nod, already on the verge of begging him to take the next step.

It kills you that he teases first, merely pecking the surrounding area and your tip; his mouth leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your patience grows thin.

“Mark, please, just—”

Air is depleted as his tongue swipes against your nipple in a broad stroke. He then wraps his mouth around it, sucking firmly. The other hand that was kneading your other breast turns to focus on your nipple, pinching it between his index finger and thumb.

The more he sucks, the more you hear the wet puckering of his lips, the more it makes you clench tighter. Bliss begins to boil in your abdomen when he flicks his tongue and mimics the same on your other tit with the pad of his thumb.

Your breathing grows heavier, and you sense you're close, but Mark abruptly stops. You're about to speak up, believing he'd be the type to finish you off if you ask, until you realize he's kneeling on the floor in front of you and stripping off his t-shirt.

With your help, Mark eases your dress to the floor and places it safely on the coffee table. Focusing on you, his gaze is dripping of lust—so carnal, so different than his regular self.

As Mark advances to your heat, your palms graze over his defined shoulders and back. He parts your legs further with his hands wrapped around your inner thigh.

“Wearing panties?” he inquires, his finger pulling the fabric a bit to the side.

“Huh?”

“No bra, but panties?” he smirks, making you realize the joke.

You roll your eyes and relax momentarily, leaning your head back. “Are you into that? No panties underneath?”

“Could be hot,” he shrugs, tugging your underwear to your calves and tossing them off to the side.

“Maybe one date I can do th-ah—”

Without warning, he dives in, one his hands now grasping you by your lower back, and you lurch forward to get a good view of his head between your legs. You've got a grip on his shoulder, the other tugging at his hair.

His tongue laps at your folds with agility, figures out what you like or don't like. There isn't much you don't like, Mark deduces. Languid licks. Penetrating patterns. Fast flicks.

You respond eagerly to them all with harsh tugs to his hair, notably when he spreads your folds to devour you entirely. The hair pulling hurts a bit, but he doesn't mention anything; he likes it a little rough.

Despite the positive reactions, he can tell you've been at a simmer with his moves, not quite reaching close to a high. He withdraws his mouth, and, through your hazy vision, you catch sight of his honeyed lips.

But your eyes blow wide open and an acute moan dispels as your lover of the night fills you with his fingers, alongside his licking of your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

Following a few more minutes of scissoring and a few sucks to your bundle of nerves, he asks, breathing into your inner thigh, “Does this feel good, gorgeous?”

Your lip is drawn between your teeth, digging so hard from the pleasure you wonder if it'll bleed soon. “Mm-hmm.”

“Good,” he says, kissing your thigh tenderly, “'cause I'm gonna need you to remember how good tonight is so you'll keep coming back for more.”

Not gonna be a problem, you think, but all you could muster is senseless panting.

“You close?”

You can barely release a whimper out to respond, and Mark orders you to tell him when you're near.

It doesn't take long to get there. The warmth in your abdomen encapsulates your body and your hips rut upward frantically, desiring your climax to take authority.

“Mark, Mark, Mark. Fuck, I'm close, I'm—”

Immediately, he stands up, fingers still inside you and somehow impaling you further and faster while his thumb lazily strokes at your clit when possible, and his ardent kiss is the needed catalyst to take you over the brink. Simultaneously, the kiss swallows your bountiful whines.

When you finally come down from your high, you kiss him deeply and feel him through his jeans against you.

“Let's take this to the bedroom, I need to grab—”

“Should I run to the pharmacy to—?”

In tandem, you chuckle over how in sync you are, and tip your perspired foreheads against the other.

Holding his hand, you lead him to your bedroom. You turn on your bedside lamp and gesture to the tissues, so he can clean his hands. You then bound to your bedroom bathroom and fumble around to find your condom packs somewhere in a drawer.

Upon your return, you're graced with the sight of Mark sitting naked on the edge of your bed, stroking himself. You almost salivate.

God, he's bigger than you expected, and that's only one part of his magnificent body. You didn't have the opportunity before to admire his muscular abs, but you take every chance to do so now. The way his arm flexes with each stroke. And those thighs...

“Sorry,” he murmurs and shyly shrinks a bit, in contrast to his lewd action, “hope it's okay that I took my pants off already.”

He really is quite endearing. Maybe even a little perfect.

“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for, Mark.”

You place the condoms onto your bedside table, but are so absorbed with Mark's cock and existence. Entranced, it's your turn to drop to your knees.

Fingers wrap around his cock, and Mark's groans rise. You delve in your enthrallment for a bit, squeezing and stroking to your heart's content until you finally decide to ease him into your mouth.

Your tongue works wonders, tasting the underside of his length with every bob of your head. Meanwhile, his hands lazily thread through your hair and he watches attentively.

More saliva develops and drips, especially when you relax your mouth to let him hit the back of your throat. Obscene slurps accompany his delicate moans, both of which permeate the room in melodious unity.

As his threading develops into tight pulls of your hair, you detract yourself to avoid the night ending right then and there.

Since he's still sitting on the side of the bed, you sit onto his lap with a plan to abate and elongate the tension. You're back to kissing him, allowing both parties' hands to roam each other.

“I love your arms,” you mumble into his mouth as you reach for them.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “I know you love my sexy arms.” You punch him teasingly.

But an idea flickers in your head. You halt your actions.

“This might be weird to ask, but could I...” you trail off, picking at your hands, realizing maybe you shouldn't finish your question.

“Hey,” he whispers, holding your chin in his hand. “You can ask me anything, beautiful.”

You hesitate with closed eyes.

“Could I... ride your arm?”

Peeking a nervous eye open, an evidently puzzled Mark stares back at you.

“I—What? Sure?” His voice raises in octaves.

Embarrassed, you try to wave it off. “Never mind that I asked.”

“No, hey,” he says, his palm caressing the side of your face and angling it towards him. “I'm flattered and obviously, nobody has ever asked to ride my arm before. But if you want to give it a go, by all means, I'm open to it.”

“Yeah?”

Mark gives you the sweetest smile and a reassuring nod. “Yeah.”

Since you suggested it, you lead him to lay on the bed, more in the centre so there'd be enough room for you to sit. He watches you gingerly lift his hand near head-level, as if he's almost flexing to show-off or about to lay his head on his palm.

Carefully, you sit onto his left arm, facing the direction of his body. At the contact, you shudder. “Is this okay?”

He agrees, enticed by your ass near his face and the general exquisiteness of your being. “You can put more weight on it, it's okay.”

You comply, relishing in the pressure of his arm against you. After becoming more comfortable and placing most of your weight to an arm on the bed, you slowly rub yourself upon his arm.

Mark's fascinated by this foreign act, eyes watching your every move. With his free hand, he touches himself.

His favourite part about you riding his arm? The look on your face—fluttering eyes paired with your lip biting—and the fact that you find him this attractive, that using him this way can simply get you off.

“This okay still?” you breathe.

“Fuck yeah.” He squeezes himself harder. He knows the answer to the next question, but he wants to hear it from you directly. “Does it feel good for you?”

You assent with a sharp moan. Without notice, you lick your palm with the intent of reaching over to grab his cock. At first, he's confused when he notices your hand, but he happily lets you handle him.

“Oh, God,” Mark pants.

You fasten your pace on his arm, grinding greedily against him. As you do so, your arm attempts to match the pace for his desire.

“Fuck,” Mark twists his head to look at your hips, tries to focus on how wet you are amidst his own pleasure, “you really do love my arms...”

It's a sweet dream for you—no, sweeter than any dream or fantasy could ever be. This is real, this spectacular sensation spreading all over and it's all thanks to his arm. Your body winds up, tighter and tighter, and you eventually break, chasing your second orgasm of the night.

Cleaning your mess up, you wipe his arm fast, keen on what's about to happen next. You then draw him into your mouth a bit to get him up again before rolling the condom onto him.

Once the rubber is on, you tease him from above, sliding the tip of his cock against your pulsing centre.

Mark may be a gentleman, but a gentleman can only be patient for so long. He seizes his possession and you gasp as he holds you by your hip, forcing you to sit down onto him.

The feeling is heavenly, stretching you sweetly. You bounce on his cock, and the sounds from you two are louder than from before. There's a small voice inside your head, worried about a noise complaint from your neighbours, but future you could deal with that.

Right now, it's all about Mark. He plays with your breasts with every move you make, while you fondle his abs and arms. Both of you try your best to look at one another through the pleasure, but it's difficult when you're floating higher and higher.

He then clasps your lower back and skillfully rises upward with the help of his strong abs. This position provides an angle for him to do all the work to thrust into you, as well as continuing to rub your breasts and even suck on them again.

At this point, you're in absolute state of frenzy, drowning in all the stimulation. Mark's underwater, right there with you too.

He pulls away in the midst of licking your nipple, his eyes going round. Nevertheless, you lean into him, your breasts pressed into his face and your mouth hangs.

Together, you cry each other's names and swear in endless spirals and the bliss finally reaches its peak for the evening.

As Mark lays next to you in your bed, observing your peaceful sleeping state, he's obviously amazed by tonight's events, but he’s also unsure what’s in-store for either of you.

There are so many factors at play with his career, you're both essentially still strangers, the future is unknown...

And yet, despite these worries, the feeling blooming in his chest is more than a blossoming liking. It’s akin to the moment he steps up to plate, either ready to bat or pitch. Nervousness, determination, and...

It’s too early to call it, but when he’s around you, he swears it feels a lot like his love for the game.

He shakes his head, not wanting to jump into the deep end this fast. He doesn't want to ruin this good thing prematurely.

Nevertheless, he places one last kiss atop your forehead before he sleeps, praying you'll be a new constant in his life, at least in the near future.

EPILOGUE — FOUR MONTHS LATER

Today is game four of the World Series and your city has won the previous three. If they continue their streak, tonight will be the night where Mark and his teammates take home the championship.

Hours prior to the big game, the teams are having batting practice beforehand to warm-up.

With your chin perched in your palm, you watch Mark closely—of course, safely from a distance and from behind him—and nod with every ball he hits well at the mound. You're seated in the lower area of the stadium among many of the other team members' families and friends, including a gleeful Chenle.

“Stop checking out your boyfriend's ass,” he orders, nudging you with his shoulder as he tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

“You stop checking out my boyfriend's ass,” you retort, nudging him back.

The two of you continue your little nudging contest until he says, “So when you guys get married—”

“Oh, my God, Chenle...”

“I'm just saying, we all know you two are going to have beautiful little baseball player babies! Anyway, as I was saying, when you guys get married, can Daegal be the ringbearer somehow? She's pretty much the reason why you guys got together in the first place.”

You shake your head, eyes still on your love. “Chenle, we'll have that conversation when and if we get there.”

“When we'll get there,” he states confidently, and you laugh, dismissing him.

Sure, it may have been a fresh relationship only four months in, but you couldn't deny that maybe the idea of marriage wiggled its way through your mind here and there. Despite your thoughts, it wasn't at the forefront; you were happy in love with Mark now, here in the present.

Player #02 hands his bat over to another player and jogs towards you. It makes you wonder why he hasn't done an advertisement with slo-mo running and wind blowing through his hair yet.

“How’d I do?” Mark asks, leaning onto the railing next to you. Chenle gives him two thumbs up with a large grin.

“Awesome," you agree. "Did you think about hitting my head with each ball?”

Mark chuckles and juts his tongue to a side of his mouth. “You’re never going to let me live that down, huh?”

“Never,” you quip, scrunching your nose. You reach out for him and hold the tips of his fingers in yours. “You nervous?”

“Yeah,” he exhales, closing his eyes. “More than usual.”

Your fingers progress forward and your thumbs rub the back of his hands lovingly. “You’ll do amazing, like always.”

“You’re too sweet, babe. But this might be the game and I might—”

You cut him off by cupping his cheek in your palms.

“And you are the Mark ‘The Tiger’ Lee”—you tenderly swipe some of his hair away from his face—“top contender for both the Rookie of the Year and CY Young Award. So no matter what happens, you will come out on top.”

In awe and in a little disbelief with how well-put that was, he stares at you with starry, doe-like eyes. He's so grateful to have met you, to have someone so supportive of him in his life.

After a few moments, he concedes. “I had a pretty great run this season, haven’t I?”

You admire how humble your boyfriend always is. It's one of his greatest traits.

“And you have me,” you add jokingly.

He tilts his head side to side. “I guess there’s that too...”

The two of you share a kiss, innocent at first, until he deepens it and you wrap your arms around his neck, which generates some of his teammates to holler and whistle. Likewise, you hear Chenle screech, "Save it for after the win!" and you swear you feel some popcorn being thrown at your back.

Finally, until you're content, you peel away and press your forehead against his.

“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” you whisper.

Mark nods, a little more confident than before. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“So much,” he punctuates it with a loving squeeze to your shoulder.

You don't think you'll see him before the game starts, so you grant him one last good luck kiss.

You wouldn't know it that night, but by the end of the season, Mark would indeed take home the Rookie of the Year and the CY Young Award, being the youngest recipient of both awards.

That evening though, your city's team works in unbelievable harmony (or maybe the opposing team is having its worst day) because the game is a perfect one. Mark shuts out the other team, not allowing them to have any runs whatsoever...

Thus, sealing his first title of being a World Series champion.

But certainly not without his beloved running out into the field to give him a congratulatory hug and kiss among the sea of people.

And at the end of that night in the confines of your bedroom (after earth-shattering celebratory sex), you would find out that Chenle was right (and later, that he was in on it) when Mark, merely in his boxers, gets on one knee with a little opened box in front of you.

He's visibly shaking, and not because he's half-naked. You've never seen him so unnerved. Your love spills the following in almost one breath:

“I know we just started dating, and we can be engaged for, like, ten years or whatever. I just know that, deep down, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I may have felt this way since our first date. I really, really, really hope you feel the same, even if just a little bit."

Mark takes a deep breath, trying to regain composure for the important question he exhales.

Tears rise in your eyes as an ocean of feelings hit you, but within that ocean, no doubts rise to the surface whatsoever.

All you think about is how you will be forever grateful for the baseball that hit your head on that life-changing day.

You immediately say yes.

[softspiderling]

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It’s late when Rafe gets home.

He only wanted to meet Topper for a drink at the country club but one turned into three and before he knew it, it was 2 am.

The house is sitting in darkness when he enters, and he tries to be quiet as to not wake you up - hell hath no fury like you woken up in the middle of the night for no reason. Rafe doesn’t even dare to turn the light on the bedroom on, letting the light in the hallway shine into the room. He can see you buried under the blankets with quiet snores, and he tiptoes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him before turning the light on.

The sight that greets him nearly sends him into cardiac arrest: the bathtub stained red, splotches half hazardly wiped away, the shower sprinkled with a red liquid running down the drain, and the white towel in the hamper stained a dark-ish red.

“What the-“

Rafe’s heart sinks and he immediately books it out of the bathroom, throwing the door open so hard it nearly comes out of its hinges. He turns the light on, getting on the bed and tugging you out of under the blankets, panicked.

“Rafe, what the hell?!” you shout, but he ignores you as he scans you up and down, patting you down to see if you’re hurt.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Rafe sits back, relieved when he realizes you’re fine. “Fuck, you scared me.”

“I scared you???” you retort, staring at him flabbergasted. “I was sleeping like a baby until you barged in here and started feeling me up like you’ve been in prison for the last five years, what the fuck!”

Rafe sighs, rubbing his forehead. “I came home and the bathroom looks like a murder scene, how the fuck did you expect me to react?” he grunts, his eye twitching. “What the fuck were you even doing in there?”

Just as the words leave his mouth, he pauses, taking a closer look at your hair before running his fingers through the red strands.

“You dyed your hair.”

It’s more of a statement than a question and you nod, suddenly feeling a bit self conscious.

“Yeah. Do you like it?”

Rafe doesn’t reply, instead he brushes your hair with his fingers, coming up to the back of your head before tugging on it to pull you into a deep kiss. “It’s hot.”

You giggle into the kiss, swatting at his chest, pulling away a bit. “Sorry I ruined the bathroom, I didn’t know hair dye stains so badly.”

“‘s fine,” Rafe grunts, pressing you into the bed, as he hovers over you. “I can call a cleaning company tomorrow. Right now I’m more interested in seeing if your hair stains the sheets.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: just a quick drabble i wrote in ten minutes inspired by me taking a shower after the hair salon forgetting how the red dye leaks. also bc @zyafics told me to post so. not beta read, we die like REDACTED

[woolysium]

Anatomy Lesson

﹒♡﹒Pairing: Yunho + Mingi (college AU) x reader

﹒♡﹒Summary: As med students, you, Yunho, and Mingi have spent countless hours studying anatomy together—but in this study session, anatomical diagrams turn into hands-on lessons.

﹒♡﹒Word count: 4k

﹒♡﹒Genre: smut (MDNI)

﹒♡﹒Warning: pure filth, very nsfw, threesome, restraint, hand kink, choking, unprotected sex (a no no irl), double penetration, rough sex, very dom!Yunho, whiny mess!Mingi, Mingi is very desperate, teasing, overstimulation (let me know if i miss anything ig its too long)

﹒♡﹒Request: @mingi-s-dimples "Hey pooks 🙂‍↕️💖 it's me, Bia! I'd love to read something written by your for me sooo here is my request 😋😋 Yungi x reader, college au studying anatomy (I have the biggest yungi brainrot rn I'm so sorry + I'm studying anatomy as we speak). They've been study buddies since they started uni 2 yrs ago and they always met to study tgt. SO I'd love to read how reader is like into them but is too shy to tell them and the boys are like.. also kinda into her but they thought it's be weird to like.. tell her cause it'd be a 3some. NOT ANYMORE !! They study anatomy and reader starts touching them intimately explaining some of the structures (for ex thigh/abs and so on) and Mingi for ex gets turned on from it and gets a boner duh. They have some small talk and then they yk.. have a 3some 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ sigh. Anyways, I'd love to see: restraining with their bodies/hand kink/slight choking/double penetration (is not a kink ik), praise, teasing 😌 Gave you all the details I'd love to see and THANK YOU SO MUCHHHH LOVE YOUU 😋💖💖💖"

﹒♡﹒Author's note: This took longer than I expected, and filthier.... I never knew i could do this good until now lmao. Anyways this is a long ass fic, and cheers to my babe Bia for requesting it, even though i kinda died at the end so it looks rushed but, hope you like it, I love your idea so so much. It was a ride writing this, I had to research a shit ton on anatomy, but it was fun tho. This is not proofread thoroughly since it's too long and i was getting sleepy, so please ignore any errors. Enjoy the meal. I love you Bia 💜

You’ve known Yunho and Mingi since the first day of med school. Being more of an introvert, you usually keep to yourself, avoiding any unnecessary attention. But that day, the only open seat was right in the middle of the lecture hall. Yunho and Mingi showed up late, looking a bit lost, and ended up grabbing the two seats on either side of you.

At first, you figured they were just two extroverted guys who’d probably drift off to make other friends once they settled in—exactly the type you usually avoid. But as the lecture went on, they kept leaning over to ask for help, clearly struggling with the material. Yunho, with his easy smile and laid-back vibe, nudged you and whispered, “Think you could explain this? We’re kinda lost.” Mingi, with a shy grin that made him seem more approachable than his confident appearance suggested, nodded along.

You explained the basics, and they were grateful enough to ask if you’d study together outside of class. Despite your initial hesitation, you said yes, you couldn’t even believe yourself. From there, study sessions became a regular thing—quiet corners of the library or your living room, where you’d help them with the tough stuff, and they’d bring snacks and keep the mood light. They made everything feel a bit more bearable at least, even the late-night cram sessions.

Two years later, the three of you are still a team, but things have changed. Somewhere along the way, simple glances and casual touches started to linger. And there were moments—small, fleeting ones—where you could swear they were feeling it too. Like when Yunho would shift closer to you on the couch, his arm draped casually behind your shoulders, his fingers brushing the back of your neck just enough to make your skin tingle. Or when Mingi’s hand would find your lower back during those late-night coffee runs, the touch lingering a little too long to be just friendly. But no one ever said anything about it, all of you dancing around the unspoken tension that had begun to define your time together.

Tonight is just another study session at your place, and you don’t really think much about anything else other than the lessons. You're all spread out across your bed—Yunho sitting up against the headboard, his long legs stretched out, Mingi lying on his side next to him, propped up on one elbow. You sit cross-legged facing them, surrounded by notes and anatomy diagrams.

You're pointing out different muscle groups and explaining their connections, but you notice the looks of confusion on their faces. With a little laugh, you suggest, “Guys, I think it would be better to show you directly. How about I demonstrate them on your body?” Totally innocent request, or so you thought.

Yunho glances at Mingi, who shrugs with a faint smirk. “Yeah sure. Might be easier to understand that way,” Yunho says, scooching to the side a bit to make space for you. Mingi stretches out beside him, nodding along.

You start with Yunho, tracing the lines of his arm, outlining the biceps and triceps as you explain each muscle group. “So, here’s the biceps brachii,” you murmur, fingers gently pressing along the length of his upper arm, feeling the firmness beneath. Yunho listens intently, his usual playful smile tempered by a newfound focus as he watches your hand. “And just behind here, the triceps—helps with arm extension,” you continue, trailing your hand down the back of his arm. His body is relaxed under your touch, but there’s a slight shift in his breathing when your fingers glide over his chest and down to his abs, the smooth firmness beneath your fingertips making you a little more aware of the warmth radiating between you.

When you move over to Mingi, the atmosphere tenses up even more, you are oblivious, somehow. You run your fingers along his chest, explaining the pectorals. “This is the pectoralis major—it’s responsible for moving the arm across the body,” you say softly, your hand tracing the broad curve of his chest. He listens closely, his breathing grows a bit deeper as you outline each muscle. You continue downward, fingertips gliding over his defined abs. “And here’s the rectus abdominis… your core muscles.” Mingi’s body tenses beneath your touch, brows furrowing as he bites his lips, trying to control his reaction.

“This part—your obliques, they help with twisting movements,” you add, tracing the defined muscles, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. Your touch follows the natural curve of his hip, then skims lower. It’s meant to be purely academic, but then your fingers slide over the curve of his hip and graze against the waistband of his jeans.

You’re about to pull away when your hand slips, just slightly, brushing over his crotch. You freeze, the realization hitting you like a jolt, the feeling of Mingi’s arousal under your fingertips sending a rush of warmth to your own cheeks. Mingi’s breath catches audibly, his body tensing beneath your touch. You glance up at him, heart racing, but his expression is caught somewhere between surprise and something more intense, his face flushed.

Before you can say anything, you catch the way Yunho's expression has changed too. There’s a heat in his eyes as he looks between you and Mingi, cheeks a little flushed and his breath coming out uneven, though he’s still trying to keep up his usual playful front. "You know, you might be a little too good at this," he says, his voice dropping, teasing but rougher than usual.

The air in the room feels thicker, making your heart beat faster. Yunho moves in closer, his gaze darker, watching you in a way that makes you swallow hard. There’s this electric charge between the three of you now, impossible to ignore. For a second, it’s like time stops—none of you quite sure how to navigate this shift, but aware that something's definitely changed.

Yunho’s usual teasing grin fades when he catches your gaze, something more serious in his eyes. His breath hitches, and you notice how he glances from your eyes to your lips, then back again, like he’s debating what to do. The room goes quiet, and the tension is thick enough to make you feel like you’re holding your breath.

You swallow hard, nerves making your voice waver as you finally break the silence. “I... I’ve liked both of you for a while now,” you admit, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. “But I was too scared to say anything. I thought... I thought you’d find it weird, or that it would ruin everything.”

Mingi lets out a breath he’s been holding, his expression softening even as his lips curl into a smirk, a mixture of relief and disbelief paints his face. “You serious?” He glances over at Yunho, who gives a slow, almost doubtful nod, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing either. Mingi’s hand moves to rest on your thigh, his grip firm, sending a jolt through you. “Look, Y/N. We’ve been into you for so long, but we thought you’d be freaked out by the idea... of being with both of us like this, you know.”

Yunho’s hand tilts your chin so you’re looking right at him. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and his voice drops lower. “Yeah, we didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But if you’re saying you’re into this too...” His other hand slides to your waist, tugging you a bit closer. “Maybe we’ve been holding back for no reason.”

You shiver under their touch, heat pooling low in your stomach as the reality of the situation sinks in. Mingi’s thumb strokes slow circles on your thigh, his other hand trailing up your back. Yunho leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he murmurs, “So... what do you want, really?” 

You catch your breath, feeling their warmth pressed against you from both sides. You look at them, and it’s like all the unspoken feelings are right there on their faces. A nervous smile tugs at your lips as you admit, “I want... both of you.”

Mingi’s grip tightens, and Yunho’s breath comes out in a low, almost relieved sigh, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. It’s like a dam breaking—no more restraint, just the three of you finally letting go of the tension that’s been building for so long.

The bed dips under their weight as Yunho settles behind you, Mingi in front. The heat radiating from their bodies is intoxicating, and you shiver as Yunho’s rough hand grips your jaw, tilting your head back. “Look at you. Already so needy,” he growls, the pad of his thumb grazing your lower lip, sending a thrill straight to your core.

His lips crash into yours, rough and eager, as if he can’t hold back a second longer. His hands are everywhere—one cupping your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek, the other slipping beneath your shirt, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His grip is firm, possessive, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer.

Mingi’s hands tug at the hem of your shirt, impatience lacing his movements. He pulls the fabric up and over your head, his fingers fumbling slightly as he tosses it aside. “He’s always in such a hurry,” Yunho teases, his voice a low rumble against your lips, but there’s a smirk in his tone that says he’s just as eager.

Your bra is the next to go, Mingi’s hands quickly unhook it and slide it down your arms. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, his tongue wetting his lips. “You look so good like this,” he murmurs, his breath coming in shallow pants. He palms your chest, thumbs brushing over your nipples, drawing a gasp from you as he rolls them between his fingers, his touch alternating between gentle and rough.

Yunho’s hand trails down your side, fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants. He yanks them down in one swift motion, along with your panties, leaving you completely bare between them. He pulls back just enough to admire the sight, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. “You’re beautiful, I’ve dreamed of this for so long,” he says, but there’s a rough edge to his voice that sends a shiver through you.

His breath is warm against your ear, his hands trailing down your sides, tracing the curves of your body with a possessive touch. He pulls you closer against him, his large hands sliding over your thighs before gently urging them apart. He holds you open, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady while the other spreads you wider, his fingers brushing against your slickness as he exposes you to Mingi.

Meanwhile, Mingi’s hands roam over your thighs, pushing them apart as he leans in, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers tease along the edge of your crotch, just barely brushing over your wetness.

“Already soaked, huh?” Mingi’s voice is husky, tinged with a whine as his fingers press harder, rubbing slow circles over the soaked heat. He’s watching you, eyes blown wide with lust, lips parted as he takes in every little reaction. He lets out a shaky breath, his impatience bleeding through. “You’re so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?”

Yunho’s hand wraps around your throat, fingers tighten slightly, cutting off your reply. “Mingi, quit messing around,” he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. His fingers slowly twisting your nipples, hard enough to make you gasp. “She wants it rough, so let’s not make her wait.”

Mingi, positioned between your legs, drinks in the sight of you with darkened eyes, a low groan escaping him. “Yunho, she’s so wet for us,” he mutters, his voice husky with desire. He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his lips trailing a path closer to where you need him most, his breath teasing your skin and making you squirm in Yunho’s hold.

Yunho tightens his grip, keeping you steady, a smirk playing on his lips as he feels you try to press closer to Mingi. “Easy, baby. Let him take his time with you,” Yunho murmurs, his tone low and commanding, his fingers brushing along your inner thigh as he keeps you spread wide for Mingi.

Mingi glances up at you through half-lidded eyes, his mouth hovering just inches away from your core, and you can feel the heat of his breath ghosting over your most sensitive spot. “You ready for this?” he asks, his usual confidence cracking just enough to reveal the desperation underneath. He doesn’t wait for your answer before leaning in, his tongue dragging slowly over your folds, tasting you with a groan that vibrates against your skin.

You gasp, your head falling back against Yunho’s shoulder as the sensation crashes through you. Mingi’s mouth is relentless, his tongue working you over with a rhythm that has your thighs shaking, but Yunho’s grip keeps you from closing your legs, keeps you open and exposed to every lick, every gentle suck. He spreads you wider with his fingers, giving Mingi the perfect angle, and Mingi takes full advantage, his tongue dipping inside you before dragging back up to circle your clit, teasing you mercilessly.

Yunho’s lips find your neck again, pressing rough kisses along your skin, his teeth grazing over your pulse point. “Look at you, falling apart already,” he whispers, his voice filled with amusement as he watches the way your chest heaves with every breath. “Mingi, I think she likes that,” he teases, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, deliberate circles.

Mingi pulls back just enough to speak, his voice low and rough. “She tastes so good, Yunho... I don’t think I can stop,” he admits, his usual confidence slipping into a more desperate edge. He dives back in with a hunger, his tongue working faster now, alternating between soft licks and harsher, more focused attention on your clit, sucking it into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue until you’re crying out, your hands clutching at Yunho’s arm for support.

Yunho groans softly at the sound of your moans, his own arousal pressing hard against your lower back. He lets one hand drift down, his fingers grazing over Mingi’s jaw as he works, a silent encouragement as he keeps you pinned in place, making sure you can’t escape the overwhelming pleasure. “Yeah, that’s it, Mingi... make her fall apart,” Yunho breathes, his own voice thick with desire as he watches the scene unfold.

Mingi’s pace grows more frantic, his lips and tongue driving you to the edge, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady as he devours you like he’s starving. The combination of Yunho’s firm, steady grip and Mingi’s relentless mouth leaves you helpless between them, your body arching as the tension builds, heat pooling low in your belly until you can’t hold back anymore.

“Yunho, please... I—” Your words dissolve into a choked moan as Mingi’s tongue circles your clit faster, pushing you right to the brink. Yunho’s hand slides back to your throat, not applying pressure but just resting there, a reminder that he’s the one in control, a reminder of how completely you’re at their mercy.

“That’s it, baby. Come for us,” Yunho whispers against your ear, his thumb stroking over your pulse as if feeling the way it races beneath his touch. His other hand tightens on your thigh, holding you wide open for Mingi’s tongue, making sure you can’t escape the intense sensations that roll through you in waves.

And when your release finally crashes over you, it’s like everything shatters—your body shaking between them as Mingi holds you steady, his tongue slowing but never stopping, drawing out every last aftershock until you’re a trembling mess in their hands. Yunho’s grip softens, turning soothing as he brushes his lips against your temple, “Good girl,” his voice soft in a low register.

Mingi pulls away from you, lips slick and pupils blown wide, catching his breath as he watches the way your body trembles. He flashes you a wild grin, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he takes in the sight of you coming undone. “You’ve got no idea how good you look like this,” he murmurs, voice rough and low, sending a shiver down your spine.

Yunho’s large hand cups your jaw, his fingers pressing gently but firmly as he tilts your head back, stealing your breath with a demanding kiss. His tongue slides against yours, leaving you dizzy with the heat of his mouth, while his free hand drifts between your legs. His long fingers find the slickness Mingi left behind, sliding inside you with ease, spreading your pussy open, curling to press against that sensitive spot that makes you gasp into his mouth. He groans at how ready you are, his own control slipping as he pumps his fingers slowly, making you arch against him.

“Think she’s ready for us, Yunho?” Mingi teases, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your thighs, his voice tinged with a playful edge even as his own breath comes out shaky. His hands press your legs open wider, his grip rough and eager, holding you in place beneath him.

Yunho pulls back, letting his lips ghost over the shell of your ear as he speaks. “More than ready,” he murmurs, his tone low and dark. He withdraws his fingers, leaving you clenching around nothing, and Mingi’s lips twitch into a smirk as he watches the way your hips move, seeking more. He pulls his own shirt over his head, revealing the toned muscles beneath, and shoves his jeans down in a hurry, his cock heavy in his hand as he strokes himself, his eyes glued to the way you tremble beneath them.

They both shed the last of their clothes, and the sight of them—Mingi with a desperation in his eyes, his cock hard and leaking, and Yunho’s self-assured composure as he strokes himself slowly—has heat pooling in your belly all over again.

Yunho catches Mingi’s eye, and there’s a shared look between them—a look that you can’t quite make out of. Mingi huffs out a breath, a smirk curling his lips even as his hands tighten on your thighs. “Ready to make her feel good, aren’t we?” Yunho taunts, his tone edged with a dangerous kind of promise.

Mingi’s response is a low hum as he settles between your legs again, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. He presses a final kiss to your thigh, his lips soft before he lines himself up with your entrance. “You’re gonna take us both, sweetheart. You up for that?”

Yunho’s grip tightens on your jaw, guiding your head back so you’re looking at him, his expression dark and intense. “She can take it. Can’t you?” he challenges, his thumb brushing over your lips, the pressure making your breath hitch. You nod, can’t even form words, and a satisfied smirk tugs at Yunho’s mouth.

Mingi eases himself inside you, inch by inch, his moan vibrating through you as he stretches you open. The way his big dick fills you is almost overwhelming, his rough grip grounding you as he bottoms out, shuddering against you. “Fuck, she’s so tight... I’m not gonna last if you keep squeezing me like that,” he’s breathless, barely keeping himself together as your body tightens around him.

Yunho smirks, his fingers flexing against your throat. “She likes it, Mingi,” he murmurs, the dominance in his tone sending a thrill through you both. He moves his hand to your clit, his touch unrelenting, and the added sensation sends you spiraling, your body arching back into him as he drives you higher.

Yunho’s smirk widens, his gaze tracking every twitch of your expression as he positions himself behind you, the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance alongside Mingi’s. He moves slowly, letting the stretch settle in, and you gasp at the sensation, the stretch is intense, burning in the most delicious way as your body struggles to adjust. They both push forward, filling you to the brim, and you can’t hold back the sharp cry that escapes you, the sensation leaving you breathless.

Yunho’s breath ghosts over your skin, his voice a low growl in your ear. “Look at how desperate he is for you,” he taunts, his fingers pressing down on your clit, rubbing rough circles. “But you love it, don’t you? Being filled like this, over and over until you can’t even think straight.”

Mingi’s head snaps up at that, his lips curling into a defiant smirk even as his movements falter, every thrust turning sloppy and wild. “She loves it... I can feel how tight she gets every time you touch her,” he gasps out, his voice cracking into a moan as Yunho’s fingers tighten their grip, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp, and he holds you there, his grip firm as he watches the way your lips part, vision going hazy. Mingi loses himself in the rhythm, his cock twitching inside you as he chases the edge of release, his desperation palpable in every shuddering breath.

You can feel Mingi’s pace falters, his head dropping to your shoulder as his breath stutters against your skin. “Fuck, I can’t hold back... she’s driving me crazy,” he groans, his voice breaking on a whimper as he feels the way you clench around him.

From behind you, Yunho chuckles, his own control slipping as his hips snap forward, burying himself deeper inside you. “Don’t hold back,” he growls. “Make her come again.” The dual sensations of their thrusts, the weight of their bodies, and the intimacy of the moment push you closer to the edge, and you feel the tension building again. “I can’t—oh, God, I’m so close!” you cry, your nails digging into Mingi’s arms as you cling to him.

The room fills with the sounds of your combined breaths, the wet slap of skin against skin, and the low, breathless curses spilling from Mingi’s lips. His hand slips, reaching back to grip Yunho’s wrist, grounding himself as he rocks into you with wild abandon, his moans turning needy and high-pitched as he finally loses himself in the pleasure.

Yunho increases his pace, and Mingi’s fingers dig into your skin as he matches the intensity. “That’s it, just let go,” he encourages, his voice a desperate plea.

The heat spirals through you, the sensation of being double filled amplifying everything. Your body arches back against Yunho, and with a final thrust from both sides—it pushes you over, and you come with a broken cry, clenching down around them.

Mingi loses it then, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you with a choked moan, his whole body shuddering against yours. Yunho isn’t far behind, his grip on you steady as he pushes deep one last time, burying himself as he loses control. He keeps moving through the aftershocks, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you’re a trembling, spent mess in their arms.

They hold you there, their bodies pressed against yours, the heat of the moment fading into a heavy, sated silence. Mingi’s head rests on your shoulder, his breath ragged against your skin, while Yunho’s hand gently loosens around your throat, his lips pressing a softer kiss to the side of your neck.

You’re all left panting, tangled together in a messy heap, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction. Mingi pulls out first, dropping back onto the bed with a breathless laugh. “Fuck, that was... intense.”

Yunho wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you against him as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Yeah, it was an intense anatomy lesson, but she took it like a champ,” he murmurs, voice full of pride. “Didn’t you, babe?”

You nod weakly, a small smile tugging at your lips as you relax into their warmth. “Yeah... I did.”

by @woolysium

[freyito]

ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴡ/ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏꜱ

this is another little drabble thing for all the men in mk1, since i thought it was another super cute idea and i have so many requests for the lin kuei trio! but barley any for any other characters!!! i think they all deserve the same love :D these are pretty much little snippets of like how they sleep, what they do before they go to bed with you, little late night excursions, and who wakes up first/how they wake up, stuff like that :) this one took a looooot out of me goddamn, but i love it and i hope u all enjoy it too!!!!

cw: gn reader, literally just fluff, shang tsung is a diiiiiiva, proofread

-Liu Kang

Nights with Liu Kang are ethereal. When you're up to it, he's gonna take you to the most secluded place he can think of, where you can almost see the entire universe shining within the sky. He'll recount stories from the past to you, point out constellations,- even in the overcrowded sky- and even make up some, just for fun. Just because he's a god doesn't mean he won't make time for you. He actively seeks you out during the night, really.

Liu Kang doesn't move much in his sleep, either. He's got his arms around you, and his head pressed up against yours. It's the only way he can sleep well, he says. If you slip out of his arms somehow, he's awake almost immediately. It gives him peace of mind. He's also relatively warm, since he is the god of fire. So don't expect to be all covered up in blankets.

Liu Kang also refuses to leave until you are awake. He does not want to give the impression that he is abandoning you, he knows what its like to suddenly wake up alone. Quite frankly, you take precedence over godhood, and he doesn't mind waiting to start his day.

-Bi-Han

Bi-Han really enjoys nightly walks through the forest. He believes it's a great way to end the day and to wind down. The soft sounds of the wind running through the leaves, a streaming flowing in the distance, and no one but you and him. Sometimes, he'll just enjoy the silence, and other times he'll talk to you. Mundane things, stuff that even he seems to prideful to ask. But he'll ask about your day, and he'll want every little detail. Especially if you didn't get to spend your day with him.

Bi-Han also doesn't move at all in his sleep. He'll hold you every now and then, but he's more than content just sharing a bed with you. As said before, he almost has an aversion to touch. Sometimes he'll turn his back to you, but not because he's mad. It's simply a comfortable position. There are some times where he will wake up in the middle of the night and find himself wanting to hold you, so he will. He'll hold you close, almost as if he's afraid of loosing you.

Normally, Bi-Han wakes up first. Sometimes he'll be gone when you wake up, but he's soon to return. Other times, you wake up in his arms, while he's still sleeping. It's a game of chance to see who wakes up first, really.

-Kuai Liang

Kuai Liang will always wind down simply by laying in bed with you, your legs tangled amongst each other, his fingers caught up in your hair. He's so close to you, just mere centimeters from his lips, yet he does not close the distance. His eyes are transfixed on you, the silence full of love and passion and content. At the very last moment, when you get too impatient, he finally places his lips on yours. And you always melt into them, every single time.

Kuai Liang tends to move in his sleep a little, but not enough to wake you. Normally, you two will fall asleep spooning, but you'll wake up with him either pushed away from you, or somehow even closer. It's not voluntary, and when he finds himself away from you, he's a little heartbroken. But he'll make up for it, almost too quickly.

Kuai Liang will always wake up before you, he enjoys watching your sleeping face. He loves these small moments of vulnerability, it's something that matters deeply to him. To him, being able to fall asleep with someone isn't easy. He has to be comfortable being with you, and for you to be this vulnerable with him, it makes his heart skip a beat.

-Johnny Cage

Two words. Night drives. Johnny is and always will be down to take night drives with you. Around the city, somewhere in those smaller towns, or even on the country roads. Even if he complains that the country roads will fuck up his tires. He'll go anywhere you want, play any music you want, or none if you prefer Johnny's sweet, smooth voice. He'll always have his hand on your thigh, too. His hand won't wander, but he definitely enjoys your presence.

Johnny can't stay fucking still in his sleep, not for a second. Yeah, maybe he'll fall asleep with you in his arms, but when you wake up, he's sprawled out over the bed like Patrick fucking Star. You've lost track of how many times you've been kicked off the bed. All in love, though. He isn't doing it on purpose, he swears. Pinky swears. He'll get a bigger bed, soon! So you don't have to fight for your life to stay on it over the night!

You will always wake up before him, unless Johnny has a gig. He hates waking up in the morning, even if it's next to you. However, if you make an attempt to get out of bed while he's still asleep, he'll subconsciously grab onto you. He condemns you to an eternity in bed with him, as if it's your own personal hell. It isn't, but you always pout.

-Kenshi Takahashi

Like Kuai Liang, Kenshi prefers nothing more than settling down with you in bed. He enjoys the mood, having you rest your head on his bare chest, playing with your hair, running his hands down your back. Those quiet moments where you two just enjoy each others presence, finding peace within the chaos of the world. As ashamed as he is to be considered a (former) Yakuza, he does enjoy it when you trace his tattoos with your gentle hands.

While you fall asleep on Kenshi's chest more often then not, he's quite restless. He has a habit of waking up in the middle of the night and seeking your comfort. And when you end up waking up with him, there are very quiet, tender moments. He'll call you his, runs his hands down your body all warm and tender, and kiss you passionately. If those moments don't end up with something else, simply sharing the intimacy and his feelings for you gets him to go back to sleep.

Surprisingly, you'll wake up before Kenshi does. Always. Perhaps it's the fact that he can never get a full nights sleep. But he likes waking up to you being there, he won't throw a fit like Johnny does if you get up without him, but it does sting a little for him. Though, he'll always find you in the house, and will always surprise you by wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

-Kung Lao

To wind down, Kung Lao really enjoys just messing around. He's gonna chase you all around the house, slow dance with you from room to room, serenade you (horribly), and many more. He likes to make the time he spends with you as fun as possible, even if he's teasing you. By far, he loves carrying you around the house, telling you all sorts of stupid stories amidst telling you exactly how much he loves you.

Kung Lao tosses and turns quite a lot in his sleep. Yet, his arms will always find their way around your waist. Even if it's just for a couple of seconds. Sometimes, he has a habit of pushing you around the bed. He hates that he does, and he's tried to fix how restless his body is when he sleeps, but he just hasn't been able.

With that, Kung Lao always makes up for it in the morning. He's always going to wake up before you, always. Perhaps it's because of his life as a farmer, or maybe he just feels real guilty about his sleep habits. He refuses to let you leave the bed when you do wake up, he'll hold you real close by your waist and rest his forehead on yours. He'll stare in your eyes for what feels like forever, until he gives you a quick kiss on the lips and frees you.

-Raiden

Raiden enjoys just talking about your day before bed. To sit down, enjoy the sunset with each other, and talk about the mundane. Even if he's Earthrealm's protector, he really misses the mundane, the boring side of life. So to just hear about your day, even if all day was spent at home, is a great pleasure to him. And he'll tell you about his, too.

The man sleeps easy, Raiden doesn't have much troubling him in his sleep at all. He's perfectly still, although he does tend to lay on his back. He loves it when you cuddle up to him, even if you really only lay on his arm. He doesn't mind if he wakes up and it's numb, no, really.

Raiden is an early riser, and if you are too, then that's perfect. He also enjoys spending his mornings with you, in fact, he'll stay in bed til you wake up. He pretends he wakes up at the same time with you, just because it feels like a very special moment to him.

-Zeffeero

Zeffeero likes to use his magic to span out pretty little tricks for you. Laying down, your head resting on his shoulder, his hand lazily tracing your waist, as he spins out little spirals, forms stars, almost like shadow puppets. He'll argue that it's a waste of his talent, but you know he loves doing it for you. He loves that little sparkle of adoration in your eyes.

Zeffeero has a harder time going to sleep. He actually struggles a little with physical touch when he's trying to sleep, so more often then not, you two end up sleeping facing eachother. He'll cuddle you before bed, of course, but he just doesn't know why he has a problem with it when he's asleep. He's perfectly still, in his sleep though.

Because of this, you always wake up to Zeffeero playing with your hair, admiring your features, and even humming slightly to himself. That being said, it doesn't matter how early you wake up, he will always, always wake up first. It's almost like a challenge for you, but you don't relinquish the sweet sanctity of sleep.

-Tomas Vrbada

Tomas loves making the night magical, with what he can do. The amount of effort and thought he puts into every night to make it the perfect experience is almost scary. Anything you want, he'll do. However, he loves slow dancing with you in your room before you two fall asleep. Especially in the dark. It's a wonder how he doesn't bump into anything, guiding you along. During this, he loves to intertwine his fingers with yours, pulling you in real close by the small of your back, and peppering your face with kisses.

After you two end up falling onto the bed, Tomas keeps you close. He wraps you two up in the covers, and falls asleep relatively quickly. As peaceful as he seems during the day, at night he feels haunted by what would have been. Tomas has chronic nightmares, and he tends to wake up a lot in the middle of the night. If he wakes you up with them, he feels so guilty. He doesn't wake up suddenly, since he is used to this, but he does tend to twitch in his sleep.

It's a 50/50 chance with who will wake up first, if it's Tomas, he re-adjusts and pulls you in even closer. He hates waking up, he's the type to spend at least an hour in bed with you before properly waking up. If you wake up first, and leave the bed, he actively seeks you out in his tired state. Once he finds you, he drags you right back to bed.

-Baraka

Night walks are one of the greatest ways to end the day with Baraka. Anywhere, he'll always make the small trip worth it. Normally, you two walk in silence. It's not a bad thing, simply spending time with you reminds him how loved he is. But sometimes you'll find odd little things to talk about, tell stories, all of it.

Baraka prefers not to hold you, in fact he's afraid to even sleep in the same bed. He loves you, and it's because of that. He's worried about spreading Tarkat to you, so he'll keep his distance in bed. He wants so desperately to hold you, to bury his face in your neck and feel your warmth, but your life is not worth that. Because of this, he sleeps with his back to you.

Baraka wakes up before you. He sleeps lightly, and any little twitch wakes him up. Normally, he can never really get back to sleep. So he'll sit up in bed and wait on you to wake up. He thinks it's important for you to wake up to him, because with all the things he wants to do but can't, he at least wants you to know he'll always be there.

-Geras

Geras' favorite thing to do to wind down before you two go to bed is to read with you. Perhaps he is a construct of time and has no use for mortal literature, but he kind of finds it interesting. Whatever book you're reading, he wants to read, too. Having you sit on his lap, while you two read the same book, it makes him tired. Even though he really has no concept of being tired. You bring out a whole range of emotions that he never thought was possible from a construct.

If you don't fall asleep as-is in Geras' arms, he loves spooning. He really has no need for sleep, but he will gladly guide you off to sleep. He'll stroke your hair, place kisses on the back of your shoulders, and whisper all sorts of sweet nothings. And once you're asleep, he goes right back to watching over the timeline. He'd love to sleep with you, but it is really only something he can fake.

By the time you're awake, Geras is right back in bed with you. He'd hate to have you wake up alone, so he always takes an hour or so out of his tireless watch to be with you in the morning. He'll wake you up gently, make you some tea, and hold you close for a couple minutes, before kissing you and sending you off on your day.

-Syzoth

By far, Syzoth is probably the most cuddly. He enjoys watching some of Johnny's horrid movies before bed,- but only the nice ones- while he's all wrapped around you. He's got his legs tangled up with yours, holding you close to his chest, and kissing the crown of your head. He actually refuses to have you leave his arms- unless you really need it or are uncomfortable- because keeping you close is the only thing that really sends him to sleep.

You'll fall asleep like that, too. You have an effect on Syzoth, he just feels so happy and safe with you that he'll fall asleep halfway through the movie. While he tends to wake up every now and then, he doesn't move a damn muscle in his sleep. Not a one. Sometimes, he'll squeeze you just a little tighter when he wakes up. To remind himself that you're there.

You end up waking up before Syzoth does, and it's a struggle to get out of his hold. But, by then, he's awake too. He'll let you escape, but when you get out of bed, he insists on pulling you back to bed with him. For at least 20 more minutes. And then, he'll follow you around as you brush your teeth, shower, etc. He's especially clingy in the morning.

-Havik

As mentioned in my love languages post, Havik loves naps. So normally, you find yourself laying on his chest, while he tries to fall asleep for the third time today. He believes being able to fall asleep with someone is the ultimate vulnerability, so having you there makes him feel stronger. As long as some part of you is touching him while he drifts off, he's happy. And if you even stray from him, he's pulling you back in, all grumpy.

Havik has trouble sleeping properly, despite his favorite pastime. He finds himself waking up quite often, and he has some rather visceral reactions. He tends to wake you up, too. But he's always apologetic. He'll pull you in closer, loosing himself in your eyes. Only then do you two end up falling back asleep. Sometimes, it repeats a couple times through the night, but there are some nights where he sleeps peacefully.

You will always wake up before Havik does. But he's still very aware of his surroundings, so if you try and leave the bed before he's even semi-conscious, he's going to pout and pull you back in once more. He'll hide his face in your neck, muttering "mine", until he's fully awake and ready to start the day.

-General Shao

Shao is a fucking CUDDLEBUG. Despite his big and mean demeanor, he loves showing you around the city before bed. Even if you've seen it a thousand times before, he loves the palace at night. He's got his hand on your waist, in the moments he knows you two are alone. And when you two get back home, he's carrying you to bed. He refuses to let you walk. You're his, and he's going to treat you like royalty. He'll make sure you're all snug and comfortable under the sheets, then get underneath them with you.

When Shao is still in his sleep, he's got one arm around you and your head pressed up against his chest. For someone with a life like his, he sleeps peacefully, though he does sleep light. Any little sound that isn't just you shifting in bed, or the house settling has him awake and fully alert. I'd be lying if I said he didn't have a couple knives ready. Not that he needs them. He'll slink out of bed and scout out the whole house to make sure nothings amiss. And once he's sure that no ones here to try and hurt him or you, he'll get back in bed. When you ask what happened, he'll saying "Nothing" in this tired and grumpy voice.

Waking up in the bed alone is a common occurrence. Shao's a general, so he has to be up bright and early, no matter how long you two stayed up til. He regrets that he can't spend time in the morning with you, but sometimes you'll find him getting ready, and that's quite enough for him.

-Shang Tsung

Wherever you two are, Shang Tsung enjoys taking you out on a "romantic" night, walking and talking, a little slow dancing here and there, and really just showing you off to the complete strangers of the night. He'll even steal some passionate kisses under the moon, just to top off the night. And when you return home, he's whining that he's too tired and will just drag you right to bed.

Shang Tsung loves to be held in bed, yeah he'll hold you too, but you have to be the big spoon. Have to. He's a diva like that. And if you so much as accidentally move in his sleep, he's going to pout and whine in the morning that you didn't hold him. But he sleeps rather soundly, aside from that. In fact, he's a pretty heavy sleeper.

You are the first to wake up, and Shang Tsung will wake up only a second after. You know, to whine that you aren't holding him close enough. After that, though, he refuses to leave bed. Begging you to stay, almost desperately. Especially in the morning, he seeks your comfort. He wants to hold you, whisper all sorts of things to you, all to ease his mind.

-Reiko

Reiko is the only one who thinks the very, very best way to end the day is sparring. He's going to tackle you in bed, and while you writhe and try to break free of his touch, he's going to pepper your face with kisses and make his way from your bottom lip, to your chin, to your neck, only to pick you up and fake throwing you back down. Yeah, it wakes you up more than it tires you out, but after a couple minutes, he'll give up and lay down on the bed with you. Out of breath. He puts way too much effort into play fighting with you, really.

Those moments are the very rare moments you get to see Reiko drop his serious, war-ridden face. After all that, he'll roll over to his side and lay his arm over you. He won't full-on cuddle you at night, he finds it harder to sleep like that. But he makes sure he's touching you in some way. However, he has a hard time sleeping peacefully. He's haunted, and he tends to wake up at least twice a night. He doesn't have a big reaction, it's more like he's flinch a bit and wake up. It's something that will never wake you up, but he will always take a minute to hover over you when he does wake up.

Like Shao, Reiko always wakes up first. But he'll wake you up with him. All gentle like, he won't shake you or anything. He wants to make sure he gets at least a few words and waking moments with you before he starts his day. And before he leaves, he always pulls you in for a soft kiss, one full of yearning and adoration. That's something he will never forget to do.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[staryuee]

HOW THEY REACT TO YOUR SILENT TREATMENT.

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread … sigh

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . you and your partner are having a “cooling down period”, a time of détente, after a recent argument. how do they deal with the lack of love from you?

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . diluc, eula, wanderer, ayato, gorou, tartaglia, lyney, wriothesley, neuvillette, arlecchino

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . as a psychology student ☝️🤓 i can safely say that the silent treatment is usually frowned upon due to its connotations with emotional abuse, therefore i tried my best to make it apparent that this sort of silence is within the boundaries of the relationship ( ･᷄ὢ･᷅ ) please communicate with your loved ones if you feel a certain way :)

you and your beloved recently had a pretty bad argument. out of respect for both of your feelings you both decided to have a period of détente to allow a gradual recovery of your emotions and logical reasonings.

there was no need to argue, and there was also no need to be hostile or petty; therefore your silent treatment wasn’t a way to maliciously gain control or make your lover come running back to you, it was a way for both of you to regain composure and come back to the topic when prepared.

that did unfortunately, lead to much less affectionate gestures from both of you. of course there was still the casual “i love you” every morning and night accompanied by a simple kiss, but it never went anything beyond that.

while your lover fully knew why this sort of peaceful coexistence was necessary, sometimes it’s sincerely difficult to not just reach out and kiss you breathless.

you’re so close yet so far, it’s unbearable.

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

master diluc has been rather restless lately.

constant muttering to himself, plucking the dried up skin that stuck out from his badly bitten lips, his gloved hands constantly scratching a non existent scratch; honestly, if the fellow residents of dawn winery didn’t know any better they’d think he was possessed and required an immediate exorcist.

adelinde refuses to see her precious baby sink his eyes into ruin purely because he’s out secretly patrolling once he wakes up in the middle of the night to clear his head. you’re always there with him throughout the night: but why does it still feel so empty regardless?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST ?

diluc is no pushover or people pleaser; if you were guilty, then you’re guilty and he’ll wait all the time in the world till you eventually own up and apologise (please let that come sooner or later though otherwise he’ll give into ruin and sip alcohol for a breather). otherwise, if its his fault, or no ones and it was a mere misunderstanding, the silent treatment lasts for a day. not any longer not any less; he doesn’t allow it to.

he’s more than happy to wait forever for you but gods if he ever made a mistake that accidentally led you to elongating this supposed transient silence till the end of time, diluc would much rather swallow his pride and give his all to you. you’re worth more than pettiness, and he’ll prove that to you once you wake up and get greeted with all your favourite luxuries and a bright, relieved smile on his face.

EULA — 优菈

you’re beyond delusion if you think this woman won’t turn this into a healthy-ish competition of sorts.

you wish to avoid her for days on end? she’s already used to the world avoiding her mere gaze, she can withstand the somber feeling of having the one person who’s fully understood her as the complex person she is self-isolating from her for a little while.

never mind, no, she literally can’t. come back to her right now. we have problem right? lets talk about it, isn’t that what you taught her in the first place? what do you mean you need a break and want to clear your head for a while to not hurt her feelings? you think eula of all people cares about something like that?

she’d rather you spit at her than withstand another hour of this mindless nonsense.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

she doesn’t apologise unless she sees whatever caused this perilous argument in the first place truly hurt you and you ended up in tears; otherwise whats the use in pointless words when you can easily hug it out and call it a day?

she lets you apologise under the guise of “if you don’t, my vengeance towards you will be greater than my foes”, but in reality? eula is hardly paying any attention to the words slipping past your lips. all she’s thinking about is how she’ll be able to shake off this uneasy tension that’s somehow been created between you two.

WANDERER — 流浪者

you can’t tell which one of you needed this little breather more, after all, you’d hope scara would allow himself to soften after distancing from you after a while, and scara hoped you’d see reason within your argument and eventually, as always, forgive him.

but forgiveness is a two way straight in the way most people subconsciously ignore; does he and could he ever forgive himself? that image of your teary eyed face, the harsh puffs of breath you heaved to prevent any more molten venom to burn his plastic skin, the slight clenching of your jaw, fuck it hurt.

he couldn’t admit it at the time, but right now after being forcefully peeled away from you for about week and forcing auntie nahida to listen to his venting rambles? he wished he just gave it all up and did something: anything at all. kissed you, hugged you, consoled you, swiped your tears away with his thumbs, fluttered his eyelashes on your cheek gently as he whispered an i love you.

yet all he could do right now was wait.

wait until you hopefully came back, he couldn’t face you. if you abandoned him he’d deal with it. the petals on the floor and the hushed whispers of “they love me, they love me not” are just hallucinations from his worried caregiver, he swears.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

never would he stoop so low as to apologise.

verbally. that is. if he’s aware that he’s in the wrong (believe me that look on your face does wonders for trying to figure out whats on your mind) he’ll begrudgingly come up with some covert way of making it up to you. he doesn’t want to be stuck in this immortalised silence forever; believe me, he likes your talking more than he realises and this little test trial of abandonment was more than enough proof that your existence within his life is essential.

if you’re not there standing by his side, what even is the point in that fraudulent pacemaker of his? your laughter is in the same shape of his heartbeat; if you’re not here, he’s just back to being that dumb little puppet cuddled ashore in the slim darkness of the night.

K. AYATO — 神里绫人

bile builds up in ayato’s throat, eyes threatening to spill hazardous tears on his paperwork. he HATES being away from you. yes, you’ll be back comfortably in his arms with a kiss on your forehead soon…but time isn’t making that “soon” come any quicker and it’s killing him.

‘silence’ is only the act of not speaking, right? so he’s technically allowed to sneak in pastries onto your desk when you’ve gone to take a break — he’s also most certainly allowed to write down his frustrations about not being able to be overly affectionate with you and then pitifully sliding them under your door in hopes you’ll read them and maybe write one back.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

he desperately tries to convince himself that if he works long enough, he’ll forget the hollowing feeling in his heart that’s left in the silhouette of you. he puts down his calligraphy pen with an exasperated sigh, rubbing his temples with rough motions as if to completely rid himself of any lingering thought of you.

that’ll never work, and ayato thinks you two have calmed down enough so therefore he trudged his way into your room, knocking of course, and sat down with you for a lengthy but beneficial conversation.

without a doubt, ayato will be the one to apologise first. whether it’s a conscious decision or not completely depends on how long he’s been away from you; at some point you just fall back into regular routine completely by accident.

GOROU — 五郎

he’s glad you’ve decided to take this sort of approach to your relationship instead of having a painful battle of the wits with him but right now, he’d withstand a thousand hours of scolding than the way his fellow soldiers worryingly clutter around their little general and ask about his well-being purely because those furry ears atop his bundle of bed hair decided to stay drooped down all week.

but he can’t help it! he’s utterly miserable! you didn’t even give him your complimentary “good morning, have fun at work, be safe” kiss before he left the door in the static quiet of your abode. to top this torture off? you haven’t pet him once, and while he’d normally revel in not being treated like an actual lap dog…you’re a huge exception in that rule!

unfortunately, it’s not like he can just outright demand attention from you merely because he’s feeling a bit down on his luck. you asked for peace, he’ll give it to you. he’s a war veteran but treats you like a flower thats sprouted on a ruined patch of sand.

ehem, but please come back to him soon. please?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

whatever it takes to get your pretty hand to ruffle through his brunette locks he’ll do, he doesn’t care if the apology consists of him kneeling down on pitifully shaking his head near your thigh with his lips puckered into a pout. shame doesn’t exist within your relationship right? he’s more than willing to apologise first regardless of who was to blame.

if the argument was a little more serious however, he’ll sit down you on your couch that holds so many sweet significant memories within your mind, his head resting atop your collarbone and tail sneakily swishing from side to side now that your heartbeat was so clear to him. he’ll hear you out, talk through it, but more importantly, love and appreciate you.

TARTAGLIA — 公子

nuh uh. you think you’re getting silence with someone like him around? unless one or both of you fucked up really bad, tartaglia can’t see the point in silent ignorance; if you want to ignore him to personally calm down? sure, do whatever you want honey, you’re still getting treated like the other piece of his heart that you are.

if you’re genuinely annoyed he can leave you alone…for maybe two hours thirty minutes max. he loves you so much, talk to him, he doesn’t care if you insult him out of anger, lash out at him if you must. so long as you return into his arms so he can sway you around within his tender embrace and pepper your face with kisses, he’ll be more than happy and satisfied.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

him all day — call it the big brother complex with having to always apologise first whenever he got into a slight squabble or disagreement with his siblings when he were younger, or call it pure unadulterated love for you and the refusal to continue with this pointless staring battles whenever you guys were sitting across from each other.

whatever it is, just know he takes your feelings seriously regardless of the teasing grin across his face when you try not to squirm from the way his hand traveled from across your waist to the slither of exposed stomach. he just wants to assure you that his love won’t ever fade even if it becomes so deliberately one sided. he’s yours, after all.

LYNEY — 林尼

he’s used to eerie silence that bellowed icy winds against his ears, used to the tension that forced out his fight or flight response, but currently all he could do was freeze and overthink. how come this silence seemed so much more deafening than usual?

lyney doesn’t want this worse than capital punishment torture to continue without at least the slightest bit of laughter mingled into both of your days; he tries his best to curve your lips to even the slightest twenty degree lift using whatever he could. silly little flower reappearing trick there, a sneaky kiss to the side of your neck here; just any fleeting desperate attempt for some reciprocation on your part.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

lyney’s used to apologising first given his experiences within the house of hearth and the father herself. so imagine his surprise when you both incidentally stammer over one another as you two splutter apologies helplessly. god he’s so happy your relationship is built open gushes of giggles instead of the splats of tears because if it weren’t for that cute little accident? lyney was sure the second you opened your lovely lips to speak he would’ve teared up.

he missed that voice telling him constant i love yous, the affectionate cradling of his face against your neck and the way you wouldn’t hesitate to hold his flushed face within your cooling hands to comfort him after a particularly stress inducing performance.

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

you left the conversation with an “i love you.” so he knows that you’ll come back to him.

however, the last time he blindly trusted the comforting words of a loved one, it ended with blood on his hands and a lengthy sentence at the fortress of meropide. luckily for his heart and your own, he knows your charms and honeyed words aren’t for show and truly mean something.

wriothesley respects your boundaries and wishes to the t, he won’t speak to you like nothing at all happened but that doesn’t mean he won’t be overly cautious when it comes to your behavioural patterns. if he notices this sentence of silence is clearly taking its toll on you, he will, with no hesitation, talk everything out with you.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

depending on the argument, he’ll apologise first. if it’s rather undeniable that you were the one in the wrong however, he’ll explain his feelings thoroughly until you apologise — the standard. he doesn’t want this silence to end till the fortress of meropide overflows with primordial water so once you see multiple guards on your case more than ever, just know he’d like to talk to you.

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

fontaine has been drenched in rain for the past couple of days. every hour, every minute, every second neuvillette spends alone in his office makes him realise just how grand and solemn it is. everything is so mundane and banal…even the cheerful mutters and chatters of the sweet melusines couldn’t bring a smile to his face — much to the dismay of the little sigewinne who even so kindly brought him a cake to cheer him up…

what makes it even worse is that everything reminds him of you…and oh god the muddied clouds have once again been cursed with rain. this unquenchable thirst for your presence cannot be ignored by a mere sip from his intricate cup and being the ever so carefully mindful iudex, neuvillette sees it more than fit to call this hopeless game of silence to quits.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

regardless of who’s in the wrong, neuvillette apologises first. he’s sorry for letting this go so far, he should’ve just trusted his gut and returned to your side even if it meant having to persuade you with his clever tongue or the coiling of his draconic tail around your leg to pull you sweetly closer.

honestly, if he could, he’d make this a punishment in the fortress of meropide for every couple. you committed a petty, technically non offensive crime? well instead of doing some charity work for the city, you’re not allowed by the side of your beloved for a few weeks.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

a bunny within the jaws of a spring locked beast thinking it can persuade the tides in their favour with silence? arlecchino is amused you’d think such cheap tomfoolery would work to solve through your problems.

“darling, come here,” she taps her lap with her blood-stained nail, her eyes looking up at you greedily to soak up every single jitter of your movements as you alas fall onto your rightful throne, “my dumb bunny,” arlecchino coos at you with that devilishly low hum of her voice. “do you think the phrases ignorance is bliss, distance brings fondness, truly work within our relationship?”

arlecchino painfully grasps at your waist, that grip only loosening once you comfortably situate yourself on her thighs and lace your arms around her neck per routine. “i’d expect this behaviour from my children at the house of hearth, not you, angel.” she nibbles on your earlobe deliberately, forcing your lips to part just the way she likes. that perfect look of both surprise and desire; it’s a gorgeous display of your vulnerability.

“explain to me your problems, or else we can be at this forever.”

no such thing as the silent treatment when the very epitome of a wordless shadow has betrothed you.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

[igbylicious]

knockout [woosan x reader]

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, boxer au, friends with benefits

summary: Wooyoung invites you over to play after San wins his latest match.

wc: 3.9k

warnings: boxer San, manager Wooyoung, threesome, consensual somnophilia (San is the one asleep), blow job, hand job, spit kink, face-sitting, cunnilingus, face-fucking, choking on cock, cumplay (eating and sharing), dirty talk, San has bruises, they use the pet names ‘baby’ and ‘good girl’ for you but no pronouns, reader wears a dress, established Woosan, San is whiny while he sleeps but gets cocky when awake, Wooyoung is a mischievous lil’ shit (affectionate) the whole way through

a/n: my first ateez fic! please consider a like/reblog if you like it (❁´◡`❁)

-☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧-

Your phone buzzes late at night, and you already know who it is before looking. You tear yourself away from the TV and check your messages, where you find a selfie from Wooyoung.

His hair is getting longer, pushed back with sunglasses resting on top of his head. (Even though it’s already dark out. Poser.) He wears a black-and-white shirt with a busy pattern and just one button too many undone, a heavy silver necklace around his neck. But all of that is just a sideshow to the main point of the selfie; Wooyoung is winking cheekily at the camera, holding up a big wad of cash. San won the match.

does this mean takeout is on you guys next time? you text him. After a brief pause you add, also congratulations i guess

(But the dismissive tone is just for show, riling each other up a natural part of your relationship with Wooyoung. You’re smiling as you press send, knowing how much a win means to him and San, how hard they work for it.)

Your phone buzzes again. you should come over

for takeout?

idk about takeout but there’s definitely a meal in it for you 😏😜😘🍆💦

You can’t decide whether to grin or roll your eyes at the message and its string of emojis at the end, but you do send Wooyoung an affirmative text back. Your face decides on a grin as you put your phone down, a spark of excitement coursing through you. Guess you’re going out tonight after all.

This thing between you and San and Wooyoung has been going on long enough that usually you don’t even bother dressing up for them anymore, but hey, it’s a special occasion, right? So you slip on some lacy panties and wiggle into a cute dress, and do a quick check in the mirror to make sure you’re looking at least halfway decent. (Not too much fuss. Wooyoung did text you in the middle of the night.)

Just before you go, your phone buzzes one last time; Wooyoung warns you to send a text once you get to the apartment, not ring the door. At first you do not give it too much thought; they do live in a crappy old place, might just be that the doorbell is broken.

But then the added photo loads, and you see San is conked out on the couch, sitting with spread legs and his head lolled back, mouth slightly hanging open. Apparently he hasn’t even changed clothes since the match, wearing a dirty white tank top and a smattering of bruises across his tanned skin. His dark hair is a mess, pretty lips set in a natural pout while he sleeps.

Immediately, a fresh buzz of excitement surges through you. There is a whole new layer of thrill to this invitation now.

After driving over, you send Wooyoung a text that you’ve arrived. He opens the door for you with a bright grin, and puts a quick finger to his lips to indicate you have to be quiet. His sunglasses have disappeared somewhere between making a selfie and your arrival, saving him a roasting from you. He gives your dress an appreciative once-over, and casually kisses your cheek as he lets you in, resting his hand on the small of your back. His good mood is incredibly obvious, fingers brushing against the top of your ass.

You slip off your shoes and step further into the apartment. The place is a bit messy as always, furnished with a combo of thrift-shop finds, stuff they won off bets, and random things donated by friends. (Even their old van is a hand-me-down, though you have no idea where they got it from.)

The result is a home that’s chaotic, but friendly. Shelves piled with keepsakes, stories attached to everything they own. And for all the messiness, at least they do keep it somewhat clean.

There is a desk in the corner, with a few neat piles of paper money on top. Clearly Wooyoung was in the middle of counting — and accounting, his books laying open with a pen next to them. Despite all his antics, Wooyoung is actually pretty responsible with money. He knows that he needs to be, never sure when they’ll get their next win. (You suspect they run a few less-than-legal stints on the side, but neither seems too keen on making that their main gig.)

And then there is San, sitting on their old couch. Still fast asleep.

“Look how tired,” Wooyoung murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “He worked so hard today, I thought we should reward him. How about it, hm? Don’t you think he deserves a prize for taking home the victory?”

You lick your lips, a sharp craving growing in the pit of your stomach at the sight of San’s soft, sleeping face. As far as you are concerned, you are the one getting a prize here. It’s been a long time since you last had the chance to indulge in this particular kink; it can be tricky to coordinate when you don’t actually live in the same house.

And San makes such pretty noises when he’s asleep.

Wooyoung grins at the expression on your face. “Good girl,” he whispers indulgently, pressing one last kiss on your cheek before he playfully slaps your ass, pushing you towards the couch.

You glare back at him, even if the slap sent a crackle of pleasure through you. Just out of principle, to let Wooyoung know he can’t get away with everything. (He can absolutely get away with everything.)

But then you shift your focus to San, getting on your knees in front of him as quietly as possible. He usually is a deep sleeper but still, you are not about to risk waking him too early. You do take a moment to just look at him; to take in the way his broad chest moves with slow, even breaths.

The hard, battered muscles of his body are completely relaxed now, arms laying uselessly on the couch. There are marks on his knuckles, and it’s odd to think he was using those same fists to beat someone up, all for a cash prize, just a mere few hours ago. He looks so soft now. Not for the first time, you marvel at how handsome he is, the sharp cut of his jawline, pronounced cheekbones and pouty lips. So damn gorgeous, even with bruises marring his face, a particularly nasty one on the corner of his mouth. You want to kiss it, but you tuck that thought away for later.

San’s legs are already conveniently spread for you to shuffle close; could be a happy coincidence, could be that San was expecting this. Expecting you.

(This was a conversation you had long ago, where he’d given you a free pass to ‘wake’ him if an opportunity presented itself. It is entirely possible that he and Wooyoung discussed this before contacting you, and something about the idea of San falling asleep while thinking of your mouth on his dick makes you squirm in the best way.)

You press a hand against the front of his sweats, feeling the outline of his cock. You squeeze it with a light touch, give the impressive length a gentle stroke, and delight at the little “Hmm” that San sighs out.

Encouraged by the sound, you pull down the waistband of San’s sweats just enough so you can take his cock out, heavy in your hand. Still soft, though he gives a beautiful twitch when your thumb runs across a vein across the underside.

Your eyes glance up when Wooyoung sits down, just as carefully as you had been. He is slouched next to San with an arm slung across the back of the couch, fingers ghosting against San’s hair but never touching, while he raises his other hand to bite at his thumb. Uncharacteristically quiet, watching with rapt attention.

Heat pools between your thighs, you love being on display for him, teasing a sleeping San. You’re keenly aware of how your dress has ridden up, your ass sticking out, your neckline low enough for an ample view of your cleavage — though you’re sure it’s your hand that has Wooyoung’s full attention right now, wrapped around his lover’s slowly hardening dick.

You gather saliva in your mouth, then let it dribble down on your fingers and San’s cock. He moans, shifting slightly, lips parting a little wider as you take advantage of the easier slide of your palm. The sound goes right to your core; San’s moans are just a bit shallower when he is asleep, a bit more high-pitched. More needy.

More noises start to slip from his lips as you slowly stroke the length of his thick cock, thumb playing against his slit. Sometimes his hips shift to follow your movement, but he does not wake, his conscious mind unaware of your fist working him to full hardness.

San is getting beautifully flushed, a redness blooming across his cheeks and neck as he lets out a faint whimper, brow furrowed. It is always a fun game, to see how far you can take him before he wakes up — before you are treated to that toe-curling moment of aroused disorientation on San’s face, that split-second where he can’t quite figure out why he is so fucking horny until he sees you, nested between his thighs, and a sleepy yet cocky grin breaks out on his face.

But it’s not come so far yet; San is still under the hold of his tired slumber. His breath hitches as your fist twists around the head of his cock, almost like a little hiccup, precum mingling with your spit. You know you can’t hold off your impatience for much longer.

Wooyoung is still staring, though his eyes wander between San’s cock and the wiggle of your ass, his cheeky tongue dipping out to wet his lips. His gaze is heated, intense, and the slight asymmetry of his eyelids makes his stare only more attractive and striking, dotted by the little mole under his eye. He worries his bottom lip with his teeth as he watches, but grins when he catches you watching him in turn. He leans forward, elbow on his knees, and beckons for you to offer your hand.

You do so, and watch how Wooyoung decadently works his mouth and lets a thick globule of spit fall past his lips, onto your waiting palm. His grin widens when you moan weakly as his saliva mingles with yours, with San’s precum, and generously gives you more until your hand is messy and slick. Finally satisfied, Wooyoung leans back with a flirty wink.

You make good use of Wooyoung’s ‘contribution’, pumping San just a little faster now. His noises start to pick up, face contorted with unaware pleasure as a small trail of drool escapes the corner of his mouth. It won’t be long now before he wakes. Honestly, you are surprised it has lasted this long at all; San’s fight must have been particularly strenuous tonight.

Just when you contemplate whether it’s time to get your tongue involved, Wooyoung suddenly gets up from the couch.

You try not to get distracted by him moving around behind you, keeping your focus on San, but then you feel a little tap against your ass. You turn your head to see him lying on his back, head between your feet with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Lift your ass up, he mouths and gestures simultaneously.

You do exactly that, allowing Wooyoung to slide under you with his hands on your waist, his face right underneath the flimsy scrap of lace that covers your dripping core, barely worth the name ‘underwear’. “Seriously?” you whisper, though even just the sight of him, raised eyebrow and ready to eat you out, has more arousal leaking into your panties.

“Hey, San isn’t the only one who worked hard for this match,” Wooyoung whispers quietly, wetting his lips. “Don’t I deserve a reward, too?”

Well… If Wooyoung’s idea of a reward is to have you ride his face, then who are you to deny him? You really keep getting the better deal out of their hard-earned victory. Still, you roll your eyes at him, just to let him know how ridiculous you think he’s being, though the increasingly damp spot on your underwear tells Wooyoung all he needs to know.

He lets out a pleased, dark chuckle as you lower yourself down, his hands gripping tighter onto your waist as he positions you for the best angle. He does not even bother to pull the scrap of lace aside, happily eating you out through it.

San whines when your fingers squeeze around him, liquid oozing from the tip, his hips stuttering lightly before he settles back down. His cock is flushed dark, pulsing in your hand, but it is hard to focus on him right now. A lazy hand continues to stroke him while you struggle to focus on anything but Wooyoung’s muffled moans against your sopping heat.

You bite your lip to keep silent, hips moving on their own accord as Wooyoung’s nose presses against your clit, his mouth undeterred by the obstruction of lace as he makes a sloppy mess of your cunt, eagerly lapping away.

Wooyoung is rarely this quiet, but today he foregoes his usual dirty talk and running commentary to direct his full attention on reducing you to a mindless mess. He is a fiend with his mouth either way, thick swipes of his tongue and grazing teeth, mouth suckling at you through the now-ruined lace.

It takes all your self-control to stay on task, to not get distracted by the sound of a zipper, and soon after the wet noise of Wooyoung jerking himself off, still moaning against your leaking cunt. You shake yourself out of it, wrapping your lips around just the head of San’s cock, licking at the steady stream of precum while you use both hands to work his length. He twitches in your mouth, and for a moment you wonder if he’s going to cum without even waking up at all.

But then Wooyoung uses his nose to nudge your panties aside and sucks directly at your clit, and you moan loudly around San’s cock at the sudden stimuli.

San starts awake at the vibration, his hips reflexively jerking forward. You happily meet his thrust to gag on him, making San hiss a throttled curse. “F-fuck, what’s-ahhh—”

His hand flies to your hair, instinctively holding you in place. Your eyes tear up as he hits the back of your throat and stays there, but you can still glance upward to look at him — and he’s a fucking sight to behold. Bleary-eyed and disoriented, his mouth slack and panting hard for breath as he tries to get his bearings. Eyes landing on you, his cock twitching as understanding dawns. The moment is every bit as beautiful as you had imagined.

“Look who it is, Sannie,” Wooyoung grins when he notices San is awake, taking a break from tongue-fucking you. “Came over just to congratulate you. Ain’t that sweet?”

“Fuck,” San chokes out, his voice gravelly from sleep. He hisses sharply when you hollow your cheeks and give a light suck, drawing a low groan. Slowly, the sleep retreats from his eyes and is replaced by a dark alertness, though his face is still flushed, his body tired.

Lazily, he lets you continue doing what you do, only stroking your hair in encouragement as he releases you, letting you return to shallower bobs of your head. “Fuck, baby, just like that,” he groans, biting his lip. Once again, your attention is drawn to the bruise on the corner of his mouth, aching to be kissed — but your own mouth is preoccupied. Later, you promise yourself. There will be time for that later.

As expected, San’s moans are a little deeper now he is awake, slowly rocking his hips as he watches you take him further with every pass of your mouth. You wonder if he’s even aware of the difference in his sounds, or if that’s just a little secret for you and Wooyoung to know.

Speaking of Wooyoung — now that he doesn’t have to keep quiet for San, he gets talkative again. “Use me, baby,” he groans, his fingers digging into your ass. “Come on, ride me a little harder. Don’t be shy. Smear that wet pussy all over my face.”

You don’t need to be told twice, enthusiastically granting Wooyoung’s request. He moans happily as you fuck yourself on his tongue, any further words muffled between your thighs. You’d worry about whether Wooyoung can even breathe, except he has a death-grip on your hips and refuses to let you slow down. His nose repeatedly bumps into your clit, sending sparks through you every time, your moans reverberating around San.

San grunts at the feeling, voice husky and low. But as attractive as the sound is… some part of you wants to hear his whimper again. Just to see if you can make him do it.

Well. There are a few sure-fire ways you know to push San to the very limit and beyond — and one of them is immediately available to you.

He was already pushing deep inside your mouth, but you do your best to relax your throat and surge forward, your nose brushing his pelvis as you choke yourself on his cock, then pull back to do it again. And again. A lewd, wet gurgle filling the room every time, your throat constricting as you strain around his thick shaft, tears burning in your eyes.

San groans at your renewed efforts, a greed shining in his sharp eyes when he realises what you’re doing, what you are asking him to do. His fingers scrape your scalp as they embed tighter around the strands of hair. Recognising the unspoken invitation to fuck your mouth as hard as he wants.

“That’s it,” he growls, “you know how I like it. Choke on my cock, hm? I’ll stuff you until you can’t breathe.”

You can barely breathe already; it’s hard to pull in air through your nose like this, with San steadily rocking his hips forward. You go slack in his hold, just letting him use you to his liking, trying to curl your tongue around the underside of his cock in the way you know drives him up the wall.

Wooyoung makes a noise when you slump down on his face, and you try to catch yourself but he won’t have it, only sucking more eagerly onto your clit as he grabs onto your thighs to keep you in place. You moan loudly, and San curses in response, his breath getting pitchy.

It’s working, you realise. It’s not as much as when he is asleep, but slowly a whiny lilt creeps into San’s voice as he uses your throat, his face contorted with pained pleasure.

Your head starts to spin, the barrage of sensations threatening to overwhelm you. Slick sounds and deep moans, a heady scent of arousal permeating the air. San’s cock obstructing your breath, his little whines; Wooyoung’s tongue nimbly flicking against your clit, his hands squeezing at the soft meat of your thighs. You’re tilting, slowly but surely, right over the edge when Wooyoung sucks harshly, exactly when San whimpers.

It hits you like a freight train, the violent force of it enough to have you sobbing around San’s cock. You tremble and shake as electricity surges through you, only held up by San and Wooyoung’s hold on you.

Your garbled cries take San over the edge with you, though he still has enough restraint to pull back slightly, no longer nudging against your gag reflex. He shudders with a tight hiss, clumsy fingers catching in your hair as he spills hot seed inside your mouth.

You almost choke again; it’s messy, and there is a lot, leaving you to wonder if San has been abstaining before the match. Lately you certainly haven’t done more with them than casual texts or hangouts, but can make no assumptions about what he and Wooyoung get up to when you’re not around.

You try your best not to swallow it down — and not spill a single drop, either. At the latter, you don’t succeed entirely, a thin wet trail dribbling down your lips when San pulls out and slumps back onto the couch with a final, loud groan. But when Wooyoung gets out from underneath to sit next to you, and pushes a thumb on your bottom lip to show him, you can proudly stick out your tongue to him, sticky whiteness on display.

“Good girl,” Wooyoung purrs, fondly cupping your cheek. “Don’t even need me to tell you anymore, huh? So well-behaved for us.”

You moan contently at the praise, and again when Wooyoung eagerly puts his lips on you, sloppily lapping up San’s cum from your chin, your lips, until his tongue invades your mouth for a proper meal. You can taste yourself on him while Wooyoung tastes San, who is watching it all with a small, cocky grin, teeth flashing at you.

Wooyoung lets out a needy moan as he drinks deep, his tongue sliding against yours in a heady dance. He grabs for your hand, guiding you down to his still-hard cock, hot and weeping precum. Your fingers are still messy and slick, making it easy for you to jerk him off while he continues to hungrily kiss you, licking up every last drop he can reach.

It’s less of a challenge to make Wooyoung whimper, but the sound is no less exciting for it, his high-pitched moans like music to your ears. He cums messily in your hand, some spilling onto your dress. With a final bite to your bottom lip, he pulls away from your mouth, eyes heavy-lidded and looking thoroughly fucked out, lips swollen and shiny from the essences of both you and San. You grin at him, lifting your hand to suck his cum off your fingers.

Only then do you turn to San, who is indulging himself with slow strokes on his cock while he still watches you and Wooyoung intently.

“Congratulations on the match,” you say casually, cum-stained fingers lingering on your lips.

San’s grin returns to his face and he grabs your hand to pull you into his lap…where you finally get to kiss that bruise on the corner of his mouth. He winces as you press up to him, and you can hear Wooyoung grouse next to you.

“Be careful with him, alright? That’s my meal ticket you got there,” he complains, dusting himself off as he gets back on his feet.

But San wraps his arms around you, keeping you captive. “You don’t have to be that careful,” he murmurs against your mouth, his hands firmly planted on your ass as he grinds you against his crotch. The night is not over quite yet.

-☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧-

An indeterminate time and a thorough shower later, you are sitting snugly between San and Wooyoung on their shabby old couch. They graciously borrowed you some clothes, leaving you cosily wrapped in a pair of San’s sweats and one of Wooyoung’s oversized hoodies. In your hands you have freshly delivered takeout, enjoying a hot meal together with the guys.

Their treat, of course.

[marrycv]

Muse

rockstar!ellie x reader

warnings : SMUT!!, no to consentement (happened with a men ellie saved us), alcohol, ✂️✂️✂️, swearing, age gab? (ellie be like 2-3 years older), thigh riding (r ! receiving), fingering (r ! receiving)

idk if thats all but i worked hard on this one 😜

enjoy!!

—

“Cmonnnnn we’re gonna be late!!”

“not my fault you took 2 hours in the shower?”

you and your bestfriend were getting ready for that little concert that was in your city. it was so rare you had finally something fun to do, and the best part of it, is that your favourite band was gonna be there. you were so excited to go there, but your bestfriend was just making you nervous, in the worst way ever.

you had a denim mini skirt with a lace crop top in black with some leather jacket, classic ‘rockstar girlfriend’ outfit if you’d search it on pinterest. but, it was a rock show anyways, so you were fitting in that vibe.

you had a little smug eyeliner with some star glitter around your eyes. your best friend has some too. exited by the fact that you two were matching like some 13 years old teenagers.

“okay, im ready”

“about time!! now come on, i dont wanna arrive while its crowded, wanna have the best view” she tells you while bringing you outside towards her car

“girl did you know my fav band are gonna be here??”

“ugh omg you said it at least one thousand times…” she sighs

“okay okay, will you be less annoyed when i tell you they look like this :” you said as you showed her the guitarists and the singer. they were 3 and your age. absolutely gorgeous people.

“YOOOOOOOOO!!!” Layla said, looking at the picture of the three bend’s members.

“rightttt?!!!”

“okay but look at the men?”

“his name is Jesse, one of the guitarist. currently dating the other guitarist” you informed her, for only her smile dropping at the deception.

“look, thats the singer” you continue “her name’s Ellie, and shes SO fucking hot, and shes gay”

“lesbian?” she asks you while she starts driving towards the location for tonight.

“yeah, literally everyone who listen to their music is because all the fans envy her. i dont blame them tho”

“what about the other guitarist?” she asks you, now interested in them

“Its Dina, Ellie’s ex”

“WHAAAAAT ??? nowayyyy”

you two laugh at the drama you shared to layla. it was funny gossiping and her finally showing some interest in what you liked.

-

arrived there, it was already crowded. nobody was on stage yet, but it was definitely bigger than you expected.

you friend touched your shoulder, knowing how much noisy places made you so uncomfortable.

“what aboouuuuuut we get VIP tickets for a quieter place mhh?”

“Layla? its too expensive i cant afford that, ill just- support it” you tell her, looking at your phone trying to distract yourself

“too late babe i bought us some” she says, looking at you with the biggest smile. eyes disappearing and teeth showing. She was your sunshine.

“whaaat? you shouldn’t have- im gonna repay you when i can okay?”

“nuh huh, its our night and my gift, okay?”

you nod and smile, worries erased by her gentle smile.

it was true, it was you guy’s night, and no anxiety would take that away.

In the VIP room, there was mostly middled aged men with some really young, but beautiful girls in their company. all already wasted. from here, you could be so close to the stage you thought if the artists would be close enough, you could touch them. you also had access to the backstage, which was an insane opportunity.

some normal people, like your age hanging out with people their age were also in the VIP. it was less awkward with all of those creepy men probably were ‘sugar daddies’

“im gonna grab us a drink ill be back, yeah?” layla whisper-screams in your ears then vanishes to the bar.

you look around you, analyzing the people. then get on your phone, just to seem lees alone.

“Hey you gorgeous lady, would you mind some company?” a raspy voice said

you look towards the voice and see a men, probably 25 years old, but obviously drunk and maybe also high.

“i already have company, but thanks” you said, gently, not wanting anything to happen.

“oh, but i dont see anyone babygirl…” he said as he leaned closer to you while you backed off a little.

his eyes widen, completely surprised by your non interested move.

“im not gonna bite youuu, only if you ask me to” he says and winks at you while touching your arm, going closer and closer to your breast.

“um.. no thanks..” you said, trying to get away, searching around for layla’s figure somewhere around…

“why are you so fucking rude? huh? cant even be happy someone wants to be with you mh? ‘lil slut..” he said as his grip on your arm was tightening, probably gonna leave a mark after.

“please-“ you started but got cut by someone else, behind you two

“she said no man”

the men looks behind him, feeling his grip on your arm going insanely tight. you hiss by the pain.

“she’s with me” he answers to the girl you yet didn’t dare to look at, feeling embarrassed by this whole situation

“are you with this man, miss?” the girl asked you.

her tone completely shifting from raspy, loud and angry to sweet and gentle. making you look up from the ground to see the Ellie Williams defending you. you answer her a small ‘no’. scared if you talked louder the men would take away your arm at this point. or scared you’d cry from anger. the tight feeling you felt in your throat was cutting your voice to get through, if the knot would get destroyed, you’d probably sob right here, but it would only get tighter, feeling like it was taking the oxygen away from your lungs. feeling like it was choking you so it couldn’t pass anymore. would only make your heart beat slower due to the little air you were able to breathe. but you felt like it was beating faster, like you just ran kilometers and stopped suddenly. making your body react in a bad way in the sudden change.

but that was only a feeling.

you just looked, away.

you could hear Ellie yell at the men until his grip on you left to only see his arm swing towards ellie’s face. only that she dodged his punch smoothly. almost satisfying to watch her doing it like she was the finest fighter in the world.

but the slowmo and the muffled voices stopped and when Ellie punched him. Everything was too loud and too clear.

blood getting out of the man’s mouth. attacking Ellie back. everyone screaming and getting away from the fight, creating a non purpose circle.

suddenly it wasn’t a rock show, but a fight show.

Once Ellie completely knocked out the men, him completely passed out on the ground, blood all over his face. she went towards you

“You okay?” she asked, gently as she didnt even just fought with someone like she was gonna kill him.

you simply nodded to her, shocked by this whole situation, never wanting it to end up this way.

“come with me, yeah? ill get you some water and… clean you up” she said looking at your cheek, having some blood on it.

you just followed her into her lodge. it was quiet and cozy.

nobody was in there, but you were kinda nervous about the fact that you were literally with a celebrity.

“sit down” she obeyed.

you sat on the closest chair you saw, following her orders like a dog, still under shock.

ellie took a glass and poured water in it, placed it on the table next to you, then took a small towel and again, put water on it. she came real close to you, her head titled on the side a little bit, her fingers took your chin and made your head move a little bit on the side. she took the towel and took the blood away from your cheek. probably the men’s blood. ellie didn’t have one single scratch. only her knuckles were brushed.

you watched her taking care of you like a little kitten she had found on the road and just, felt bad for it.

her eyes were concentrated on what she was doing, her fingers touching you so gentle, so softly. her bottom lip between her teeth due to the concentration. she might looked so rough earlier, but here? she was the softest person you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“here..” she said as she stopped what she was doing. she sat next to you, with concerned eyes. she suddenly cared so much about you.

“thanks” you whispered, looking down to the glass of water in front of you.

“dont thank me, this guy was an asshole. are you hurt?” she asked looking at your arm, knowing he was holding it.

“if i were you id worry more about your hands” you said looking at them, all bloody and swallowed.

“its okay, dont worry about me…” She said getting up to grab some ice for your arm

“no, take it.” you said, putting it on her fingers trying to ease her pain from defending you.

the room went silent, a comfortable silence. the ones where you didnt rush do say anything or where you werent overthinking to find a subject to talk about.

Ellie on the other hand, was going insane. You were so pretty and you had a pin on your purse about their bands which meant that you were a fan. which meant you knew about her and listened to her music. the silence was driving her insane. she’d just wish she was a normal person who weren’t screaming for her name out there. screaming for her and the fact that they all wanted her. like she was theirs. but she didn’t want that. she wanted to be yours, and it wasn’t gonna be easy. she thought you were scared by her, she thought you saw her completely different now, that you’d stop listening about her being so so toxic with girls with the best beat dina and jesse could ever put to make everyone forget about how of an asshole she was.

about how the girl was hers but she wasnt the theirs. about how she just fucked the girl cause she was bored.

but now, you could saw her as a crazy girl that punches someone almost to death. someone dangerous.

you were just too pretty for this man, for this treatment. she would have done this for anyone, but taking care of them after? nahhh she wouldve just walked away.

“whats your name..?” Ellie asked, looking dead up in your eyes like she wasn’t going crazy on overthinking.

“my name’s ______” you tell her.

“im uh, im Ell-“

“Ellie Williams, yeah i know”

“of course you do..” she sighed at herself.

“fuck- i uh my friend… she’s gonna be dead worried!! fuck fuck” you say, completely on panic mode

“hey, hey, hey, its okay, just send her a message to let her know youre all good, im not letting you out there again, something worse could happen to you.” she says, in a stern tone.

“you worried about me Williams?” you ask her, calmed but surprised by her reaction, slightly titling your head a little bit. the small amount of alcohol in your system making you bolder than you ever could.

“believe it or not sweetheart, i care about my fans”

something in what you said activated Ellie’s dangerous side. she was gonna torture you and never let you go.

“dont you have a show you have to do? for the caring of your fans?”

“i believe they can wait a little bit, dont you think?” she smirked at you.

that goddamn smirk she’d have in those pinterest pictures of her if you searched up her name on the search bar. that smirk when she was on live and someone would tell how much they loved her. or when her fans would ask her to sign on their boobs.

that smirk.

“how disappointed i would be if i was one of those, knowing you were just sitting in here with someone you didnt even knew”

“mhhh i wouldnt care less doll”

you blushed at the nickname, you’d cringe if someone else would’ve called you like that, but the way she said made your panties grow a little wet spot faster than you thought your body could.

you shifted a little bit in your chair, uncomfortable by how sweaty you’ve just became.

“dont you think its hot.. in here?” you said, praying for her to not notice it was because of how much your heart was pumping, making you red everywhere.

“follow me” Ellie said, getting up and walking in another room. you were almost too shaking to even walk but you managed to make your way to ellie. she was in a small bedroom. how could you know lodges had bedrooms? no idea.

“we have those bedrooms if someone from the bend is tired or dont feel good, very useful. i think it was Beyoncé that asked that”

“you know beyoncé???” you asked completely amazed

“uhhh, no. im a small artist, not a pop star” she laughed and made herself comfortable on the bed.

you sat next to her, but shy enough to keep your distance away from her a little.

Ellie just grabbed a guitar that was hanging on the wall and started to play a little melody. her fingers stroking the strings so perfectly, making them some beautiful note and then you recognized the song. she was signing one of hers.

its like you were in a dream, the room was so dark but there was lights everywhere, hanging like a teenage room. making able to see everything with the most perfect lighting, you were able to see the intense shadows from ellie’s perfect muscles. aligned how it was made, like god modelled them himself with his own hands. the way she was just there looking at where her fingers were at to know what note to play next. her foot tapping around with the beat. her hair being lighten by the small yellow lights, making her auburn hair look way more softer than usual.

you couldn’t contain yourself at the sight.

“wanna try?” Ellie asked, handing you the guitar with smile on her lips… her perfect lips- ok stop this madness.

“i- i dont know how to play”

“ill teach you- here, put it on your legs…” she then got closer and took your hands to place them to make a chord. “and here is the chord C major” she smiled at you. “easy right?”

“sure, if i dont count the fact that my fingers are about to explose”

she looked at you and laughed, you did the same. you felt now so comfortable with her.

“alright..” she said,

“get in my lap imma teach you some other stuff.”

“huh?”

“the guitar, you trust me?”

she said, clarifying your dirty mind.

“uh yeah, i do” you said then sat in front of her, between her legs. she wrapped her arms around you and guided your fingers, showing you the chords. one by one.

her fingers felt sooo good on your skin, you were just wondering how good they felt inside of you.

you knew that what you were feeling was wrong, that you two just met but you couldn’t help to press your ass to her crutch. Ellie’s words stuttered, and so did yours. every words were slower and her mouvements were more sensual, if you werent delusional.

the tension just kept growing and only one more move and it could be done for the both of you.

she pressed her head in your shoulder. still teaching you. a hand on yours- guiding you and another on your hip… and she just made you get closer to her, as you could even get closer. you were trying to not moan at this point. what she was doing, ‘teaching’ you guitar and making your heart skip a beat, pretending like nothing else was happening, like it was just all in your imagination. but the feeling was so strong, so strong.

you felt her lips stroking against the skin of your neck while she was whispering you the instructions of the next chords.

crazy how an hour ago you were with your bestfriend, being exited about just seeing ellie live, and here you were, she was literally teaching you how to play guitar with hers. this felt all like it was some kind of prank, too good to be true, but you were just there to enjoy yourself at 100%.

Ellie’s hand on your hip was now playing around on your thigh, she’d tell you how good you were doing. she then moved her hand, painfully slow in your inner thigh. your breathing was speeding up like she was already in you…

she has just touch you so little.

you craved her so much.

you let her get higher, she stoked her fingers on your clothed cunt, could feel the wet spot on your panties that was growing since you got into her lodge.

“is this okay?” she asked you. scared she was taking everything too far, but you just pushed her hand closer to where you needed her the most.

Ellie took the guitar away from the both of you and turned you over so she could see your face.

your legs wrapped around her waist and now both of her hands were on your hips.

the atmosphere completely changed. it was romantic and comfortable 2 seconds ago, and now its so much more intense, the room feels hotter and your nervousness is on the top of your head controlling you to stay still.

“ellie…” you whined.

that made ellie so much more bold. her hands moved up from your hips to your cheeks, not forgetting to touch every part of your skin that was on the way. it wasn’t too slow and either too fast, just enough to realize she was getting closer and closer while her eyes switched on your eyes to your lips. you leaned in, like she was a magnet, pulling you towards her. her lips on yours felt the most right thing you’ve ever felt. they were so soft, so warm, so so tender against your lips. the kiss turned into a make out soon enough like it was a relief from all the tension that had built. her tongue dancing against yours, feeling this feeling of euphoria in your whole body, only catching yourself needed more and more.

unconsciously, your hips were rocking against any pressure you could find. ellie stopped her kisses to only replace them on your neck. you tilt your head to give her more access. you had no idea what you were doing, its like your body went into full control and your mind was just beyond the clouds, seeing the stars when her knee pressed against your clothed cunt. a moan and a a relief sigh escaped your lips.

all was happening so fast and ellie was taking your shirt off, as you were doing the same to her, like in those romantic movies when the two characters find eachothers and they get heated in the moment. like there wasn’t time, like you were late to somewhere.

ellie’s fingers found their way, once again on your clit.

“you mind if i take this off?” she asked, with a smirk, but you could see her cheeks blushing, her breath being fast… her hands shaking.

you nodded, way too speechless of the goddess in front of you

“words, i need words baby”

“take it off” you saw, looking at your legs that were still wrapped around ellie’s waist.

ellie layed you down on the bed, now on top of you, looking at you up and down, analyzing your body. she gently touched the hem of your skirt to take it off. you lifted your hips up to help her. her mouvement were painfully slow, as she was trying to make this sooo memorable.

your panties along with your hips were now on the floor of the room. laying with only your bra left.

ellie’s lips returned to yours, while you could feel her hands getting closer to where you needed her the most.

“ellie..?”

“yes, yes? what’s wrong?” she asked, genuine

“i uh.. can i ride on you?” you asked her, closing your eyes to try and hide yourself from the immense embarrassment you felt, but before you knew it, ellie stood up, you looked at her, clearly confused about what she was doing

to your surprise, she only stripped herself, finding her now completely naked. you could see her abs.. her biceps.. the ‘v’ kind of shape she had on her lower stomach.. her small, yet perfect boobs, only finding your mouth watering at the sight- and not only your mouth but your pussy was drenched too.

“are you gonna stop staring at me?” ellie asked as she climbed on top of you, kissing you- again

maybe she felt magnified to you too? just like you felt so attracted to her

you were winning in anticipation and excitement

naturally, her leg intertwined with one of yours so both of your clits were pressing against eachothers.

feeling her like that against you was heaven. grinding yourself against her was beyond beautiful. the scene was so pornographic that i’d create a new sin in the bible.

“els! im so.. close… fuck!!”

“me too, fuck.. together yeah?”

and just like that she gave a couple more trusts against you and you did the same, as your mouvements were synchronized, as if it was destiny to find her and make love with the love of your life.

you saw and felt fireworks, a big release escaped as you were almost screaming by pleasure. and ellie was just, amazed by your fucked expression she could cum again over and over by just being on top of you, looking at you this beautiful. she couldnt stop.

“els! please!” you said as you felt overstimulated by your previous orgasm.

“please give me another one, please.” ellie was begging at this point. as she needed it more than you, as she felt it in her.

she could go on and on, and you would let her abuse your cunt for the rest of your life if it felt like that.

[earlysunshines]

in a moment you and i

kim minji x fem!reader ; angst, fluff

synopsis: minji has two side hustles, one of them is swinging around the city and saving people and the other is admiring you from afar. little does she know, you’re also admiring her -- not that you're aware of it.

warnings: minji is spiderwoman!! and really just a nerd under that suit ; a very pretty, oblivious, adorable nerd ; blood and violence ; pining, slowburn kinda ; ending is a lil rushed and pacing is wack imo (sooory) ; wtv else i didn’t mention

a/n: i think its funny how she's mj (minji) but spiderwoman in this anyways I kekeke lmao lol ijbol thinking ab her in those fuckass (adorable beautiful amazing lovely cute) black frames,,,

kim minji might just be one of the smartest students in her class — she’s also the sleepiest one these days.

she is two seconds away from falling asleep in class because some people can’t seem to go a second without breaking the law, and the only web-slinging person who can stop them is her.

why would anyone break into ador labs at two in the morning on a weekday? because of this, minji had to spring out of bed in the dead of night, battling a gang of thieves for nearly two exhausting hours. by the time she had webbed them to the wall, called the police, and swung back home, she only had three hours before she had to be up again.

she even got pestered by hanni for taking so long while she waited outside the house. the younger girl had to wait a few extra minutes because minji had woken up late, it’s not like she wanted to lose a few hours of sleep. when she explained to hanni why she had applied concealer on the walk to school (hanni had been the first to know about everything going on with her and why her hands were sticking to everything the day after her little spider incident), the younger girl nodded and relented.

minji’s eyelids grow heavier with each blink, and soon enough they don’t open again as she falls asleep on her palm. minji’s already caught up with this unit, it won’t hurt to sleep a bit anyway – just a few minutes.

a few minutes fades into twenty and her head falls to her forearm in the middle of her nap.

“right, that wraps up class for today everyone. chapter thirteen is your homework, we’ll have a small quiz next class on it.” mr. lee says right as the bell rings. he looks over to minji, sighing as everyone starts to pack their bags. “and someone please wake up minji.”

no one seems to hear him, no one but you.

you catch minji near the window in the second row from the front. her hair falls over her face and only her nose pokes out, but you can see a little bit of her eye from where you’re standing. the empty seat hints that danielle isn’t here today, usually she’d be the one to wake minji up.

“hey, i’ll catch up with you later, okay?” you say to jungwon, who smiles and nods before rushing out the class. 

mr. lee doesn’t seem to notice minji, too absorbed in something on his laptop and the papers scattered across his desk. you walk over and tap her once—no response. you try again, with the same result. finally, you lightly grip her shoulder and give her a gentle shake to wake her up.

"huh, what? danielle?" minji mumbles, sitting up and blinking slowly. she turns over, eyes still closed, and fixes her hair. when she finally opens her eyes again, she’s surprised to see you. her eyes widen slightly, and she feels a surge of nervousness. "oh, y/n."

“morning!” you grin, then point to the papers and folder on her desk. “you need help with those? the bell just rang.”

“did it?”

“yeah, a minute ago.”

minji sighs, fixing the black glasses she has on her face. you look at her, still, with a smile on your face and raised brows. 

“i don’t need help, you should get to class.”

“you sure? please, i insist.”

“i–” minji wonders if she’s still dreaming, the l/n y/n is offering her help and smiling at her – kim minji. 

ever since you two were first paired for a small project in eighth-grade science, she’s always felt giddy near you. in minji’s mind, you’re some angel from heaven. she has you on an imaginary pedestal that towers above the tallest buildings in the city. you’re on the tennis team, you volunteer, you’re smart, you’re in student government, and you’re so gorgeous that minji can’t think straight around you. 

unfortunately for her, half the school feels the same way, making you an unattainable fantasy. still, minji admires you from afar, blushing at the mere mention of your name and gushing about you to her friends, who never miss an opportunity to tease her about her obvious crush.

“um, yeah, thanks.” minji mutters, gulping as you begin to put her papers in a stack and place them in her folder neatly.

“danielle isn’t here today, is that right?”

“u-um, no.”

“aw, that’s a shame.”

minji tries her best to stay sane in your presence, putting all her attention on the psychology textbook that she’s shoving in her bag. “mhm.” 

you hand minji her blue folder adorned with various stickers she’s collected and she takes it nervously. you smile one more time, placing a hand on her shoulder and she think she might blow up. 

“you should get more sleep.”

“yeah, definitely.” 

“i’ll see you around, bye minji.” you wave your hand and turn to leave, minji’s lips part as she stays stuck in place, trying to regain her composure.

–

“dude, you have like– three classes with her. are you ever going to make a move or…?” 

hanni’s voice is small and faint as she looks at you from across the lobby. the bell has just rung, and everyone is free to leave, but hanni and minji always wait for their two underclassmen they’ve basically adopted to hang out after school.

“hm?”

the younger girl groans, “c’mon, we’re seniors! just stop thinking and go do something! you’ve liked her for years.”

“she’s probably not even gay! she’s always with jungwon…”

“they look like friends to me.” hanni crosses her arms and looks over at you. you’re in a little group with jimin, ningning, and wonyoung, conversing with them and giggling here and there. “she’s not even with jungwon right now.”

“that’s– oh my god, be real.” minji sighs, then turns away to look at hanni dead in the eye. “i unironically take pictures for the yearbook and am in the book club. i don’t know, i’m not eye catching or known or fucking drool worthy.”

“girl, change that then!”

hyein and haerin walk over to the upperclassmen to see them bickering again. hyein butts in, stepping into minji’s personal space. “what’s the argument this time?”

“minji’s lovergirl.”

“ahhh, i’ll pay you ten dollars if you ask her out.”

“i’m not taking your money hyein.” minji pinches the bridge of her nose, then starts to trudge away. “let’s go, it doesn’t matter. i’m hungry and i have less than an hour before i need to start editing the layout for the yearbook.”

the group starts to walk out the entrance, but not before minji gets teased and grilled again. little does minji know, you’re glancing at her the whole time. your eyes follow her as she rolls her eyes and playfully punches hanni in the shoulder. for some reason, the corners of your lips turn up in a smile.

–

a few days later, minji finds herself battling an idiot who decided to scale the side of the ador building. civilians are screaming, and some are injured, but minji swiftly moves them to safety. 

the culprits wield various weapons, forcing minji to dodge bricks left and right. pieces of debris fly at her, nearly hitting her limbs, and she ends up with a small cut on her cheekbone. 

she manages to fend off two of the three culprits, webbing them against a broken wall while dealing with the last one. this guy has good aim and manages to throw a huge piece of the building at her leg, making her wince in pain.

shit, that’s going to bruise. 

minji grunts as she catches the piece of the building that had hit her – mid air with her web – and flings it back at the man, hitting him right in the torso and knocking him out. 

she slings her web toward the building and leaps, sticking herself to the wall. she takes a few moments to recover, pressing a finger to her face and feeling the blood trickle from the small cut. minji sighs, wiping her face before webbing the criminals together in a way that will make the police's job easier.

(even if they’re not very fond with spiderwoman.)

minji has a sharp sense of awareness; her reflexes and attention to the smallest details give her a kind of sixth sense. still, she doesn’t notice you observing the whole scene from afar.

you had been in the building next door for tennis practice but immediately stopped when you heard the commotion. seeing the vigilante in blue made your jaw drop and your eyes shine with admiration. the way spiderwoman handled the situation left you more than just amazed. you found it incredibly intriguing how she could swing around and fight so fluidly.

“woah.” you say in awe, eyes following spiderwoman as she swings away.

“you’re obsessed with her,” jungwon sighs, “but holy shit that was crazy.”

“she’s so cool.”

“doesn’t your dad… hate her?” he questions, making you bite your lip.

your dad was one of the higher-ranking officers in the police force, so everything spiderwoman did reached you through him—just in a more negative light. he’d complain about the “messes” and “damage” she left behind, and you had to hold yourself back from defending her. you found spiderwoman endearing, considering she put her life on the line and was probably a normal person with responsibilities and things to do, yet she took the time to protect others.

of course, your father had the same goals: protecting the city, safeguarding the people, and creating a safer community. he did his best to achieve this, often catching criminals with his impressive skills, but his idea of fighting crime never really aligned with spiderwoman’s methods. you seemed to favor spiderwoman’s actions a little more, considering you’d put much more threatening people down and your dad was always holding some grudge. he’s just too stubborn to understand, really.

“it’s whatever, i mean, can he do that?”

“okay but he’s a cop y/n. spiderwoman is literally some unknown person with powers that could harm others if she decides to go rogue.”

“why do you always think about the bad?” you groan, then return to the court. you grab a tennis ball, bouncing it up and down before catching it. “she’s doing a lot, all she’s done is help the cops ever since she’s been public to the eye. it’s not her fault journalists are trying to shame her. you sound like my dad… gross.”

jungwon scoffs amusingly, “if your dad knew how you really felt… i’d love to watch that unfold.”

“shut up, why are you invested in my dad’s beef with spiderwoman and not getting a boyfriend.”

“and when are you going to stop fangirling over a masked woman that can shoot webs out her wrist.”

you throw the tennis ball in your hand up, then swing aggressively, catching jungwon off guard and making him jump to the side. he looks at you with a confused expression, you simply shake your head.

“let a girl do what she wants.”

-

minji shows up to school sore and there’s a bandage on her cheek from the night before. she groans as she sits next to hanni in their english class, leaning against her for support.

“dude, what the hell is up with you.”

“a piece of building and fighting for half an hour that’s what.”

“oh.” hanni hums, “sorry to hear.” 

“it’s your fault.”

“hey!” hanni frowns.

hanni is one to experiment, and a month ago her victim had been a spider. she had tested various methods of enhancing the spiders abilities and modifying its dna to create an adhesive for the science fair, and unfortunately for minji, the spider had escaped and bit her. minji simply wanted to find a few beakers for her own experiment, the last thing she expected was a spider biting her hand and the next day she didn’t need glasses, her body was toned, she could lift her bed up with a hand — and the worst surprise was her fingers were sticking to everything she picked up.

“well, if you had been more careful…”

“don’t turn this around.” minji sighs, closing her eyes and trying to rest a bit.

her eyes are still closed when she hears a familiar voice that makes her heart flutter, opening them when you start to converse with wonyoung.

“my mom works at ador, i can’t believe spiderwoman had saved her…” wonyoung says.

“really? she did?” you look at her, itching for more details.

“yeah, she almost fell to the ground and spiderwoman saved her.” she repeats.

“wow… im glad she’s okay! oh my gosh, your mom is so lucky, im glad spiderwoman was there.”

minji turns to look at you, fighting back a smile. she is?

“i’d love to be saved by spiderwoman, she seems so cool… like, imagine willingly saving people and whatnot. she must be such great person, right?”

you watch wonyoung shrug, then sit down at her desk. you sit down next to her and she starts to take her folder out her bag before adding, “i mean, probably. she saved my mom, she’s a hero in my eyes.”

“she’s so cool…” you sigh dreamily, minji can’t believe it. “the way she fights is like, oh my god, so sick. i can’t believe she’s real, she’s out of this world.”

you, y/n, are talking highly of spiderwoman. that basically means you’re gushing about her, right? minji blinks three times, fully waking up after the third, and smiles to herself. 

wonyoung snickers, “sounds like you have a crush on spiderwoman.”

“stop that! she’s just… ugh.” you roll your eyes and nudge wonyoung. “she’s so admirable, i wish more people would see her as a hero, you know? she’s only done good so far, all the damage and stuff like that only happened because of the people she fought.”

minji might die – her heart feels like it's about to burst. you're on the same wavelength as her, defending spiderwoman, and you admire her too. the way you smile while talking about her alter ego makes minji feel giddy inside. hanni notices, rolls her eyes, and sets her head down on the desk, trying to catch a few extra minutes of sleep while minji revels in the feeling of being in love. hanni might barf.

wonyoung smiles at you, raising her brows. “you’re a fan.”

“maybe.” you admit, looking at the board in front of you. “she’s so cool, that’s all.”

–

minji’s sat outside in the courtyard looking through the pictures she had taken for the archery team. there’s a variety of shots that capture their activities, highlighting their form and bullseyes, and there are a few group pictures in the mix as well.

her eyes are squinting as she looks through them, so focused on the photos that she doesn’t notice someone calling her name.

"hey, minji," you call out, but she’s still hunched over, intently focused on her camera. you walk over, and she doesn’t notice you, too absorbed in adjusting the settings. gently, you grab the front of her cap and turn it around, making it sit backward on her head. startled, she looks up from the camera in her hand to see you. "hi," you greet again, a smile spreading across your lips.

minji’s cheeks flush. “hi, hey. did you need something?”

“yeah, i just wanted to ask a favor.” 

“oh, of course, what was it?”

you sit down next to her and she feels herself stiffen up. you smile at her and lean against the table behind you. “well, i was wondering if you could help take pictures for the tennis team? we have a practice and game coming up so i figured they’d be good on the yearbook. also, jungwon wanted to ask you to help him promote a fundraiser he wants to set up.”

“he did?”

you nod, “jungwon’s been planning this for a while, we’re trying to set it up and do a bake sale of some sort.”

“i’m down, but i’m booked for this week. a lot of people have been asking around, and my friends have priority, you know.”

a giggle slips from your lips and you point to her camera. “well, who wouldn’t ask you? you’re the best photographer here, last years yearbook was amazing because they switched heeseung out for you.”

“you think?”

“i know.”

minji stops for a second, it feels like she’s being squeezed and the way you look at her makes her heart beat a little faster. 

“t-thanks.” minji hates the small stutter in her response and the way she avoids your gaze. “i can um, arrange something next wednesday for the tennis team. for jungwon’s fundraiser maybe the same week, what was it for anyway?”

"we’re trying to raise money to support others in places that don’t have equal care for the lgbtq+ community!" you explain excitedly. minji freezes up again. we? no, maybe you're just an ally; minji can’t just assume. you're really sweet, kind, and a great person, but that doesn’t mean you're gay just because you want to help others.

“that’s wonderful.” 

“mhm, and especially with so many people getting hurt these days, it worries me how people in my own community deal with unequal healthcare, you know?”

minji tilts her head, then says, “wait, your community?”

you look at her with confusion all over you. “yeah! mine. minji, you know im… a lesbian, right?”

fireworks explode, people are cheering, and minji smiles before quickly suppressing it. "oh," she says, then pauses, realizing how flat her response sounds. she nearly drops her camera as she raises a hand in defense, shaking it and stuttering, "i-i mean, it's not a bad thing! obviously, i mean, i'm gay, er—i'm a lesbian too. i think it's great that you care so much about this. it's great. yeah, i'll prioritize the shoot for you."

she looks adorable, cheeks flushed and her glasses sliding down her nose. you push them up with your finger and minji clenches her jaw. 

“great.” you say softly, then narrow your eyes at her. “well, i have to get going for practice. thanks again, you’re the best minji.”

she nods and grips the camera in her hand a little tighter, watching you walk away, then turn around for a brief moment to add,

“you look really good with your hat like that, by the way.” the way it slips off your tongue, the way you smile once more and walk away, leaves minji feeling like she’s near cardiac arrest.

–

minji’s at a mall on a weekend, not to shop or hangout with her friends, but because people think it’s a good idea to try and commit crimes in broad daylight.

they’re not just normal, stupid shoplifters either; they’re far from it – near villains. the men she’s fighting have weapons, and they’re raiding various tech stores, causing chaos as people run around screaming. the scene is a mess, with extensive property damage, and minji wonders how it will ever get fixed.

she fights four men in the apple store, they chuck phones at her in hopes of slowing her down, but really, it’s just putting good phones to waste. she jumps up on the ceiling, catching them by surprise, and takes them down one by one from where she is. they’re not difficult to fight, minji had alrieady figured from the whole phone throwing part, so thankfully there’s isn’t a single scratch on her.

a few more stores are terrorized and minji manages to capture at least ten more culprits, webbing them together or sticking them to a wall for the police to find red-handed. she’s left with a few bruises by then, but nothing too brutal.

minji catches sight of two men in the corner of her eye running toward the metro stop that connects to the mall. she quickly follows, weaving past civilians and using her webs to launch herself ahead, closing the distance faster. she watches as the two men jump the entrance gate to the station. not only did they destroy a decent part of the mall, but they didn’t even bother to pay for the metro. they could’ve at least bought a day pass, she thinks wryly.

by the time she gets passed the entrance (she didn’t pay either, but in her case it’s to stop crime) and finds herself at a rough stop.

there are three metro lines: red, blue, and yellow – after getting down the stairs there are three directions that they could’ve gone, and minji doesn’t have time to check every place considering the metro comes and goes.

she’s stuck, the only thing she can do is pick one and pray that she’ll find them.

that’s what she thinks at least, until she hears a woman screaming for help in the direction of the red line. minji swings towards it almost immediately, using her enhanced agility and power to get there as fast as she can. 

when she reaches the platform, her eyes widen.

the two men hold you, your arms are restricted and you’re desperately trying to squirm out their grasp. minji immediately feels anger bubbling up inside of her, watching the way the men smile at her.

“let her go.” minji warns, stepping closer.

"how about you relax, spiderwoman? put your hands up, and the girl will be perfectly fine," one of the men sneers, pulling out a dagger and holding it against your neck. your head tilts up, desperately trying to avoid the blade, and your breath shakes as you freeze in place. "wouldn't want to hurt such a pretty little thing, hm? she is one of the captain's daughters, isn't that right?" the man adds, smiling at you disgustingly.

“fuck you.” you curse through gritted teeth. “ugly bitch.”

the man presses the flat side of the dagger against you, the frigid feeling of the material makes you gasp. 

you seemed to have been browsing around the mall, considering the casual outfit you have on, but now, you’re in danger. minji looks at you worried, unable to process much from just seeing you being held back like that. you look at her with upturned brows, scared out of your mind but also worrying just as much for spiderwoman.

minji sighs quickly, there’s others around as well, she can’t risk causing a scene in such a tight space with so much risk of making things worse. she puts her hands up slowly, you widen your eyes.

“fine, i won’t budge. just take that blade away from her, now.” minji says.

the man laughs, and so does his little partner in crime. “what, this blade?” he uses the dagger to tilt your head to the side to face him, then grins. “i wouldn’t do a thing to such a beauty.”

you fight back a retort, opting to shut yourself up for the time being. the man puts his hand down, taking away the blade from your throat.

“let her go.” minji orders, looking at you being held back. “she didn’t do anything.”

his partner snickers, then looks at you amusedly before looking back at minji. “you just stay there and we’ll see what happens to–”

before he can answer, you manage to kick him in the back of his knee, throwing him off balance and making him stumble. this gives you a quick opportunity to break free from one man's grip and swing your free hand at the other. you successfully land a blow on the man with the dagger, striking his jaw, but the impact hurts your knuckles, making you inhale sharply.

the men recover as you step away from them, eyeing you angrily.

“you little–”

before they can grab you again, you feel something sticking to your back. you’re being pulled backwards and feel an arm wraps around you. turning over, you see spiderwoman up close and in person. the eyes on her mask narrow as she looks at you, then asks, 

“are you okay?”

you gulp, then breathe hard. “yeah, yes.”

“good, stay put.” she says. 

you watch as she runs toward the man you had kicked, delivering a punch to his jaw and another to his stomach, making him fall back with a groan. he lays on the ground, clutching his belly, unable to get up after just two hits. the other man, now frightened, clutches his dagger. you watch as spider-woman slings a web at his chest, pulling him toward her, and then punches him right where you did.

you’re amazed, to say the least—until the man somehow manages to swing his dagger at spiderwoman’s upper forearm, leaving a deep cut. your eyes widen in horror as blood seeps out onto the floor.

she gasps in pain as the man attempts to swing at her shoulder, but she quickly throws him to the ground before he can and shoots a web at his hand, making the dagger fall in the process.

ignoring the pain for a moment, minji traps the men on the dirty platform floor by webbing their limbs to the ground. she kicks the man who had the dagger in the crotch for good measure. people cheer in amazement, applauding her efforts.

however, minji’s too distracted by the sharp pain from the cut, and that you’re watching.

she turns to see you appalled, walking over to look at her wound closer.

“you’re– spiderwoman, you’re hurt.”

“it’s not much,” she lies, shaking her head. “just a scratch.”

“no, no it’s not don’t lie to my face.” you grab her wrist without warning, and even though she’s spiderwoman at the moment – not kim minji, the girl who can barely make eye contact with you for more than five seconds – she’s momentarily distracted by the pain and blushing. “i– are you able to swing places?”

“um, i guess?” the confidence she’s built for this alter ego has completely washed away in your presence. “what are you–”

before she can finish, you fish for a handkerchief in your bag and tie it around the bleeding cut. minji doesn’t respond or say anything because a second later you’ve grabbed her hand and started running away from the red line platform. civillians watch, but none follow.

you turn to her for a split second as you speed through the corridors to ask, “do you know where hybe highschool is?”

“yes,” minji says breathily, “excuse me, y/–” she catches herself before exposing the fact that she knows you. “miss, what are you–”

“take me there, you can swing me, can’t you?”

the handkerchief does wonders, or maybe it’s just you. spiderwoman nods. “yeah, yes.”

in a rush of boldness, minji grabs your waist and holds onto you tight, shooting a web up at the ceiling to get the two of you up the big escalator in two seconds, then finds the nearest exit and has you two outside in no time.

“hold on tight, okay? it can be a little scary.”

“i like the thrill, it’s okay.” 

minji pauses, catching her breath. “you’re interesting,” she says, then shoots a web at the nearest building. she jumps up, swinging the two of you through the urban jungle, the city blurring around you as minji finds the quickest route to her school with you clinging onto her.

–

when the two of you reach the school, it’s closed and abandoned since it’s a saturday. why would anyone be on the campus during their off day? in this case, it’s because a pretty girl has led spiderwoman back for a reason she hasn’t even said yet.

minji needs to get a grip.

“follow me,” you say quickly, then grab her hand and run towards the south entrance where the main office and clinic are. ““if you’re ever hurt, just remember this.”

the doors aren’t open, but you pull out a keycard from under the mat that unlocks it. 

you lead her past the office and towards the clinic, which is empty. minji lets you sit her down – you’re too in your head to consider the fact that spiderwoman is sat down with no word uttered because she had simply let you do so – and watches you shuffle around the storage to find a first aid kit, cloth, a bucket, and a bottle of distilled water.

“what are you doing?”

“you have a really deep cut in your forearm, it’s not safe to just let it go.”

“i could’ve seen a doctor.”

you scoff, then sit down next to her. “they’d ring the police immediately, you know my dad is a captain? everyone there hates you.”

“oh.”

"yeah, oh." you grab her forearm, unwrapping the handkerchief and cringing at how much blood has soaked through. "jesus christ." you hold her forearm above a bucket, pouring water over the wound to rinse it off. then you grab a soft cloth with disinfectant to clean around the area. the sting makes minji groan. "sorry," you apologize.

"it’s fine," she says quietly, watching you clean around the wound with an alcohol wipe. minji bites back more sounds of pain—for your sake, of course.

the rest of the time you treat her, it's silent. thankfully, the cut isn’t severe enough to need stitches. you apply a thin layer of ointment to the wound, then cover it with gauze, wrapping it securely around her forearm to keep it in place. you rub your thumb over the gauze, then look up at spiderwoman.

“does it hurt less?”

“yeah,” she says, looking down at her treated cut. “thank you.”

“it’s nothing.”

“why did you do it?”

“why not?” you shrug, packing up the equipment you used. “you’re spiderwoman.”

“you just said the police hate me.”

“they do.”

“your dad is a cop.”

“you’re smart,” you grin at her teasingly as she points out the obvious. “he is.”

minji sighs, unable to read you at all. “you don’t hate me?”

“i don’t have any reason to. most of the time you do their job better, you help out with the more… serious crimes. if anything, i think you’re a hero.”

that manages to shut spiderwoman up, so you continue, putting the first aid kit away in the cabinet. then you grab the blood and water mixture and pour it down the sink. you rinse the bucket and place it on the ground before tossing the empty water bottle into the trash.

minji cannot believe any of this happened. you, the prettiest, sweetest girl in the school that she’s been head over heels for since grade eight, have managed to drag a vigilante five minutes away to your school and treat her.

“how are you so good with stuff like this?” minji questions, watching you wash your hands. 

“my aunt is a nurse.” you dry off your hands with a paper towel, then turn to look at her. “she taught me a fair amount.”

of course you know how to treat a wound, you’re good at everything, minji thinks.

“thank you…?”

“y/n,” minji already knows that, and you saying it is like choir bells ringing. “my name is y/n.”

“right, thank you y/n.”

“mhm.” she watches you fix your black t-shirt and jeans, then grab a small bandaid from the drawer nearby. you look in the mirror and lift your head up, turning to the side to place the bandaid on a small cut that minji didn’t notice before.

“he hurt you?”

“‘just a scratch,’” you mock her words from earlier. “he just grazed me, it’s bleeding a little now though.”

“you’re okay, right?”

“kind of traumatized but i’ll be fine.” you say, brushing it off like it’s nothing. minji is seriously attracted to everything about you. “i’m glad you’re okay.”

“i should be the one saying that.”

“i’m okay, spiderwoman. all because of you.”

minji tries to respond, but her throat dries up. she watches you smile at her, feeling her heart do a little flip in her chest. she wonders what she can do in return, then perks her head up as an idea forms in her mind.

“i can drop you back off at home, it’s getting late,” you offer, though it’s only five o’clock in the afternoon. despite the early hour, minji finds herself wanting to spend more time with you. behind the mask, she feels a bit more confident talking to you, knowing you think highly of her from what you’ve overheard. “you like the thrill, right?”

“you’re a good listener.”

“i guess so.”

“i’d love to get home via spiderwoman, uber’s are pricey these days.”

minji laughs softly and the pain in her arm fades away momentarily.

–

you’re bombarded the next day by your friends and some other people you’ve only talked to a few times in your (almost) four years of being in the school. they all question the same thing, everything is related to what happened between you and spiderwoman because of some pictures going around on the internet.

the people you don’t know all too well all question your experience, but your friends are asking if you’re okay or severely injured.

jungwon acts as a bodyguard, shooing away everyone who isn’t in your circle and tilting your head up to examine the bandaid on your neck.

“is your throat okay?”

“it’s nothing, just a little worse than a papercut,” you assure, but wonyoung makes a face.

“papercuts are terrible y/n,” she groans, “are you sure you’re fine?”

“it’s nothing. spiderwoman saved me before i could do anything, i’ll tell you more, let’s just get to class?”

“you’re sure you’re–” 

“wonyoung, it’s a scratch. it’s nothing.”

–

after school, you’re typically at tennis practice or helping out with student government activities. you usually get home around four or five, either sweaty from practice or burnt out from your responsibilities. normally, you arrive before your dad and aunt. your dad’s demanding schedule rarely allows him to rest, and your aunt’s schedule is worse considering she’s a nurse, so you’re usually home alone for a bit.

that’s not the case this time.

you close the door behind you, then turn to see your dad leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. your aunt looks at you, clearly tense.

“oh, you’re both home.” you set your jacket on the little hook in the door. “what’s up…?” the way your dad looks at you makes you stiff, his jaw tightens and he looks angry. he’s rarely ever angry at you, and your aunt seems worried. “did something happen?” you ask.

“how about you explain to me why i’m finding out today,” he steps away from the counter, walking towards you and continuing, “that my daughter crossed paths with that vigilante.”

“spiderwoman?”

“y/n, i thought you knew better.”

your shoulders sink and you sigh, “she’s not as bad as you paint her out to be.”

“she could be, she’s dangerous.”

“dad!” you scoff, shaking your head. “are you dense? if she hadn’t been there, my throat would’ve been sliced.”

“or maybe you wouldn’t have been in that situation at all. you realize those men used you to get spiderwoman to surrender? because of her i almost lost my only daughter.”

your aunt simply hums, then nods. “i’m sorry but… your dad has a point.”

“you’re agreeing with him too?” you groan, “dad, regardless of what could’ve happened, what did happen was that spiderwoman saved me. can’t you see that?”

“y/n, think about what could happen in the long run, listen to your dad. look, i know you’re frustrated, but your dad is also my older brother, he’s always known what’s best.”

“all that spiderwoman can bring is danger to you, don’t follow her antics.”

you stare at both of them, baffled and almost offended. you could’ve died, and they’re still ungrateful for spider-woman’s efforts. you bite the inside of your lip, struggling to hold back the urge to lash out. your dad sends you a small warning look, silently reminding you to keep your composure. scoffing, since it's the only outlet for your frustration, you storm down the hall to your room, deciding to avoid them for a while.

once you close the door, you flop down on your bed and close your eyes.

various emotions come rushing to you, only fuelign the fire of resent towards your dad in the moment.

he’s been so uptight since your mom passed when you were young, becoming increasingly protective and closed off. he pushes you to be better but restricts you from so many things. it’s as if he wants to hide you from the world, only exposing you to what he deems right. his selfishness and narrow-mindedness infuriate you. his biased views feel like chains holding you back and making you angrier.

your aunt has been with you for a while now, and she understands you the most. she gets your moods, motivations, and knows you like the back of her hand. despite everything, she sides with your dad – you feel some sort of betrayal.

your father isn’t a bad guy, but being mad at him makes you forget that for a bit.

“he doesn’t know shit,” you mutter, “spiderwoman isn’t danger.”

sitting up again, you stare at the floor as you recollect yourself.

you groan again, feeling cramped up in the room. your thoughts feel like a stormy cloud over your head and the thought of being in the same living space with your dad only frustrates you more. 

quickly, you grab your phone and keys, rushing out your room and down the hall. your aunt and dad stop conversing momentarily as they watch you unlock the door.

“what do you think you’re doing y/n?” your dad questions, watching you closely. you don’t respond, instead sending him a small look before opening the door, and he seems to lose it. “where the hell are you–”

his wrist is restrained and tugged at as you exit the apartment. your dad looks back to see your aunt – his sister – holding him back. she shakes her head and stops him, softly saying, “don’t, just let her.”

“i can’t just–”

“you’re so uptight, just let her be. she’s overstimulated and needs some time.”

he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking back at the door. his body relaxes, almost going limp as he sits down next to your aunt. “i’m just worried for her.”

“she’ll be fine, just take it easy. i’m worried about her too.”

–

you’ve made it a few blocks away with no idea in mind. you don’t have your wallet or anything, just a heavy heart and clouded mind – and after hearing your stomach rumble, almost an empty stomach too.

it’s still busy during the late evening. people are making their way home after staying late at work, families of three or four linger together, and friends eat ice cream on the benches. you’re trying to find a place that brings you peace. the nearby bookstore, the same one you grew up visiting, pops into your head. it never fails to bring you relaxation, a sort of sanctuary to you.

one more block and you’ve turned to meet the entrance of the bookstore, it closes in less than an hour – that’s more than enough time to cruise around. stepping inside you’re met with the strangely nice smell of books, a small smile forms on your lips.

you make your way over to the graphic novels, sliding your fingers along the spines as you walk through. you’ve already read most of them, and tonight's mood doesn’t really call for this type of reading. the next section you visit is where your favorite poems and literature are found. you scan the shelves closely before picking out a small book filled with a collection of poems you haven’t seen before. flipping through it, you read every other page, admiring the works.

you grab another book before heading to your favorite spot, the little corner away from the shelves near the window. 

what you don’t expect to see is someone in your usual spot, slumped against the wall, sleeping with a book in their hand. you squint your eyes as you catch sight of the person, then look closer, realizing it isn’t just anyone: it’s minji.

minji’s always been alluring in your eyes, not just physically but her as a person drew you in a bit. she’d always stumble on her words and had this weird, adorable charm to her with every interaction. plus, she was smart and sweet, but you never had the chance to talk to her as much as you’d like to – even if you were to, you were always a little nervous yourself. seeing her now, she looks especially cute, reminding you of how she makes your heart beat slightly faster everytime you see her.

she’s in a black hoodie and jeans, breathing slowly with her head angled down and her lips slightly parted. her glasses are almost at the tip of her nose and her hair is tied up in a casual bun. you’ve always caught her sleeping in class at least twice a week from afar, you never realized how pretty she looked up close.

you hesitate, unsure whether to wake her or not. glancing down at your phone to check the time, you decide you’ll wake her before the store closes.

to pass the time, you continue to read, marvelled at certain pieces and snapping pictures here and there. this lasts twenty minutes, you almost forget about the time, but minji crosses your mind as you read a certain poem and it prompts you to check your phone and look back at the girl.

you shake her lightly, hearing her groan despite not budging. you squeeze her shoulder and she still doesn’t wake up, so you opt to pinch her cheeks, which stirs her awake.

“hm?” she mutters, blinking a couple times. 

“morning minji.”

“y/n, hi, what– how did you get here? what time is it…”

she hears you giggle before responding, “the place closes in ten minutes. i usually read in this space but when i came over i saw you sleeping, so i just stayed close until it got late.”

“you did?” you stayed by minji while she slept, how crazy is that? minji pushes her glasses up. “thank you for waking me up.”

“it’s nothing, but we should probably head out before they kick us out.”

“yeah, that sounds good.”

minji follows you towards the section where you got the book you were reading. she watches as you carefully put the book back in its place, and then you lead her out of the bookstore, saying goodnight to the staff sweetly and waving. minji can only smile and admire until you’re both outside.

you look both ways, then your stomach rumbles. your cheeks warm up and you embarrassingly mumble, “sorry, i haven’t eaten yet.”

“you haven’t?” minji questions.

“no. i’ll eat later, i don’t have my wallet on me.”

“but your stomach just rumbled, you should really eat.”

“it’s whatever.”

“no,” minji shakes her head, then looks at you seriously. “it’s not whatever, let me buy you something.” she says, a little shocked that she even had the confidence to say that. “you need to eat.”

“it’s fine, i–”

“come on, let’s go. the convenience store is at the end of the block.”

“i don’t have my wallet minji.”

“i’ll pay.”

“you’re not paying for me.”

“yes i am. do you want those pictures or…?” minji smirks slightly and you surrender because it makes you feel oddly nervous and warm inside.

“fine.” you respond, shoulders sinking as minji starts to walk in the direction of the convenience store. 

the two of you make your way inside, wandering around and browsing the cheaper options. minji grabs a packet of ramen and some green tea, while you find a chicken sandwich and peach tea. after being rung up by the cashier, you head towards the area to prepare minji’s ramen. as you glance at the food in your hands, you feel a pang of guilt, knowing she bought it for you.

minji’s pouring hot water into the bowl while you speak, “i’ll pay you back.”

“it’s nothing, don’t.”

“stop, i will.”

“don’t.” minji shrugs, then uses a chopstick to stir the noodles around. she puts a sauce packet in and mixes again, then looks at you with a small smile. “it’s nothing, seriously. i haven’t eaten dinner yet either, your company is enough.”

“is it?”

she finds herself blushing a little. “um, yeah, yes.”

“oh.” your lips start to turn up. “yours is great too.”

minji turns back to the bowl of ramen because she’s a little embarrassed, but also because her dinner is finished. 

the two of you sit at the counters inside the store and start to eat. it’s silent for a while, but there’s nothing wrong with that. you feel happy just being next to her, and the sandwich tastes better than usual.

“why didn’t you eat before?” minji asks you while you’re still chewing. 

you take a moment to swallow before answering, “i kind of… ran away for a bit.”

“you snuck out?”

“no, my dad saw me leave. i think my aunt held him back.”

“oh.” minji looks away from you and out the window. “did something happen?” she starts, but stops herself soon after. “i mean you don’t have to tell me of course, i was just curious.”

“it’s fine, my dad and i got into a little disagreement, that’s all.” you see, a little bothered by it in minji’s eyes, but she doesn’t push further. you take a sip of your tea and turn to look at minji. “how long were you at the bookstore?”

“oh, um.” she laughs nervously. “i was reading for half an hour, then fell asleep. you woke me up a few hours after.”

“you were asleep for hours there?”

“only two!” she quickly defends, making you giggle. “i’m just… tired these days.”

you scoff playfully. “doing what?” 

minji pauses, trying to formulate an answer. “sleep problems?” it comes out unsure and more like she’s questioning herself. she coughs and says again, firmly, “sleep problems.”

“aw, maybe buy melatonin?”

“my mom isn’t fond of that, she thinks it’ll mess with my health.”

“yeah, my dad thinks that too.” 

minji chuckles before slurping up a few more noodles, and you take another bite out of your sandwich.

a few minutes later, you two finish your food and start walking with no destination in mind. the evening chill sets in, and the breeze makes you tense up and shiver. minji notices you clutch your phone tighter as the wind blows against you. you're wearing a baby t-shirt and linen pants, clearly not enough to keep warm in this weather.

“are you cold?”

you shake your head and lie, “no, just a breeze.”

“you look cold. here, i have a long-sleeved shirt under this anyway,” minji says quietly, slipping off her hoodie. she pauses and you do too, then hands it to you. you tilt your head, staring at the piece of clothing, then look back at her. she moves it towards you again, urging you to take it. “i’m warm, you’re not.”

“i am.”

“i didn’t know you could be such a liar, y/n.”

“what?”

“i’m kidding,” she says, then pulls you closer by your wrist. you let her put the hoodie on you, it fits a little large since it’s also oversized on her. “better?”

she looks at you with care in her eyes, you almost stop breathing. the sunset’s glow highlights the curve of her nose and lights up her gaze. all you can think is wow, because wow.

“woah,” you’re a little starstruck. “you’re… gorgeous.”

“i– what? no, where did that come from?”

“sorry, um, i didn’t mean to… it was just in the moment, you know? yeah…” you swallow lightly, and laugh to push away the awkwardness. “thank you. this is much better, i’m warm.”

“that’s good.”

“yeah.”

the two of you continue to walk, with you filling the silence and talking about your classes. minji’s easy to talk to, she’s a great listener and hums at everything before adding her own input. everything she responds with is interesting too, but maybe that’s because she’s minji.

both of you had turned halfway through to start walking in the other direction since you live the same way. minji points at certain stores and spots, sharing short stories and little remarks about memories from each place. her voice is soft and nostalgic, painting vivid pictures of her past experiences as you stroll along together. 

you could listen to her all day, or at least a long while. that’s what you realize the more she speaks.

you two reach a point where you need to part ways. minji lives on the right side and you live left, so you two stand at the croner before the crosswalk, looking at each other.

minji pauses you as you start to take off her hoodie, “you can give it back to me tomorrow.”

“what? no way, it’s cold.”

“my home is only five minutes down, it’s fine.”

“you sure?”

“i’m sure.” she adds.

silence follows again for a few seconds, you take the time to scan minji’s face again.

“what happened to your cheek?” you point at the bandage on her cheekbone.

“oh,” minji’s not going to tell you that some idiot decided to throw a piece of building at her and scratch her skin. “um, knife?” she clears her throat. “knife.”

“how did the knife get up there?”

minji tries hard to conjure a response, looking down before her eyes light up after a lie forms.

“i had it in my hand while trying to scratch an itch.”

“mhm, okay.” you say squinting your eyes at her and giggling. 

minji looks at the bandage on your neck, remembering how, where, and why you had hurt yourself there. it’s odd that you look at her with the same admiration even when she’s out of teh suit – when she’s just minji and not some ‘hero’ in your eyes.

“what happened to your neck?”

“some guy.” you play it off like you didn’t almost get your throat sliced. “you probably heard the story.”

“i didn’t.” she didn’t need to, minji had been part of the story.

“oh,” your fingers raise and brush against the bandage as you recall, “spiderwoman saved me, but this guy managed to graze me.”

minji hums and nods, then steps closer, reaching her hand out to gently put her finger on it. you stiffen. 

“were you scared?” minji asks, finger sliding down the bandage in a way that makes you tingle. “it must’ve been scary.”

you shake your head. “spiderwoman was there, i knew she’d come through.”

“right.” minji says lowly, then takes her finger off of you. she stares at you for a good five seconds before smiling softly. “i’ll um, i’ll see you.”

“yeah, thanks.”

“get home safe, text me when you get– oh, wait.” she furrows her brows before pulling out her phone. “i don’t have your um…” her voice quiets down to something close to a whisper, “--your number.”

“you can have it, if that’s what you’re trying to ask.” 

“yeah, um, i just wanted to make sure you got home safe.” minji says, because if anything were to happen to you she’d do more than just web some dumbass down. they’d probably be left with a little bruise or two, maybe even left upside down against a wall or tree. minji continues, “if that’s alright with you.”

“that’s perfect.” you type in your number and smile at her once more before finally adding, “thank you for the hoodie, good night minji.”

“goodnight y/n.”

with that, you two depart, and you look back once to see her walking in the other direction. when you turn back, putting your hands in the pocket of minji’s hoodie, you realize: minji’s wonderful. 

the image of her smiling and puffing her lips out when you tease her makes you grin to yourself. you can’t tell if it’s because of her hoodie or her; you’re warm inside and out.

–

minji waits for you at the entrance of the school instead of meeting her friends at their usual spot (if the little corridor by the gym counts as a meetup spot anyway). she looks around, you had texted her that you were almost at school.

she feels a little stupid standing there by herself, especially since your friends are nearby and stealing glances at her, making her shrink in her place a little.

all her worries wash away when you walk through the entrance and scan the room, meeting her eyes and lighting up. you make your way towards her with her hoodie in your arms, then hand it to her.

“thanks again.”

“it’s no problem.”

“i owe you, and for the shoot later today.”

“you don’t owe me anything.” minji smiles at you assuringly. “i’ll um, get going. your friends are all here…” she rubs her neck awkwardly and looks down at the hoodie in her hand.

“oh! i was actually wondering…” she watches you look down at the ground. “do you want to walk around together? we have first block together so… if you don’t mind. i enjoyed being around you last night.”

“you did?” minji looks surprised, she sounds surprised. “i mean, yes. yeah, i’m down, let me text my friends.”

“great.”

“yeah.”

minji can’t fight back the smile that forms on her face and neither can you – you like the sight of it. her gums show a little and you think it’s the most endearing thing in the world.

“by the way, are you and your dad okay? after the argument.. you know?”

“oh, yeah.” you mumble. you and your dad agreed to disagree. “it doesn’t really matter, i’m just grateful you were there to help me feel better.”

“i did?”

“how could you not?”

-

minji’s adjusting the settings of her camera, eyes squinty as she looks close at the small screen. from afar, you take a few glances throughout your conversation with jungwon and wonyoung.

you watch as minji’s lips pout a little, she has a poker face that would make her seem intimidating and serious if you didn’t know her. 

“hello?” jungwon waves a hand in front of your face. you glance away from minji and your attention is back on him, catching the look he shares with wonyoung. 

“why are you guys looking at each other like that.” 

wonyoung raises her eyebrows, the smirks. “the real question is why are you looking at minji so much?”

“i’m just… you know… she’s– she’s taking long to set up her stuff.”

“it’s been less than three minutes y/n,” jungwon clicks his tongue. “you even ditched us to walk with her, what’s up with that?”

crossing your arms, you respond, “what’s wrong with that? are you jealous?”

“oh not at all, i don’t care y/n. just curious, that’s all.”

“you looked a little too happy in my eyes.” wonyoung teases, smiling knowingly. 

“shut up, she’s just really nice, you know…” 

“uh huh.” jungwon hums, smiling wider.

before you can scold him, you catch minji looking up and making eye contact with you. today, she’s wearing a flannel over a white tank top, paired with dark jeans to complete the outfit. she looks a little dorky, but you’re into that – she pulls it off effortlessly. 

as she starts to walk towards you, jungwon, and wonyoung, you smile wider, waving at her and beckoning her over with your hand. minji greets the others warmly, then glances down at the ground before looking back up at you nervously.

“hi, are you all ready?”

“yeah, i’ll gather the rest.”

“great, you all can just go on with practice and i’ll try to get the best shots i can.”

“that sounds great! thank you again minji, i owe you so much.”

she chuckles, putting a hand on your shoulder and rubbing it lightly. “it’s nothing.” she says, but what’s something is the familiar tingly sensation making you lose balance. jungwon notices the blush on your cheeks, as well at your thrown off composure, fighting back a laugh.

first, you and jungwon have a warm-up match together. minji snaps a few pictures before wonyoung and heeseung join in for a doubles match. after capturing your group, she moves on to the rest of the team, snapping pictures of them in action. her shots capture the players mid-swing, rackets in hand, their faces set with determination. the light filters through the trees, casting a perfect glow over the court, making each photo dynamic and full of energy.

you sit on the side, watching your teammates and minji (mostly minji) at work. 

“i’ve never seen you with hearts in your eyes until now.” wonyoung teases, shoving her shoulder against yours.

“shut up,” you groan, putting your hand on her face and pushing her away. “minji’s so sweet, and cute…”

“i knew it!” wonyoung gasps, “you never look at anyone like that. half the school looks at you like that, but you’ve never returned the gesture.”

“there’s no one in the school to look at like that wony.”

“well, now there is.”

you sigh, leaning into your best friend and pouting. minji looks really, really good on the court, the sun hitting her, and all focused on doing what she does best.

“i never realized how gorgeous she was.” you admit, staring harder. “and she’s so nice, like, danielle – the one in student government – she’s mentioned her a few times and only good things have come out her mouth. she’s not lying.”

“what, did you hangout with her or something? like a date?”

“no! no.” you shake your head, then frown slightly. “i mean, i got into a fight again with my dad and ran out the house and then to the bookstore and–”

“slow down.”

“sorry. i don’t know, i ran into her and just being with her made me feel better. it’s crazy because we’ve barely talked before this.”

“hmm…” wonyoung starts to ponder, narrowing her eyes at minji as she shoots a thumbs up in the air. she turns to face you and your best friend, smiling and walking over. “well, seems like you’re fond of her. i guess we’ll have to let time do the work.” she says before minji’s in a range where she can hear the two of you.

minji stands in front of you and wonyoung, grinning as she explains, “i’ve gotten the last shots i think, now a group picture?” 

“yes, that would be great.”

“great, if you could get everyone in the middle of the court that would be great.”

you nod, then grab wonyoung eagerly by the wrist and motion for everyone to gather around, just like minji said.

she instructs you all to have the tallest in the back, with you and jungwon in the front together since you two are the captains. minji sets the camera on the tripod, squinting her eyes as she fixes certain things. then, she gives a small thumbs up and says, “smile!”

the whole team says “cheese!” in unison, making minji smile herself. she snaps a few pictures, then urges you all to do something a little sillier. you make a face and stand on your tip toes to wrap and arm around jungwon, making him groan and laugh simultaneously. it’s candid in a way, with everyone being themselves and enjoying the moment.

minji giggles, then raises her hand up to give one last final thumbs up.

the smile on your face fades into something near shock, because minji’s sleeve falls down to just above her elbow, revealing a covered-up patch of skin – goosebumps trail up your spine because that’s the exact same gauze and placement. everything is identical to what you patched up two days ago, your brows furrow upon seeing it.

minji doesn’t seem to notice, instead taking the camera off the tripod and clicking through the photos. the tennis team starts to converse again, but you’re caught up with the injury on minji’s forearm.

you don’t want to jump to conclusions – but you’re kind of doing that.

what doesn’t help minjis case is the fact that she reacts so quickly when a tennis ball flies toward her head. it’s almost unhuman how she manages to dodge it, then catch it right after. 

she walks back towards you, then says, “the pictures look great from the little screen, i’ll take a look at them on the laptop and email them to you, yeah?”

you don’t respond for a moment, your eyes on her exposed forearm. you squint harder, thinking of when you patched up spiderwoman, and nothing shakes you from teh fact that that’s the same fucking bandage.

“y/n?”

“oh, yeah, that sounds good.”

“yeah…” minji realizes what you’re staring at, then panics and quickly rolls down her sleeve again. “i um, i just uh, hurt myself.”

“how?” you look up at her, making eye contact. “what happened?”

“brick.” she says quietly, “i tripped and my arm hit the um, the edge of a brick.”

“right, okay.” you still look at her now covered forearm, squinting again. “i hope it feels better.”

“thanks.”

“yeah.”

–

there isn’t a single person you can confide in about your suspicion that minji might be spiderwoman. jungwon would laugh and brush you off, thinking it’s just a wild fantasy. wonyoung would probably call you delusional, yeah, probably. 

left with no one to share your thoughts, you resort to lying in bed, eyes wide open, pondering the possibility. the moonlight filters through your window, casting shadows on the ceiling as you replay every clue and coincidence in your mind, trying to make sense of it all.

you grab your phone, searching up “superwoman” to see a very recent article in the first result that comes up titled: spiderwoman caught in a recent face-off with seoul’s most dangerous gang.

you click on a video beneath the headline, watching the scene unfold. spiderwoman performs a series of flips and maneuvers that seem almost unreal. the person filming is either too nervous or simply bad at their job; the footage is shaky, making it hard to follow. you squint at the screen, trying to make out the details, feeling a mix of awe and frustration as spiderwoman's incredible agility and skill are partially obscured by the unsteady camera work.

what you do catch is a dagger being thrown at spiderwoman’s rib, slicing her suit and watching blood seep out as she clutches the wound. you wince from just watching.

spiderwoman fights off the gang members with ease, knocking out three at once by letting them charge her, then jumping up to make them crash to the ground without her laying a finger on them. the last man stares at her in fear, stumbling backward as she steps closer and webs his mouth shut.

the video ends with spiderwoman webbing all the culprits against the city square as the police arrive. there’s sirens and commotion before she turns to see cops with guns pointed at her before swinging off, leaving them frustrated. your dad appears in the frame, cursing under his breath. the civilians around watch in shock and awe, clapping as she swings away.

she swings west, you take note of that.

after clicking out the video realizing that the article had been posted only five minutes ago, you hurriedly grab a hoodie and rush out your room. your aunt isn’t home yet, so no one would notice that you’re out and about.

you rush out the door and and lock your apartment clumsily, missing the keyhole at least twice before getting it. you run towards the elevator, then out of it once you reach the lobby and speed towards your school.

the school you patched spiderwoman up in, the school you and minji attend, is west of the city square. there’s a chance that spiderwoman won’t be there, but after she’s been shown how to get in after hours, there’s also a chance that the wound on her side needs to be patched up there specifically. besides, you’ve given her the secret to getting in.

you get there after running at your fastest pace for five minutes straight, and now you’re breathing heavily outside the entrance of the school. you’re inside in no time (perks of having a keycard from student government) and tiredly rushing towards the nurses office, then heading inside.

minji, however, is at least three steps ahead of you. after being bit by a genetically modified spider, her senses have been enhanced, so she had heard you as soon as you made it past the entrance – without knowing it was you.

when you step inside, there’s no one. 

the only thing you can see are bandages messily spread out on the counter and blood on the floor. you let out a breath at the sight of it.

“it’s me, y/n.”

there’s silence for a few seconds before you hear someone landing on the ground behind you, making you yelp from surprise.

“y/n? what are you doing here?”

“i saw your fight in an article.” you start, turning around to face the masked hero. you’re still not one hundred percent sure if it’s minji, but something tells you it’s her. you can’t really explain it. “you’re hurt.”

“a little.”

“that’s a big scratch you have there.” you point out, making minji laugh despite the sharp pain she feels.

“‘you’re smart’.” now it’s her turn to mock your words. you roll your eyes, stepping closer to press your fingers against it, her blood staining your fingers a bit. 

“sit down.”

“i don’t need your help.”

“you’re going to end up with a soaked bandaid, spiderwoman. i know what i’m doing, and i’m already here.”

minji inhales sharply when you press against the cut. “fine.” she croaks out.

she sits down on the counter, legs hanging off as you clean around the wound, blood soaking the small towel. you add some disinfectant, hearing her wince lowly and grip the counter not-so-subtly, so you grab her hand, squeezing comfortingly.

“it’s okay, i’m here.” you mumble, looking up at her. 

minji feels her heart tighten.

“thank you.”

you hum.

you bandage the wound carefully, relieved it’s not deep enough to require stitches. spiderwoman glances at her rib area, gently sliding her fingers over your handiwork. she looks back at you, a soft smile playing under her mask.

she watches you look back, frowning.

“what’s wrong?” minji asks.

“you’re bleeding.”

“you patched me up.”

shaking your head, you do something that makes minji short-circuit. your hand falls to her jawline, your thumb grazing the edge near her chin before pressing down. minji feels a sharp pain she hadn't noticed before. when you pull your thumb away, you stare at the smear of blood on it, holding it up to show her.

“it wasn’t just your abdomen.” you explain, then the worry fills your eyes again. “you’re bleeding through your mask.”

“oh,”

“can i? i won’t do it all the way, just past your lip to treat the wound.”

minji hesitates, then nods. “yeah, that’s okay. no more than that.”

“of course.”

you tremble a little as you roll up her mask tantalizingly. your fingers meet her skin just barely, but she still hears her breath hitching and her throat drying up.

you’re looking at her exposed lips before you even pay attention to the cut on her jawline. they’re plump and parted before you, catching your eye effortlessly. after gazing for a few seconds longer, you cradle her face in one hand to keep her in place as you dab an alcohol wipe over the cut – she winces.

“sorry.”

“it’s fine.”

a few seconds later and there’s a bandaid on her jawline now, courtesy of you.

she softly rubs the bandaid, then brings her mask back down. she clears her throat,

“thank you.”

“it’s nothing.”

“you didn’t have to.”

“i want to.” your expression is hard to read, a mix of worry and pity, but also admiration. “you’re a hero, you should be treated like one.”

“i just have responsibilities.”

“well, you should be someone’s responsibility too.”

“why yours?”

“because i care – a lot.”

minji stays silent for a while, staring at you through the mask. she feels beyond lucky, a little emotional too. her chest tightens slightly, urging her to look away from you and scoot away. 

you frown again.

–

the next day minji shows up next to you nervously with hanni by her side. you’re with jungwon at your locker, conversing with him until you feel a tap on your shoulder. when you turn around, you’re more than happy to see minji.

she has a small cut on her jawline in the same area and with the same bandage. there’s no denying that spiderwoman stands before you, but you’ll let her know a different way.

jungwon watches her hand you a flashdrive, her other hand clutching the strap of her bag. 

“um, these are the pictures.” her lips move the same way as spiderwomans, and they’re just as alluring. “ ihave the edited and original versions of each, just tell me which one you like the most.”

without warning, you reach over and hug her. she widens her eyes, and so do hanni and jungwon as they watch everything unfold. you purposely slide your hand over the wound on her rib area, pressing on it slightly and hearing her sharply exhale in your ear.

it’s her, it’s definitely her – you couldn’t be any happier that it’s her. minji’s sweet, caring, and very attentive, her personality fits her alter ego perfectly.

you pull away from her and smile, your hands gently resting on her forearm, holding her in place. minji feels a rush of warmth hit her cheeks like a summer heatwave, her heart pounding in her chest. 

“you’re literally the best, thank you minji.” 

“y-yeah, it’s no problem.” 

hanni looks dumbfounded watching the exchange. she turns to minji after you walk away with jungwon, and her best friend is smiling like an idiot. hanni almost gags.

–

a week passes by, you and minji have spent more mornings before class together, even conversing after school time to time. 

minji seems to have healed, the bandage on her cheekbone is gone and there’s a faint line that indicates a former cut on her face, but it’s not noticeable under her concealer. you’re happy to see that she’s getting better physically – much faster than the normal person, you might add.

(because she’s spiderwoman, you know she’s spiderwoman.)

you’ve spent more time admiring minji, your crush on her growing deeper and it almost makes you forget that she has a whole other persona. you can’t remember a single thing about the arachnid while staring at her brown eyes and pretty pink lips.

–

there’s not much crime for a little while, not until two weeks after the night you had patched up spiderwoman (kim minji, the prettiest girl in the school). 

a video on instagram reaches four thousand views in three minutes, the video showing spiderwoman leaping off a building and knocking down some lunatic with legs made of metal. some scientists really need to stay thinking inside the box, because giving yourself additional limbs to steal from organizations is just insane.

you watch as spiderwoman gets tackled to the ground at ador labs, grappling with manmade tentacle arms using her enhanced strength. sitting on the edge of your bed, you bite the inside of your lip when you see her shoulder get cut by the edge of a mechanical hand.

thankfully, the police arrive just in time to assist. they shoot at the villain, whose face bears an uncanny resemblance to the ceo of jyp manufacturing, distracting him long enough for spiderwoman to kick him off and shoot webs at his goggles.

the person recording has a steadier hand than the last, capturing the way spiderwoman uses her webs to launch herself at the man and kick him in the chest. she quickly rips off two of the tentacles, causing the remaining ones to shut down.

she collapses to the ground, clearly exhausted, but scrambles back up and onto her feet as the police start to close in on her. she’s swift and smart, easily fleeing the scene in no time.

you had left your apartment the moment the video ended, and now you find yourself back at school, catching your breath and processing everything you just witnessed as yourush towards the nurses office.

opening the door, you catch spiderwoman sitting on the floor and leaned against the counter tiredly, clutching her shoulder. 

“my god,”

“you came.” she says, practically a breath. 

“of course i did, i saw the video.”

“i’m so tired.”

“and you’re hurt.”

“it’s not that bad actually, this one’s actually a scratch.”

“bullshit.” you mumble, quickly rushing over to tend to her wound. 

the routine unfolds without much change: you gently clean away the blood, carefully applying disinfectant. minji fights to suppress her cries of pain, but the discomfort is clear in the way her body tenses and reacts. you offer her comfort, your hand resting reassuringly over hers. through the mask, minji gazes at you with a mixture of awe and gratitude, feeling like she’s witnessed rain after a drought.

“thank you.”

“it’s nothing.” you’ve said it countless times, minji’s said it back to you when she was just minji and not someone under a suit that could swing webs, save the day, and get hurt for you to take care of her. “i mean it.”

you sit beside her, your arms pressing comfortably against each other, and lean your head against the cabinet door beneath the counter. 

minji—spiderwoman—is the first to turn her head and look at you. she visibly relaxes as her gaze settles on your side profile. you turn to meet her eyes, offering a soft sigh, feeling a shared calm in the quiet space between you.

“can i,” your voice quiets down to something near a hum. “can i kiss you?”

“w-what?” minji feels her throat go dry and blood rushing to her cheeks, it’s so sudden, you must be more exhausted than her. “i, um, i don’t know if you’d like that. you barely know me.”

“sure i would, spiderwoman.”

minji doesn’t stop you when you reach over to the bottom of her mask, rolling it up. she could stop you, but she’s stuck in place, unable to move despite how risky it is for you to find out who she really is.

there’s no chance you’d stick with her if you knew who she really was, she’s been too comfortable hiding behind this “spiderwoman” persona, hiding who she really is.

you roll the mask up less than halfway, the bottom half of her face exposed to you. the wind hits her skin and she shivers.

minji feels transparent. “i, um–”

“pretty,” you stare hard at her lops, then lean closer. “you’re so pretty.”

“you haven’t seen my whole face.”

“and yet you’re still kissable.”

“y/n, i—“ she cuts herself off, words stopping at her throat as you tilt your head and place a hand where her jaw meets her neck. she begins again, unknowingly leaning closer. “i don’t think you’d be happy with the person under the suit.” she mutters quietly.

“sure i would,” you murmur, then press your lips against hers softly. you feel her kiss back and smile into her. you part just barely, your lips ghosting hers, “kim minji.”

minji hums surprisingly when you kiss her again, still reciprocating but quickly pulling away with a gasp.

“w-what? how did—“ she clears her throat, “who’s kim minji?”

you don’t respond to her question, instead, reaching for the edge of her partially rolled-up mask and laughing softly.

“can i?”

“um,” minji folds when you look at her like that, eyes pleading and face pretty as the moon shines through the window and highlights your features. “yeah…”

you smile at her, removing the mask off her head fully to see your classmate and crush under it. she’s battered up and her hair is messy because of the mask, plus, she looks fatigued. despite this, she just looks cuter in your eyes.

without warning, you lean in again, pressing your lips against hers. minjis eyes widen momentarily before she sinks into your touch, placing a hand on your cheek and melting into you. 

when you two pull away again, you grin at the way the moon shines on her, exposing the deep blush on her cheeks and the nervousness in her features.

“why wouldn’t i want to kiss you?”

“how did you— how’d you find out?”

you shrug. “i’ve liked you for a while now, i didn’t even know it until the night you gave me your hoodie. i mean, i always thought you were cute. i paid more attention to you and all the bruises and scars added up, and i could recognize those lips from a mile away.”

she blushes intensely, the manages to breathe out a small “oh.”

“mhm.” you hum once more before hastily pecking her lips. “you’re so cute.”

“wait, you actually… do you really like me?”

“of course i do minji.”

“it’s not becuase im spiderwoman, right?” 

“no,” you grin at her dumb expression. “i like spiderwoman because she’s you, minji.”

“seriously?”

you groan, looking at her with a stupid ‘are you serious’ expression painted on your face. “do i need to kiss you again?”

“um,” minji starts, but stops herself from being so dense. “yeah, please.”

“okay.” you respond happily, cupping her cheek and closing the distance again. 

you smell like vanilla and feel like snowflakes in the spring. as you cradle her jaw and kiss her softly, minji tries to figure out if she’s dreaming. your arms wrap around her neck, pulling her closer. minji's lips gently hold your top lip, while you play with the ends of her hair, twirling it between your fingers.

“hey, minji?” you pull away to softly mumble against her lips, then minji hums in response. “let’s go out sometime, is that okay?”

“of course, yeah, please.” she sighs lovingly.

yeah, it’s not a dream.

it can’t be because you pull away and look at her like she’s the prettiest flower in a field of nothing. you smile at her, holding her face in your hands like she’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

[hookingminor]

4 times you took care of him + 1 time he took care of you - nico hischier

a/n: rewrite of an old fic of mine

cw: brief mentions of blood, stitches, alcohol

word count: 7.4k

summary: nico is the cute neighbor boy across the hall

-

1. 

Sunday nights were your nights. After a long week of studying and working crazy hours, you only had one day to yourself where you weren’t running around like a chicken with its head cut off and could take five minutes to finally breathe. 

Sundays were also the only days you actually took the time to make yourself dinner. Most of your days were either spent in class or at the hospital, so you never prepared anything that couldn’t be done in less than ten minutes. Sometimes you were so lazy that you just counted on cafeteria food and granola bars to hold you over before having cereal for dinner and crashing by eleven o’clock.

Tonight’s specialty was your own take on a carbonara with some grilled chicken on the top. It wasn’t anything fancy, but you had been working on a recipe to perfect this for nearly three months now, and you were almost satisfied with the results.

It was in the middle of adding the finishing touches by combining the pasta and the sauce when you heard a knock on your door. Setting the towel on the counter and reducing the stove heat to a low simmer, you made your way to answer the door.

“Oh, hi, Nico,” you said with surprise when you saw your neighbor on the other side. He lived across the hall from you, but you rarely saw him in the building. Still, it wasn’t hard to notice that he was incredibly attractive.

“Hi,” he greeted you. The smells of your dinner wafted over him, and he peeked over your head to catch a glimpse of what you were preparing. 

“I just stopped by to drop this off,” he said, handing you an envelope. “They keep mixing up our mailboxes.”

“Thank you,” you replied as you glanced down at the letter. “I have a few for you as well, hold on just a second.”

You turned away from the door and walked back towards the kitchen to where you kept a stash of his mail. You’d been meaning to drop it off, but your hours at home never coincided with each other. 

Granted, you could have slipped it under his door, but you really just wanted an excuse to talk to the cute neighbor boy. You were just waiting until you worked up the nerve to knock on his door.

Nico took a few steps into your apartment, not wanting to overstep but also not wanting to stand in the hall awkwardly as you rummaged through some papers. As he waited, his eyes wandered back over to the stove where you were cooking some type of pasta. 

His stomach growled lowly as the smell of seasoned chicken and sauces flooded his senses, and he realized he hadn’t eaten anything in nearly five hours.

“Sorry,” he said with a blush. There was no way you hadn’t heard that grumble. “Guess I forgot to eat something after practice.”

“Did you want some?” You asked almost too eagerly. “I mean, I made quite a bit,” you backtracked quickly, “I usually survive the week on leftovers.”

“No, it’s okay,” he chuckled, but Nico wanted nothing more than to shove a forkful of whatever you had made into his mouth. “I’ll probably just order something for delivery.”

“Please, I insist,” you persisted, “I made a lot, and your food won’t be here for, like, another hour at least.” God, you were coming off as desperate, and you mentally slapped yourself for it.

He looked at you hesitantly, obviously not wanting to intrude, but damn if he wasn’t really hungry.

You didn’t wait for his reply before dropping the mail back where it was and crossing the kitchen to the stove. Pulling out an extra plate, you began piling it with pasta and chicken, and Nico figured it was too late to refuse you again.

“Take a seat,” you suggested as you plated a dish for yourself. “You’re not an intrusion, I promise. I don’t get a lot of company anyways.”

“Busy life?” Nico asked. It was then that he realized he really didn’t know much about you despite having run into you multiple times in the hallways.

“You could say that,” you chuckled humorlessly. It was a combination of being both busy and having no friends, but you weren’t about to tell him that. 

“What do you do?” He questioned as he rested his elbows on the table.

“I’m a nursing student, so I spend all my time studying or working at the hospital,” you explained as you brought the plates over to the table. He mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ when you set his food down in front of him. It looked delicious. Nico’s skills in the kitchen were subpar to say the least; he couldn’t make anything that didn’t come with box instructions or wasn’t baked chicken and vegetables. So having an actual home cooked meal was starting to feel like Christmas.

“Is that why I only ever see you coming home at midnight?” He wondered, picking up a fork to take a bite.

Nico was right, it was delicious. 

“Yeah, hours are a little crazy for me right now, but they should settle down once I graduate,” you replied as you took a bite. It was your best carbonara yet, but it wasn’t quite perfect. “What about you? Why are you always coming home at midnight?”

You’d never talked to him much after that first day when he helped you with a couple boxes as you moved in. Most of your interactions were restricted to passing each other in the halls and the polite conversation about how your day was going and the weather.

“I, uh, play hockey,” he started, “and we get back from road trips really late sometimes.”

“No shit, really?” Your eyes widened in shock, “like you play for the Devils?” You weren’t well versed in sports in general, and even less so in New Jersey sports. However, you did hear chatter around from your classmates and coworkers about various games.

Nico nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah, I’m the captain.” Every revelation about him continued to shock you.

“So I’m dining with New Jersey royalty then, huh?” You teased after a moment. Even though you didn’t know much, you did know the Devils were doing exceptionally well at the moment.

He blushed at your compliment, “I’m not royalty.”

“Your team’s current record says otherwise given the team’s horrendous past ,” you commented, dropping the little bit of knowledge you knew as you overheard your lab partner go on about the Devils’ hot streak.

Nico raised his eyebrows in surprise at your statement.

“I’m not an actual fan, so don’t test me,” you chuckled at his surprise, “My lab partner is always talking about the Devils, and I may have unknowingly processed some of the information.”

“It’s not because of me. The team’s just doing well in general,” he brushed it off casually, but you knew that wasn’t totally the case. The team may be good, but good leadership can be what makes or breaks them.

“So you’re not a big cook then, I presume?” You asked instead, changing the subject to something else. Nico probably talked about hockey enough with other people, you didn’t want to bore him even more.

“You could say that,” he said, repeating your phrase from earlier. “If it’s not something a seven year old could make, it’s not something I could make.” He had barely registered that he’d finished off everything on his plate by now while you were still finishing yours.

“Did you want more?” You asked, noticing his empty plate, but Nico shook his head.

“No, thank you, this was more than enough,” Nico insisted. “I’ve bothered you enough tonight.”

“Really, I don’t mind,” you said, clearing off your plate. “It’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t asking me about upcoming exams or patient reports or asking for more painkillers.”

“It’s nice not talking about hockey, too,” he agreed.

Rising from your seat, you took his plate and yours to the sink as you were both now finished.

“I got this,” Nico said quickly, following you to the sink and lightly hip checking you out the way. “I do know basic manners. You cooked, so I’ll clean.”

You opened your mouth to argue with him, but the look on his face said the conversation was already over, and he grabbed the sponge with one hand. Deciding to leave it alone, you held your hands up in surrender and backed away from the sink. While he was busy, you packed up the leftovers into a plastic container.

“I make dinner every Sunday,” you said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “So, if you want, you’re always free to join me.” You didn’t look at him when you said this, trying to keep it casual and so he wouldn’t see the way your face was riddled with embarrassment. You were trying to subtly ask him to come over more, and you didn’t want to be faced with his rejection.

You heard the sink shutoff and saw his body turn towards yours out of the corner of your eyes as he leaned against the counter.

“I’d really like that,” he said, “but I do have one condition though.” You looked up and met his gaze with raised brows.

“You have to teach me how to cook,” he continued with an easy grin as he dried off his hands with a towel.

“You’ve got a deal,” you agreed, matching his smile with one of your own.

You sent Nico home that night with the leftover carbonara and his mail despite his protests, but you argued that he couldn’t live off takeout forever and that you could always make more food whereas he could not.

The next Sunday he had showed up around dinner time once again, this time bringing over a plate of cookies that he most definitely bought at the store but tried to play off as baking them himself. He had said if you were going to be doing a majority of the work, the least he could do was bring you something in return.

Every Sunday after that Nico was at your place. On the off chance he was out of town, he always left you a note on your door saying he wouldn’t be making it and notifying you of when he’d see you next. You didn’t need the notes, he didn’t have to tell you whether or not he was coming, but they made your heart flutter every time you came home and saw a blue sticky note waiting for you. 

You taught him a few staple dishes, mainly how to cook pasta and rice and some salads. His capabilities weren’t all that vast, and he wanted to remain in the realm of foods that weren’t too complicated so he couldn’t fuck up.

Making dinner with Nico turned into messing around in the kitchen for a couple hours most of the time. You teased him about his chopping abilities and he teased you every time your small hands dropped something due to your lack of coordination, to which you complained how not everyone could be a professional athlete. 

And every time you two ate at your same spots at the table, sometimes splitting a bottle of wine that Nico would bring over. 

Every once in a while Nico would arrive with a bag of takeout in his hand, declaring that you needed a break from all the cooking. There was no reason to have dinner together since it wasn’t under the guise of teaching him something new, but you still welcomed him nonetheless.

Sundays were no longer your nights, but that was perfectly fine by you as long as you could keep sharing them with Nico.

-

2. 

Nico was getting a little desperate. 

Two months had passed since he started coming over for weekly dinners, and he was making no progress. It’s not like he was really trying, though. If he was being honest, he wasn’t quite sure how to flirt with a woman without the intention of sleeping with her.

Which isn’t to say he didn’t want to sleep with you because he definitely did, it just wasn’t all that he wanted.

He hoped he conveyed interest on his part, but he wasn’t positive you were picking up on his hints. Or maybe you just weren’t into him.

So, he decided to take it one step further. He bought some plants.

Nico knew next to nothing about plants other than that they needed water, but he’d noticed you kept a few in your apartment near your large window.

Once again, he found himself knocking on your door, but this time you weren’t expecting it.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked him when you opened the door. It wasn’t like him to show up to your place out of the blue.

“I wanted to ask you a favor,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ve got a week long roadie and was wondering if, maybe, you’d look after my plants?”

“Oh yeah, definitely, I can do that,” you said with a smile.

“Do you have a minute right now? I can show them to you really quick,” he asked, gesturing with his arm to his door. You nodded your head in agreement, and Nico took a few steps backward to let you into his apartment.

You followed him through the entrance and paused briefly. His apartment layout was the exact same as yours only flipped. He walked until he hit the same balcony window where you kept your plants, and you saw he had about four small pots along with a large pot that sat in the corner.

“This is the gang,” he introduced, spreading his arms to show them off.

“This is so cute,” you chuckled, stepping closer to get a better look at the plants. You noticed one of them was also one you had.

“I’m going to be honest,” he started. “I only recently bought them, so I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“Well, they seem to be still living, so you haven’t done anything too bad,” you teased lightly.

“Oh, let me get the spare key for you,” he said suddenly before he turned and left you alone to fetch the key.

Nico returned less than a minute later, small black key fob in his hand. You opened your hand for him to place it in your palm.

“When will you be back?” You asked, stretching back up from your squatted position.

“Next Wednesday,” he clarified, “and I leave tomorrow.” You nodded.

There wasn’t much more to say, so you told him a brief ‘good luck’ on his roadie before leaving. Returning to your own, you made a mental note to check in on his plants tomorrow.

The following afternoon, you let yourself into Nico’s apartment with the key he’d given you. You read the sticky note he left for you on the counter, the words reading ‘in case of an emergency’ along with his phone number.

You rolled your eyes at the note, laughing lightly at his phrasing of ‘in case of an emergency.’ You hardly thought watering plants would cause a catastrophic event, but the gesture was cute.

Filling up a few cups of water, you made your way over to his plants and distributed the water throughout until you’d gone over all of them. Before you could think better of it, you snapped a picture of the plants in the window before opening a text thread to Nico.

You: First day all done! :)

He didn’t reply for a few hours, but that was okay because you hadn’t expected him to reply at all.

Nico: They’re looking better already!

Ever since that first day, you began exchanging messages. His replies were sporadic, but you didn’t mind; he was a busy guy. Still, he managed to text you whenever he could, and your conversations quickly turned away from his plants to other subjects. 

You recommended some new shows for him to watch while he was on road trips, and he told you where his favorite takeout restaurants were when you felt too lazy to cook. 

Honestly, Sundays didn’t feel the same without him, but you didn’t tell him you stopped cooking when he didn’t show up.

Even when Nico was back in town, you found yourself texting him frequently in your classes and also on your breaks, and Nico found himself waking up every morning looking forward to whatever message you’d sent after he’d fallen asleep.

-

3. 

The incessant pounding at your door woke you up from your sleep. You knew who it was immediately as there was only one person who visited you, and you were ready to yell at him after you answered the door. 

Throwing on a sweatshirt, you stomped your way to the door and shouted out, “I’m coming!” so Nico could take the hint to shut the hell up.

“Oh my god, Nico,” you groaned as you threw open the door, “It’s two in the fucking morning.” But it wasn’t Nico you were greeted with.

Or rather, he wasn’t the only one outside the door.

“Uh, hi,” a man said as Nico leaned against him, very obviously drunk.

“Hi?” You asked, your eyes flicking over to the drunken Nico.

“I think he lost his key,” the stranger said, “and then he was knocking on your door before I could take him back to my place.”

“Of course,” you sighed. “You love bothering me, don’t you, Nico?”

“Y/N,” he slurred your name when he heard your voice. “I told you she was beautiful, Hughes.” He clearly meant to whisper the last part into his friend’s ear, but his impaired state changed his whisper into a quiet shout.

“Alright, buddy, let’s keep it down,” his friend said with a chuckle as he tried to spare him from saying something else embarrassing.

“Do you still have my key? I forgot mine,” Nico asked instead, lifting his eyes to yours.

“I left it in your apartment last time I watered the plants,” you answered and Nico let out an annoyed groan.

“It’s fine, he can stay here tonight,” you said, addressing his friend this time.

“You sure? I don’t want to bother you,” his friend insisted. “I can just bring him back to my place.”

“Don’t worry about it, you already dragged him all the way here. I can handle it,” you said and opened the door further.

His friend lugged him into your apartment and led Nico to the couch, plopping him down on the cushions.

“Thanks for doing this. I’m sorry for waking you,” he apologized once Nico was settled.

“No problem, I’m used to him interrupting my nights,” you chuckled lightly, though it sounded more sexual than you intended for it to.

“Yeah, well,” the stranger said with an awkward laugh, “I’ll get out of your hair then.” And then he turned to leave. “Hischier! Text me in the morning!” He called out one last time and Nico grumbled his acknowledgement. Then his friend was gone, leaving you alone with a drunken twenty-something year old.

“Alright, Nico, let’s get you ready for bed,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. He was splayed out on his back on your couch, head lolled against a decorative pillow. If it weren’t for his indecipherable sounds, you would’ve thought he was asleep.

You left him alone for a minute as you retreated back to your room to grab a couple extra blankets and a pillow that wouldn’t end up hurting his neck.

When you returned, Nico was now on his stomach with one arm dangled off the couch.

“Feeling okay, bud?” You asked gently, brushing back a few strands of his hair to check if he was still awake. He hummed a quiet ‘yeah’ and you lifted his head to replace the throw pillow with a fluffier one from your bed.

You draped one large blanket over his body and then set another smaller one on top of that. Nico sighed in content and you made a quick trip to the kitchen to retrieve a couple Advil pills and a glass of water.

“Can you drink this before you fall asleep?” You asked when you got back to the living room. 

Despite his intoxication, Nico managed to sit up just enough to swallow the pills down with a drink of water before flopping his head back down. You set the half-full glass on the coffee table and leaned over to turn off the lamp.

“You good to sleep?” You questioned, and Nico nodded his head to the best of his ability.

“I’ll be in my room if you need anything,” you said finally, making your way back to the hallway.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said quietly before you were out of hearing range, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Nico,” you murmured with a small smile.

-

4.

“How the hell did this even happen? Sticks are supposed to remain on the ice, you know,” you wondered with curiosity. 

Nico knocked on your door at nearly midnight, hair still damp from his shower and still in his Devils sweats. If it weren’t for the fact that you were awake and watching a movie, you wouldn’t have noticed the knocking. 

When you opened the door, you were met with split stitches and tired eyes. Ushering him into your apartment, you led him to the bathroom where you kept the first-aid. 

Nico pushed himself up so he could sit on your counter and gave you a sheepish smile.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “They stitched me up after the game, but they came out.”

“So, why didn’t you contact your trainers or something?” You inquired, opening your kit and grabbing the alcohol.

“Because I have a perfectly good nurse here at home to stitch me back up,” he answered with an easy grin. You gave him an incredulous look.

“It seems like I’m constantly getting the short end of the stick in this relationship,” you said as you stepped between his legs to inspect his face. It wasn’t anything serious, just a few stitches that broke. In all honesty, he probably could’ve survived the night without fixing it, but you weren’t going to turn down an opportunity to be this close to him.

“Close your eyes,” you ordered before he could say anything back. Nico followed your instruction obediently, fluttering his eyes shut as if he had all the time in the world.

Using a small pair of scissors, you snipped at the remaining stitches. You took the tweezers next and gently pulled at the broken strands, slowly removing them from his cheek. Nico’s eyes twitched slightly at the discomfort, but he said nothing as you reopened his wound.

“You’re really good at this,” he stated, and you noticed that he had opened one eye to watch you. You blushed at his compliment, your cheeks heating at the warm feeling you got when you looked into his eyes.

Averting his gaze, you muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ before opening an alcohol pad.

“You’re going to want to really close your eyes for this, it might burn,” you recommended. The cut was along his cheekbone, stretching about three inches and oozing just a little bit of blood.

You cleaned along the cut lightly, one of your hands cupping his cheek while the other managed the wipe. After throwing the bloodied pad off to the side, you brought out the small bottle of lidocaine you had stashed away underneath all your bandaids. You squeezed a bit onto a cotton swab and dabbed the area around the cut. The lidocaine took a few minutes to kick in, so you busied yourself by preparing the thread and sanitizing the needle.

“I want you to know that I’m not actually a certified nurse yet. I’m still in training,” you explained. “So, if this hurts it’s your fault.”

“I trust you,” he said simply with a smirk.

“I would hope so,” you scoffed, “You’re letting a nursing student with a needle stitch near the eye of the New Jersey Devils Captain.”

“Besides, if you fuck up, I’ll just blame it on you when we lose after I can’t play because I’ve been blinded,” he teased.

“Don’t even joke about that, Nico. All of New Jersey would burn me alive,” you said, slugging his arm in response.

Was he about to let a beautiful, uncertified girl stitch him back together just because he wanted an excuse to spend more time with her? Absolutely.

He gave you a light chuckle as he leaned back on his hands, the fabric of his t-shirt stretching deliciously over his broad chest. It took everything in you to not linger your eyes over his arms and how large they looked right now.

“Is it numb yet?” You asked instead, refocusing your attention on threading the needle.

“Yeah, I think so,” he replied, bringing a couple fingers to poke at his cheek, but you swatted his hand away before he could do more damage.

Taking the same position as before, you stood between his legs again and angled his head slightly to the side so you could examine it under better light.

“Just let me know if it hurts, okay?” You insisted, holding the needle between your tweezers. You waited for Nico’s nod of agreement before starting.

You punctured the skin with the point and crossed the wound before poking through the other side. Nico’s hands instinctively reached out to grasp at your hips as he breathed in a sharp breath of air. 

“Oh my god, is it not numb?” You panicked, pausing all your movements as you gauged his face for any signs of pain.

“It stung a little bit,” he replied, but the tightened grip on your waist said otherwise. “I was just a little shocked, is all.” He added that last part when he saw the worry spread across your face as your eyes widened in fear of hurting him. “Keep going, I’m fine.”

You gave him a hesitant look, not wanting to continue if it was going to cause him pain. This time when he squeezed your sides, it was to reassure you and encourage you to continue. 

Nico kept his hands where they were, sliding his thumbs just underneath the hem of your shirt to trace soft circles into your skin. Recommencing your movements, you repeated the same crisscrossing threads over his cut, trying to work as quickly as possible.

When you’d finished, you knotted off the ends, clipped the remaining thread, and applied a salve over the sealed wound.

“There you go,” you said as you finished touching him up.

“And my kiss to make it feel better?” He asked with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at his presumptuousness but leaned in to press a light kiss near his stitches.

“Can I trust you to not pull them out again?” You retorted, stepping out of his grip to clean up your supplies.

“I don’t know…” he trailed off as in deep contemplation, “I might need you to spend the night and keep an eye on me.”

“Nice try, bud,” you chuckled, “but it’s not going to happen.” He pouted. 

“And if you do tear them again, I’m not restitching it.”

You finished packing away your materials and walked Nico back to your front door.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said when you opened the door. 

“Anytime,” you replied, “Goodnight, Nico.”

Leaning forward, he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek in appreciation before crossing the few feet to his door. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your eyes widened in shock, but if he did see, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

-

+ 1 

For the first time since you’ve met Nico, it was finally your turn to cancel on dinner. You really didn’t want to, as the dinners with him were the highlight of your week, but you knew if you broke concentration for even a minute to entertain him, your mind would be thinking about him even after he left. And you were not going to pass the NCLEX if Nico was invading all of your thoughts. You’d been studying for this exam for months, but now it was a week out and it was crunch time.

You: Gotta cancel on dinner Sunday, sorry :(

Nico: Going out of town? Got a hot date?

You: The only dates I’ll be having for the next week is between me and my millions of notes for my board exam 

Nico: Stressed out?

You: You wouldn’t even believe, so if I’m MIA for a few days, don’t worry 

Nico: Are we still on for next Sunday?

You: Yes. We will either be celebrating or commiserating, so get your wine ready

Nico: I’ll bring over the best since we’ll be celebrating :)

You didn’t know how to reply, so you reacted to his message with a thumbs up before leaving him on read.

-

For the next few days, you studied your ass off. Sunday came, but when six o’clock rolled around, you couldn’t help your thoughts from straying from your studies and over to what you would be doing with Nico if it weren’t for this stupid exam.

And as if he had read your mind, your phone dinged with a new text message.

Nico: Open your door

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you read the text, and you were just about to tell him off for disturbing you after you already told him you didn’t have the time.

However, that wasn’t the case because when you opened your door, Nico was nowhere to be found although a paper bag rested on the ground in front of you. 

Cautiously, you picked up the bag and brought it inside, immediately smelling the tzatziki sauce from your favorite Greek restaurant.

You: What’s this?

You texted him, along with a picture of the bag.

Nico: Even if we aren’t making dinner, you should still eat, and I figured gyros were better than cereal 

He was right. You had planned on pouring yourself a bowl of cereal when the hunger became too much and forced you to take a break. And gyros definitely were better than Frosted Flakes.

You: You’re a lifesaver, truly. Thank you!

Nico opened the message and didn’t reply, even though he really wanted to, but he knew you had studying to do and the last thing he wanted was to distract you.

-

After pulling an all-nighter, Sunday slowly turned into Monday, and you had finally decided to go to bed at nine on Monday morning. The few hours of sleep you got were welcomed, but rest did little to calm yourself down. The exam was on Friday, and you still had four years worth of material to remember. 

So, you dragged yourself out of bed around three in the afternoon and plopped yourself on the ground in front of your couch where all your notes were still spread on the floor.

You’d gotten through about four chapters in your review book before you heard a knock at the door. 

Pushing yourself up by your hands, you crossed the length of the apartment to the door. If it was Nico, he was about to be really turned off by how messy you looked.

And once again, it wasn’t him. 

Just like yesterday, something awaited you in front of your door. This time, it was a four cup drink tray filled with different coffees. 

Picking them up off the ground, you walked it back into your home and set it on your kitchen counter. There was a blue sticky note attached to the top in true Nico style, and you were smiling at the familiar handwriting before you even read what it said.

Thought you could use a pick-me-up :)

PS: I didn’t know what you liked, but you’re NOT allowed to drink these all at once

You chuckled at the last sentence. Of course he would send you four different orders because he didn’t know what you wanted. In all honesty, you could survive on just plain black coffee with nothing added if needed, but the fact that he sent you options had your heart swelling. 

You scanned through each cup, reading the labels on each one as they ranged from a standard black coffee to a sweet caramel latte, all of them iced (you had mentioned once that you only drank iced coffee, even in the middle of the winter). It didn’t slip your mind that this was from that expensive shop a few blocks down, the one you could only allow yourself to go to once a month because you knew it would drain you quickly.

Deciding to tease Nico a little bit, you stuck a straw in every single lid. You connected all four straws in the middle and closed your lips over them and took a drink. The resulting taste wasn’t fantastic, but it was worth the funny selfie you took drinking them that you sent to Nico.

You: What was it that I wasn’t allowed to do? Your note wasn’t clear 

Nico: I’m never sending you coffee again

-

On Tuesday, Nico sent you a bouquet of sunflowers. They were massive and bright and you couldn’t see over them as you placed them on the table.

Hope these sunflowers brighten up your day

-

On Wednesday, Nico got back from his short roadie. Maybe it was the constant studying, or maybe it was the little gifts Nico sent you, but your stress levels seemed to calm down as the week went on. There was still the pressure to do well, but every time Nico sent something to you, it was as if everything became a little bit more manageable.

You invited him over to hang out for a little bit, just to thank him for the things he’d done for you. You expected him to stay for a few minutes, maybe a half hour at the most, and then you’d send him home with some cookies you’d baked for him. Instead, he grabbed the plate of cookies and made himself comfortable on your couch.

“You just made these?” He asked with a mouthful of cookie as he picked up a stack of flashcards. You nodded as you took a seat on the opposite side of the couch.

“What’s the therapeutic drug level for theo… theoph…” he began to say, but trailed off, “Never mind. I was trying to help, but I can’t pronounce any of these words.” He ended the sentence with a chuckle before flicking the flashcard over to you.

“The word is theophylline,” you laughed, “and the answer is 10-20 micrograms per deciliter.”

“I understand none of those words, so that probably means it’s right,” he said as he finished his second cookie.

“If you want to help me I know something you can do,” you said eagerly, “And you don’t even have to speak, just sit there and look pretty.”

“That I can do,” he agreed with a nod and sat up to place the cookies on the coffee table. “Where do you want me?”

“Right there is fine. I’m just going to do a standard routine checkup like you’d get at the doctor’s,” you explained, grabbing your small bag of medical tools.

You ran through your procedure, checking your notes periodically to make sure you asked all the questions. Nico had no problem being your puppet, even answering some questions with ridiculous answers.

“And are you sexually active?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He asked with an eyebrow wiggle. You gave him an unamused glare.

“It’s part of the questions, dumbass,” you rolled your eyes and Nico laughed. “Never mind, I already know the answer anyway.”

“That was one time!” He groaned as he flopped his head back against the cushion. You were obviously referring to the one time you had a run in with one of his hookups. “I haven’t had anyone here since then.”

“Thank god for that,” you muttered, “but she did seem like a nice girl.”

Nico gave you a disbelieving look. You’d ran into them as you were returning from an overnight shift at nearly seven in the morning as Nico was trying to get rid of her, but she was hoping to get another date out of him before she left.

It was an awkward interaction to say the least, and Nico immediately called over to you to get your attention. The girl was displeased because you were interrupting their conversation and also because Nico had used you as an excuse to get out of scheduling another date.

“Oh, Y/N, you still needed me to fix that thing for you, right?” He had asked when he saw you walking down the hall. It took you all of two seconds to process the situation and Nico’s panicked and pleading eyes before you were agreeing. You even threw in the fact that it was urgent and that he needed to help right now, to which the girl gave you an eye roll.

Needless to say, Nico thanked you profusely for saving his ass and never called the girl again. That was over three months ago, and you had yet to see another girl leave his apartment.

“Well, I think I’m done with all the questions,” you concluded finally. “I think it’s safe to say you are in impeccable shape, Mr. Hischier.”

“Is this your subtle way of kicking me out?” He asked.

“Technically, I never invited you to stay. You kind of just sat here and made yourself at home,” you replied.

“I’m sorry for wanting to catch up with my friend after not seeing her in a week,” he joked.

“And you’re going to have to wait another few days for that, bud,” you chuckled.

“Fine, fine,” he conceded, “I’ll go, but I’m taking the cookies.”

“They were yours to begin with, idiot.”

-

On Thursday, you received one final package. It was a wrapped box, obviously done by someone who’s never wrapped a gift in their life. 

Opening it, there was Nico’s same scrawl on the familiar blue sticky note.

Something to look forward to after you ace this exam tomorrow!

Underneath the note was a ticket to a Devils game on Sunday against Vancouver, but it wasn’t the only thing in the box. You pulled out a red sweatshirt with the New Jersey Devils logo on the front. There was nothing on the back, but the number ‘13’ could be seen on both sleeves.

The thought of Nico sending you something with his number on it had your cheeks heating instantly. He’d been teasing you about coming to a game, and it seemed you finally had a reason to go now.

-

After you took your exam, it was like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Your school days were behind you now, and you could now start your career. The exam results still took six weeks, but you were feeling pretty confident in yourself.

Nico had texted you instructions to wait for him after the game on Sunday. He wanted you to try and meet him somewhere, but your navigation skills were terrible and you were sure to get lost in an arena you’d never been in.

So, you met him outside his car in the parking lot where the team parked.

“There he is,” you called out, clapping, when you saw him exit the arena, “First star of the night with two goals, Captain Nico Hischier!” You gave him your best announcer voice.

“Shut up,” he replied with a chuckle, but his face was beaming with a wide smile.

“Good game tonight,” you said with a smile of your own. “Trying to impress someone?”

By this time, Nico had reached the car, and he was dropping his bag on the ground before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground in a hug.

“I’m always trying to impress you,” he mumbled against your hair before he set you back down.

“Well, consider me impressed,” you gushed. 

“I was thinking...” Nico said after a moment.

“Uh oh,” you interjected with a worried look.

“Don’t be a dork,” he chuckled. “I was thinking that instead of going back home and making dinner I can take you out tonight instead.”

“Celebratory dinner for your win?” You questioned.

“And for your exam,” he added, “And also maybe as a date?” Nico said the last part quietly and quickly averted your gaze.

“Are you asking me on a date, Nico?” You asked for clarification, but the smile on your face was spreading wider as the seconds passed.

“Yes, I am,” he said with a deep swallow.

You squinted your eyes, as if in deep contemplation.

“Well, I’ve only been waiting, like, months for you to ask me,” you teased. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“Really?” He asked, eyes bright as he reached out to pull you closer to his body. You hummed in agreement and connected your hands behind his neck.

“I was starting to think you’d never get the hint,” you said quietly.

“I was just waiting for the right time,” he insisted, hands resting on your hips, “And if I’m being honest, I really want to kiss you right now.”

You didn’t answer him in words. Instead, you pushed up on your tip-toes and leaned in to connect your lips to his. The kiss was soft, neither of you wanting to push too far too fast. He moved his lips against yours gently, taking his time to convey how he felt about you.

When you finally pulled back to catch your breath, you both had stupid looks on your face as you were both giddy with joy.

“Atta boy, Cap!” A loud voice shouted across the lot along with some hoots, and you let your head fall against Nico’s chest as you chuckled to yourself.

“Fuck off, Jack!” Nico yelled back before dipping his head down to kiss the top of yours. “Ignore him, he’s annoying. Let’s get out of here before they try and come over.”

“Lead the way,” you said, breaking apart so you could climb in his car. 

-

Six weeks later, your results came in.

You let yourself into Nico’s unlocked apartment. Ever since you started dating, it just seemed a lot easier to leave your apartments unlocked during the day so you could easily bounce between places.

“Nico, it’s here!” You exclaimed, spotting him on the couch. He looked up from whatever show he was watching and paused it immediately when he saw the envelope in your hands.

You basically sprinted across the room and plopped down onto his lap before shoving it into his hands.

“You open it, I can’t do it,” you murmured against the side of his head, your arms slinging over his shoulders as one of his arms wrapped around your waist.

Nico chuckled as he ripped open the paper and pulled out the letter.

“What does it say?” You asked, your head tucked into his neck so you couldn’t read the results.

“Babe…” he said softly, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” You asked worriedly, peeling yourself from his neck to read the letter yourself.

Congratulations! You have passed the NCLEX exam!

You didn’t even bother to read the rest of the letter once you’d read those first two sentences.

“You asshole, that wasn’t funny!” You said, pushing his head away from you as he laughed.

“I thought it was kind of funny,” he replied, “And now my girlfriend is officially a sexy nurse.” Nico pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

“You better get that idea out of your head right now,” you said warningly, already knowing where his thoughts were headed.

“All jokes aside, I’m proud of you, baby,” he said happily.

“I probably would’ve combusted from stress had it not been for your little gifts,” you admitted.

“What can I say? I was so whipped for you,” he said.

“You really were, weren’t you? The flowers and the sweatshirt with your number on it…” you teased, and he poked your side in retaliation.

“Kidding,” you giggled happily, “and I’m whipped for you, too, Nico.”

[jay-joy113]

Soft boyfriend Jason Todd

Who doesn't judge the way your hair is messy at morning afther you had a good night of cuddles and love making.

He combs your hair and tells you how cute you are.

I hope you dont work at an morning shift, because he WILL try to make you spend more time at bed.

He will be like "why so early babe? Why dont we snuggle for a bit" and boom, you are late to work.

If you maybe wonder how you werent fired yet, it may or may not have been orchastrated by an certain vigilante.

If you know hes red hood, there will be sex with uniform. Sorry, i dont make the rules. He will try to role play as a rougher guy only to fumble in the middle because he cant fanthon the idea of hurting you 🥺

He will hug you close as he hammers his fat cock cutely into your hole. A praiser, it seems he doesn't even know your name, youll forever be princess/ prince/ royalty to him.

"Come on, babe, you can come again cant you? I love you so much"

Ah Yes, he WILL also drop a lot of L- word. Even when you arent fuking- no, making love.

At first its difficult for him to say, but one day when he sees you softly snorring in his chest he knew "they are the one"

Thanks for reading

[icydrinkz]

“HEY EMO BOY!”

Headcanon’s/Story

F!Reader x HotTopicWorker!Choso

WARNINGS - MDNI: F! fingering, squirting, afab reader, pinv (unprotected), creampie, perv choso, rough sex, dom!Choso, public sex (f! receiving), fluff, happy ending. PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED ANY!!

Note: THOUHT I MIGHT TRY SOMETHING NEWWW..I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS AND PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU WANT MOREE! (Why was this easier to do than a SMAU for me 😐) oh and also this is my first time writing stuff like this so please give me some feedback!

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HotTopicWorker!Choso who thought that you were drop dead gorgeous as you asked him where the MCR shirts were as he was restocking inventory, even tho they had a big MCR section right in front … but he didn’t mind helping you!

HotTopicWorker!Choso who chuckled to himself at your comment on his Green Day shirt, saying that you thought it was an awesome band, thinking you were cute for messing up your words trying to compliment him.

HotTopicWorker!Choso who feels sad and lonely when you leave the store after he helped you, helping out other customers, none with the same effect as you had on him, hoping by some luck he sees you again

HotTopicWorker!Choso who was overly joyed when he saw your beautiful face walk into the store a week later, seeing that you were wearing the MCR shirt he helped you pick out made his heart flutter

HotTopicWorker!Choso who was happy when you remembered him, starting to make small talk with him about your week as he tries to listen to you but is to distracted by your lips and the way they move when you talk

HotTopicWorker!Choso who is speechless when you give him your phone number and name before you leave the store, making his heart flutter even more, making sure he puts your number in his phone and texts you right away

HotTopicWorker!Choso who is getting ready for bed as you texted him back when he was brushing his teeth, ending up pulling a all nighter texting you about randomness, forgetting that he has to get up and work tomorrow but it’s all worth it when you ask him to hangout outside the mall after his shift this weekend

HotTopicWorker!Choso who is finishing up his shift at hot topic as he sees you walk in, looking even more beautiful then ever just for him and yours walk in the park “hangout”, not knowing how a loser like him could have gotten a date with someone so beautiful as yourself

HotTopicWorker!Choso who’s palms get really sweaty when you guy are holding hands while walking in the park together, being extremely nervous, but all the nervous thoughts go away once you point out a cafe you wanted to go into with him

HotTopicWorker!Choso who’s face goes red as a tomato when you kiss him at the end of your guys date, your lips being so soft against his rough, eaten up ones, even after you pulled away he could still taste you in his mouth, waiting more but to afraid to ask

HotTopicWorker!Choso who doesn’t care if its perverted if he fucks his fist late at night to the memory of your lips on his, thinking about what they would feel wrapped around his loser cock, finishing in his fist as he texts you with one hand if you wanted to come to work with him tomorrow

HotTopicWorker!Choso who as soon as you sent him a text back saying “Sure why not?” with a little smiley face at the end, he was already thinking about all the possible ways he could make you cum in the break room

HotTopicWorker!Choso who had a big smile on his face as he let you walk into the mall next to him, early enough for him to get the store set up, letting you sit around the store as he worked his shift until his break time came up

HotTopicWorker!Choso who had you pinned against the wall, in the middle of a heated make out session, his pants getting impossibly tighter in his back skinny jeans as you begin to touch all over his body with your soft fingertips

HotTopicWorker!Choso who only has 15 minutes left of his break time but bets he can make you cum in 5, he say as he begins to finger you roughly, hitting your g-spot repeatedly as you moan in pleasure, telling him to not stop

HotTopicWorker!Choso who if he wants to win this bet only has 3 minutes left, he starts to finger you faster, not wanting to be called a loser as he already as been called many times before, not waiting to hear it from you, he feels you clench around him, your gummy walls sucking up his fingers, making his dick twitch in his pants

HotTopicWorker!Choso who has you squirting around his fingers with 1 minute to spare, meaning he won but he still has 11 minutes left of his break, deciding to lick your slick clean off his fingers and he starts undoing his belt

HotTopicWorker!Choso who knows he has a big cock and loves seeing you whine when he starts thrusting himself slowly in from the behind, you saying a mix of “oh my god choso!” And “F-fuck choso you’re so big..” making him wanna fuck you even faster

HotTopicWorker!Choso who starts thrusting faster inside of you, loving the way your moans and whimpers sound like when your close, thinking they are probably the best sounds he’s ever heard and that’s a lot coming from a hot topic employee that loves listening to different kinds of music

HotTopicWorker!Choso who has you cumming around his cock in no time, your gummy walls squeezing him for all he’s worth, he ends up cumming inside you with a loud grunt, apologizing shortly after he did so without a condom saying that you were making it hard for him not to

HotTopicWorker!Choso who cleans you up with 2 minutes left of his break and makes sure you’re okay before he goes back to working, apologizing that he couldn’t do proper aftercare in his time crunch, hoping you didn’t believe he was a terrible person

HotTopicWorker!Choso whose shift is ending in a few short minutes, seeing you walk out of the break room, dressed in some random clothes you found in the back, him still thinking you look as beautiful as ever

HotTopicWorker!Choso who is over joyed when you ask him nervously to be your boyfriend on a random date you guys went on and who is he to say no? Of course he said yes! He loved you so much, no words could ever describe it

HotTopicWorker!Choso who is happy with his life with you, he ends up getting you a job at Hot Topic together! And oh boy is he glad that a few months ago you asked where the MCR section was even though it was right there when you walked in, Now thinking maybe you did it on purpose

I really hope this doesn’t flop 😖🙏