#the trinity is more than two

[misterpseudonym]

shoutout to grace chasity for rhyming room with room

[anonymouscheeses]

Hazbin hotel theory (not circus related 🙄)

So we all know Charlie and Vaggie resemble alot of Lucifer and Lillith right?

Lucifer is a fallen angel and Vaggie is a fallen angel. Both sacrificing so much for their lovers. Both having different ideals and beliefs aside from the majority of heaven, because of that they both end up in hell. Also literal head over heels for their wives. Lucifer still wears his ring and Vaggie has very few scenes outside of Charlie.

Charlie and Lillith are both demons, although I guess Lillith is more human I think. But, they both fit in the other category. They both have fallen angel lovers. It's said in the opening cutscene that Lillith was an activist who sang as a way to influence. Charlie is an activist who sings in "ready for this" to persuade the cannibals to join her fight against heaven.

Personality and design wise though, Charlie and Lucifer are the most similar. Lillith and Vaggie? From what we've seen Lillith seemed loving in her pictures but calm and serious at the majority, if that doesn't describe Vaggie I don't know what does. Also Lillith wears purple and Vaggie is at this point purple coded 💀

It's implied that Lucifer had romantic or at the least smeggsual 🤭 relations to Eve. Sure it could have been a joke/lie, but clearly Adam gets pissed and doesn't say that he's wrong. I'd like to think Lillith and Eve also had romantic ties but there's not enough shown of them to make even an evidential guess. It's obvious tho that Lucifer at least was with the both of them at some point. (Maybe even Eve gave birth to Charlie since Lillith was cursed with miscarriages. At least if Viv still wants to keep that. No. No... Lucifer did NOT give birth to Charlie... youre jst weird... /j)

So... if Lucifer, Lillith, and Eve were once all in a polycule or at least a vee(two date one)....

who would be the one that stands in as Eve since Charlie and Vaggie are Lillith and Lucifer?

Plot twist. I'm a two and half halo shipper. It's Emily yall... ���

HEAR MEE OUTTT!!!

In this image below, Vaggie is jealous that Charlie is holding Emily's hands(YES. CHARLIE IS HOLDING HER HANDS, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND. Charlie is very touchy sshh) which is kind of weird they would include that tiny scene. Sure, it could just be comedic but what's comedy except a person who looks too much into a small 1 millisecond scene. It still puts in a dynamic that at first isn't implied to be romantic but! But, having this one scene still creates a slightly romantic undertone dynamic. Even if it's not heavily implied, Vaggie sees Emily as someone who's taking moves on her girlfriend. (Which could also imply Lillith and Eve's first impression before they got in a polycule.)

What I'm about to say is pure speculation, there still isn't much to go off of in the show at the moment with these six. But I think I have some points that maayyy just be smart for an idiot like me :3. Emily is an angel yes, but we aren't sure what Eve's fate was, where she went or what happened to her after. Maybe she stayed with Adam(after the creation of sin), and if Adam could go to heaven, a man who also ate the apple, then I believe Eve could too, it doesn't matter who started(assuming Adam did eat the apple in the show. Most likely.) What I like to speculate is that Eve went to heaven with Adam, although she didn't feel happy in their marriage and decided to make herself a fallen angel to be with Lucifer and Lillith, her true lovers.

Now the similarities with Eve and Emily? They both are against the ideas of those higher than them in heaven. Emily is against the idea of extermination in hell because she feels its unnecessary genocide. Eve went against heavens orders and ate the apple from Lucifer for knowledge. Oh also look haha their hair is kinda similar in the images below(not actual evidence but still its kinda cool) That's where the current canon similarities end. But ofc the big well known theory is that Emily will become a fallen angel because she goes against Sera's wishes. I HOPE she doesn't but in this show? Yeah, most likely. Currently Emily hasn't taken action, but maybe one day she will, which is the most likely situation. And if I'm right that Eve was a fallen angel then that would also be ANOTHER similarity. (Also. Ya'll.... the woman who picked up baby Charlie in "more than anything" was NOT Lillith. Like okay, maybe she is, but that didn't look like her AT ALL. She didn't have the same slick back mullet. But, in the image below, Eve and the woman who picked up baby Charlie have the exact same hair. Jst another thing I wanted to throw in to further evident that Lucifer Lillith and Eve were in a polycule/vee)

I LOVE TWO AND A HALF HALOS SO MUCH GUYSS. PLEASE FEED INTO MY NAIVETY. LUCIFER'S STOLEN WIVES AND CHARLIE'S ANGELS ARE LITERALLY CANON AND NO ONE CAN SAY OTHERWISE TO ME 😭😭

BONUS!! Adam is Lillith's ex rightt??? Well Lute is basically Vaggie's ex. Sure, you could argue that- no. No girl, they was exes, I know, Viv told me herself smhhh..... not only are both Lucifer and Vaggie fallen angels because they had different ideals from heaven, Lillith and Charlie are both activists who use their voice as powers, Eve and Emily go against heaven, BUT LILLITH AND VAGGIE BOTH HAVE EXES??

Bro, Adam and Lute are also besties like? The polycules kicked them out and then they were like, "nuh uh, now we're gonna date eachother since yall don't want us" 😭

Basically what I'm saying is that Lucifer's stolen wives and Charlie's angels are Canon and no one can say otherwise because I'm so smart. If anyone says they aren't just link them to here and BOOM we got another one added to the small ship. Also. This is so underrated. Ya'll.. the potential is so crazy. And since Charlie and Vaggie are already established it would be so intense and adorable to watch Emily try to impress and date them both. Uggghh so.... hyperfixated..... I hope this isn't my special interest now 😭

[sarcasticmirage]

there's been a bit of rgu and fma comparison, so here's my dissertation on why they should kiss

[loftec]

No one tagged me in this but @smilebackwards kindly invited all who wanted to do this and I like to suffer so here we go!

Make a poll with five of your all-time favorite characters and then tag five people to do the same.

This was so hard and I will not tag anyone (except @mittimellan because you don't like polls or making impossible top five lists about media so I can't resist!). But please if you do this tag me so I can vote on your blorbos!

Edit: No actually I will tag four more people because it was in the prompt so here we go: @the-rat-wins @wideblueskies @deedala @michellemisfit and seriously anyone else who wants to do it!

[resetting37]

Me and my evil ideas

[manybackflips]

(Misinformation) Happy anniversary to BlazBlue’s “meter” mechanic! With this mechanic, attacking your opponent or other key actions would grant you “meter,” allowing you to cancel attacks you normally can’t or other wacky things for a portion of the gauge! Some characters even have two “meters” they can fill up for special actions only capable of being done by them!

[fushitoru]

infect me with your love

pairing ⸺ spiderman!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ you have always existed in gojo satoru’s shadow. he is a physics prodigy, a person that everyone endlessly admires for his intelligence and charisma, and you hate him for taking the spotlight that you deserve to share with him. but it all changes one day at 5:07AM at your starbucks job when gojo barges in, ordering ridiculously sweet drinks and posing existential questions. is there more to gojo that meets the eye, and is it linked to the vigilante swinging around New York City?

warnings ⸺ college au, academic rivals to lovers, SMUT, tooth rotting fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, basically the holy trinity, reader works at Starbucks (BOYCOTT tho), set in NYC, both reader and gojo are physics majors, mentions of SA, attempt at SA on reader but nothing too graphic, some violence, gojo swings reader across NYC so might trigger fear of heights?. SPIDER-MAN KISS SPIDERMAN KISS, injury and mentions of blood, mentions of gun, inappropriate use of webs LOL, fingering, oral, p in v sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied

playlist ⸺ quantum rizzics

a/n thank you for @avaults my POOKIE for beta reading this. this has been a journey and my first longfic and i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did writing it it's my baby:')

if u don’t wanna read the smut just skip the part after they make up, it’s not necessary to the story and is the ending scene. but just to be clear, minors dni.

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

fun fact: starbucks opens at 5am.

of course, that depends on your local hours and where you live, but in the campus starbucks you worked at, your manager fortunately didn’t really care if you showed up to your opening shift a bit late. after all, no professor or undergrad is waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get a fuckin coffee; if they really needed a pick me up, they’d go to get the free alcohol at one of the frats that was still partying. 

matter of fact, your manager didn’t really give a fuck what you did as long as you didn’t get the shop blown up or the matcha spilled (it was expensive). this meant you could leisurely wake up at 4:45am and set up the display muffins and cake pops when you arrived in the shop at 5:20am. really, the manager ought to reduce the hours because all you do is finish your readings for your gen ed history classes on the canvas app on your phone. so, really you get paid for doing your homework on your shifts—not that you’re complaining or anything.

that is, until gojo satoru.

first, let’s get the record straight about who gojo is. gojo is a physics second-year—same as you–who is the bane of your existence. up until a few months ago, you never saw gojo satoru outside of classes (where he was dozing off) unless you happened to show up at a frat party, which was only a few occurrences when you got peer pressured by your friends. clearly, he was a “work hard, party hard” type person because he frequents the frats more than the library while having the grades to make up for it because he’s a prodigy. he’s charismatic and smart as fuck; right out of middle school he was studying manifolds and abstract algebra while the rest of the high school freshmen were learning the quadratic equation and the concept of variables. he probably learned what gravity was at age of two and was doing research in quantum field theory by the time he got into college. 

take the last time you saw him outside of class, at office hours with professor yaga.

the air in professor yaga’s office is thick with the scent of old textbooks, the hum of the overhead lights adding to the familiar quiet. you’ve been waiting all week for this chance, and you’re armed with a question that’s supposed to signal i’ve done my homework. you lean forward, trying to project confidence as you ask, “i read in your last paper that you’re working on optimizing error correction in quantum computing systems. is there a reason you prioritized stabilizer codes over surface codes?”

professor yaga’s brow lifts, impressed, and you can feel the warmth of his approval starting to settle around you. “ah,” he says, sounding pleasantly surprised, “you’ve actually read it. that’s... a complicated question.” he leans back, launching into an explanation, and for a second, you think this might actually be it—the moment he notices you for your dedication, your depth of knowledge.

but then, the door creaks open behind you.

you tense, a sinking feeling pooling in your stomach even before you turn around. of course, it’s gojo satoru, strolling in like he owns the place. his bag is slung over one shoulder, and he’s flashing that easy grin that never seems to falter. he spares you the briefest glance before zeroing in on professor yaga.

professor yaga’s face shifts instantly, a mixture of annoyance and resignation flashing in his eyes as he sighs, “gojo. nice of you to join us.”

“hey, i was just passing by,” gojo says casually, though he’s clearly anything but. he doesn’t pass by anywhere without making an entrance. “thought i’d check in on how everyone’s doing.”

the glint in yaga’s eyes sharpens, and he fixes gojo with a look. “when’s that last problem set coming in, satoru? i’ve had enough late assignments from you for one semester.”

at this, another professor at a nearby desk chuckles, casting an amused glance at gojo. “don’t push him too hard, yaga,” he says as if gojo’s delinquency is something charming, a shared inside joke. “kid’s already got the department’s highest scores without trying.”

oh, for god’s fucking sake. you force yourself not to roll your eyes, your grip tightening on the strap of your bag as you sink back in your chair. of course, all it takes is for him to show up and somehow you’re rendered invisible. just minutes ago, professor yaga was engaging with you, treating you as if you might actually belong in this room with your carefully constructed question. now, he’s utterly distracted, entirely absorbed by whatever pseudo-flattering insults he’s throwing at gojo. and, for the record, that stupid, balding professor is wrong. you have the same fucking scores as gojo, so you’re equals.

you’re not even sure gojo realizes he’s doing it—that he has this magnetic, obnoxious effect on everyone in a room. but that’s exactly what grates on you the most. he pulls all eyes to him, like he’s some cosmic force everyone’s compelled to admire. and you? you’re just… there. not that it’s any different than the usual experiences you’ve had as a woman in stem, always feeling like you have to prove yourself five times over. but somehow, gojo makes it worse.

and he does it all effortlessly, like physics is some sort of playground where he can breeze through research and exams, sprinkling charisma wherever he goes. he’s probably off writing his own theories on manifolds while everyone else is struggling to keep up with quantum mechanics. meanwhile, here you are, clawing for every shred of recognition, only to watch it fizzle as soon as he steps into the room.

he flashes a grin at professor yaga. “i’ll get it in,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “i’m just, you know, prioritizing. some of us have… extracurriculars.” he doesn’t wink, but he might as well.

you resist the urge to scoff, sinking deeper into your seat as the frustration bubbles up, sharp and hot. it’s not like you’re jealous. you’d rather endure anything than admit that. but watching gojo waltz in and immediately siphon off any attention you’d managed to earn feels like a slap. if he could just stop showing up, or better yet, stop pretending to be so casually brilliant, maybe—just maybe—you’d have a chance at something other than this routine invisibility.

you let out a huff, pretending to check the time, imagining you had somewhere better to be. you have brilliant, observant blue eyes following you out the door, but you’re too busy trying to keep yourself together until you reach your dorm, where you ugly cry it out.

which, of course, brings you to mornings like this one, where you actually do have to be somewhere. namely, behind the counter at the campus starbucks, opening up shop while most of the world is still asleep. you catch sight of the green mermaid logo ahead, just visible through the dim haze of a 5:07 a.m. chill.

and right beneath it, there’s a familiar head of silver hair.

your eyes have to double take on the man who seems to be looking a bit slouched, tired and leaning against the light pole while tapping his foot. the muscular yet tall stature and white hair are unmistakable; it’s the same ones you’ve dreamed about throttling. but you’re so confused as to why he’s there that you just decide to wordlessly walk towards the store and open up, ignoring his presence until his voice cuts through the morning silence.

“doesn’t this store open up at 5?” his voice sounds tired and groggy, you notice. 

“uh, yea,” you answer tentatively, shrugging. “but, um, no one comes until 7 so i show up late.”

his eyes narrow and somewhat playfully (well, as playful as he can sound at the ass crack of dawn anyways), he asks, “don’t you know time is of the essence? seems pretty irresponsible to me that you’re not showing up on time.”

you just stare at him for a bit because, after all, this is the guy you’ve been having the murderous equivalent of wet dreams about for the past year talking to you in a friendly, joking, familiar way. needless to say, you’re at a loss of words in your slightly flustered state, so all that comes out is a short “sorry” before you’re walking in, getting ready to put on your apron and setting the oven on to heat up the croissants. 

gojo follows in after you, choosing to sit at the table closest to the counter. he sets the backpack he had on his back down, rummaging through and whipping out his laptop and plugging it in. it’s a heavy old thing, and gojo’s biceps strain as he pulls it out and you almost snort when looking at it in its entirety. a gaming laptop.

 but you don’t do that, because laughing at someone who’s a stranger to you would be mean, no matter how much you hate him, so you resort to setting up the counter and getting some powders out. bending over, you get the newly shipped box of cake pops, deigning to put them out on display until you’re interrupted with a cough.

you turn, looking inquisitively at gojo until he points down to the counter, indicating that he wants to order. you mumble, “just a second!” before you continue hauling the box to put it on the top counter where you can easily unpack it and brush your hands, walking up to gojo and getting the system ready to take his order. 

and your fingers are poised on the buttons until you realize that no order is coming out of his mouth. you blink, and he blinks, keeping a stoic face that nevertheless poorly conceals an amused expression.

“…what can i get you?” 

at that, he pouts. “no good morning? no chirpy hello?”

you just stare at him for a good second. what the fuck?

“what?” gojo frowns. “shouldn’t you do that to every customer?” you realize belatedly you’ve said it out loud in your shock, but shake it off nonetheless. 

the silence lingers after gojo’s teasing comment, making you acutely aware of the odd situation: you’re standing there in your work apron, face-to-face with the man you’ve imagined taking down in your head a thousand times, and yet here he is, tired but playfully trying to chat you up. you should hate this—he’s getting under your skin, but for some reason, you just feel unsettled, disturbed that he’s so human.

you don’t trust your voice to not crack while making eye contact with him, so, instead, you focus on your screen. you settle on a simple, flat, “morning,” without a hint of cheerfulness, staring down at the register like it’s your lifeline.

gojo’s eyebrow quirks at your half-hearted greeting, but he says nothing, opting instead to study you with an amused glint. you can feel his gaze, like a weight on your skin, and it almost makes you shiver. he leans forward a little, propping his elbows on the counter, his posture loose but expectant. his playful energy is barely masking something beneath it, something harder.

gojo's grin is wide, almost boyish, and it makes your stomach churn more than it should.

“see? was that so hard?” he says, leaning forward on his elbows like he’s settling in for a chat. his tone is too friendly for someone who’s never exchanged more than a glance with you in class—someone you’ve been actively avoiding whenever possible.

you scowl, moving to the register to finally punch in his order. “what would you like?”

“hmm...” he taps his chin, dragging out the silence. he’s enjoying this, that much is obvious. “surprise me.”

you blink, fingers still poised over the buttons. “surprise you?”

“yeah,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “you work here. you know what’s good.”

you want to throttle him. really, truly throttle him. there’s no way this is real—no way the gojo satoru is sitting in front of you at 5:07 in the morning, asking you to surprise him with a starbucks order like he’s some quirky regular.

and yet, here you are.

“fine,” you mutter, punching in the order for the sweetest, most ridiculous concoction you can think of. caramel drizzle, extra whipped cream, a pump of every syrup in the back room—you’re not going easy on him. “that’ll be eight dollars.”

he doesn’t blink at the ridiculous price. of course, he doesn’t.

pulling out his phone, he taps it against the card reader and flashes you another grin. “thanks, i’m sure it’ll be great.”

you barely resist the urge to roll your eyes. “uh-huh.”

as you move to make the drink, the silence between you stretches uncomfortably. you’ve spent so much time thinking about gojo, despising him, that now that he’s here, right in front of you, you don’t know how to act. and the worst part? he seems perfectly at ease, completely unfazed by the fact that you’ve spent the better part of a year dreaming of his downfall. he’s back to looking at his stupid heavy ahh gaming laptop, and as you move over to put in copious amounts of caramel pumps, you notice that he’s on cool math games playing fireboy and watergirl and almost snort out loud. he’s locked in on his game, his legs moving up and down anxiously, reminiscent of an ipad kid.

after a few minutes of assembling his monstrosity of a drink, you slide it across the counter. “here,” you say, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice.

gojo raises an eyebrow at the drink, the sheer volume of whipped cream threatening to spill over the lid. “wow,” he says, sounding genuinely impressed. “you really went all out.”

“you said to surprise you.”

“i did,” he admits, grabbing the cup and taking a slow, deliberate sip. his eyes widen slightly at the overly sweet taste, and for a brief moment, you think you’ve won.

but then he smiles again, that same irritatingly carefree smile, and you know you haven’t. 

“so,” gojo begins, leaning back in his chair like he’s settling in for a long conversation. “what’s a genius like you doing working the early shift at starbucks?”

your hands freeze mid-clean, and you glance at him sharply. genius?

you can’t tell if he’s being sincere or mocking you—probably the latter, considering who he is—but the word still lingers in the air between you, unsettling.

you scoff, trying to brush it off. “gotta pay the bills somehow,” you mutter, going back to wiping down the counter. but gojo’s gaze is heavy on you, and you can tell he’s not letting it go.

you glance up at him. “look, i like having time to think in the mornings. it’s quiet. besides, no one’s lining up for coffee before 7, so it’s not like i’m missing anything.”

gojo chuckles softly, but there’s something off about it. “thinking time, huh?” he repeats your words, but there’s a strange edge to them, like he’s mulling them over. in fact, you think you just realize that he’s been acting oddly this entire morning, restlessness evident in his figure. he taps his fingers on the table, his eyes flickering to the window, watching the gray morning light spill into the shop.

“doesn’t it ever feel like…” he trails off, brow furrowing slightly. “i don’t know… like you should be doing something else? like… something more?”

his question hangs in the air, heavy and unspoken, but you get the feeling he’s not talking about you. there’s something in his voice, something that sounds like he’s grappling with his own thoughts, with his own place in the world.

for a moment, you’re tempted to brush him off. to tell him he’s overthinking things, that he’s gojo satoru and he already has everything laid out for him. but something stops you. maybe it’s the way he looks—his usual confidence slightly cracked at the edges, his playful tone masking something else. something deeper.

you shrug, turning back to the counter. “i mean… it doesn’t have to be ‘more’ all the time. sometimes just showing up is enough.”

there’s a pause, and you can feel the weight of your words sinking in. gojo goes quiet, really quiet, and when you glance back at him, his usual smirk is gone. he’s just… staring at you, eyes narrowed slightly like he’s trying to figure you out.

“just… showing up, huh?” he repeats softly, almost like he’s testing the words. his fingers stop tapping, and he leans back in his chair, his gaze unfocused, like he’s somewhere else entirely. somewhere in his own head.

you don’t say anything else. you’ve said your piece, and somehow, you know it hit deeper than either of you expected. there’s a strange silence between you now, not uncomfortable, but heavy with understanding.

gojo stands up after a long pause, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. he looks at you, his usual grin slipping back into place, but it’s softer now. less cocky. more real.

“maybe you’re right,” he says, and this time there’s no teasing in his voice. “sometimes it’s enough just to show up.”

and with that, he gives you a small nod, turning and heading out into the cold morning. the door swings shut behind him, and for a second, you just stand there, staring after him.

something’s shifted. you don’t know what it is, but it feels like the start of something. something bigger than just a rivalry.

you shake your head, turning back to the counter. it’s too early for this shit.

…

“you know, i didn’t get your name.”

gojo’s voice cuts through the low hum of the espresso machine as he leans against the counter, that same insufferable grin plastered across his face. he’s here again, of course, only this time it’s during your closing shift. the place is quiet, almost deserted except for the occasional customer who swings by for a quick coffee before heading back out into the cold.

you look up from the equipment you were cleaning, already annoyed. “i’m pretty sure we’ve shared at least one class every semester.”

you weren’t trying to hide the pettiness. gojo, for all his academic genius, clearly couldn’t be bothered to remember you—a recurring face in his orbit. it’s not like you were expecting him to remember you, especially among the sea of faces in lecture halls, but something about the way he strolled in, acting like this was just some cute, quirky meet-cute, got under your skin.

gojo quirks an eyebrow in confusion, his gaze drifting up toward the ceiling as if searching the recesses of his mind for your name—only to come up empty. “are you a grad student?”

you flash him an exasperated look. “just for that, i’m not telling you.”

grabbing a towel to wipe your hands, you step out from behind the barista counter, heading towards the trash can just behind him to restock the straws. as you make your way to the supply room, you can feel his eyes following your every move. to your surprise, gojo starts walking toward you, his presence looming as you dump the straws into the container.

it isn’t until you turn around that you realize he’s standing right next to you, bent comically at the waist and squinting at something on your chest. heat creeps up your neck and into your cheeks as you realize his proximity and move to take a step back. 

he wasn’t ogling you (thank god), but instead, squinting at the nametag pinned to your apron.

"ah," he says, straightening up with a triumphant grin. “there it is. y/n, huh?” the way his mouth rolls over your name slowly makes you feel a bit weird, because after all, this is the guy you’ve shit talked about in your diary finally acknowledging you existed, but before you can reflect on the feeling, you bristle again in annoyance. 

“really? you had to get that close just to read my name?”

gojo doesn’t seem fazed by your annoyance, in fact, it only seems to amuse him further. “hey, i was just trying to be thorough. gotta make sure i get it right, you know?” his grin widens, and you swear he’s enjoying this way too much.

“thorough. sure.” you turn away, trying to busy yourself with the straws again, but the heat still lingers on your face. his proximity had been… unexpected. and a little too close for comfort.

when you’re done with the straws, you steel the courage to turn your body so you’re facing him, making an indication with your hands for him to move out of your way. instead of him giving you space to leave the cramped corner, he leans against the counter now like he practically owns the place. in doing so, he effectively pins you against the corner of the coffee shop, leaving you no option but to fiddle with the straws while pointedly avoiding his gaze, but not before you see the pout on his face. “you’re not going to ask me for my name?”

“i know it. it’s gojo.” you immediately curse yourself for letting your lips loose.

fuck. he squints his eyes in what you perceive as suspicion. “how do you know my name?”

“i saw it on your credit card information.” you couldn’t exactly tell him how you’ve stalked him (as well as how inefficient you found a function in his 6th grade robotics code), so that would be a plausible enough reason. 

but gojo, of course, doesn’t let up. “so, y/n,” he starts. “you going to the party next week? you know, for halloweekend?”

ah, halloweekend. the ultimate weekend for getting excuses to dress slutilly, excessively drink, and get laid. at your college, it was an even bigger deal, with people partying for all three days of the week’s end as well as the weekend before and after halloween. you shook your head. “i don’t think so.” that phys 321 assignment was not going to finish itself, nor were parties really your scene.

“what?” he immediately crosses his arms across his chest, frowning and leaning closer to you to squint at you. “why?”

you sigh inwardly, awkward at the prospect of him bugging you further about your life. “i’m bu—”

you’re interrupted by the sound of the door opening and instinctively move to get behind the counter to take the new customer’s order; at first, you thank the heavens that you got a distraction from gojo, that you’re not alone anymore, but seeing who the customer was, the hope extinguishes like a candle face with wind.

you both see a man swagger in, the same guy you’ve noticed hanging around far too often lately. his eyes immediately lock onto you, and a slow, sleazy grin spreads across his face.

“hey, look who’s still here,” the man says, sauntering over to the counter like he owns the place. “my favorite barista.”

you tense, forcing a smile. “what can i get you?”

he doesn’t answer right away, his gaze sliding down your body in a way that makes your skin crawl. “i was thinking…” he drawls, leaning in closer than necessary, “you and i should hang out. you’re always here, and i’m always here, so it’s like fate or something, right?”

your stomach churns, and you take a small step back, maintaining your composure. “i’m good, thanks.”

but he doesn’t let up, leaning further across the counter. “come on, don’t be like that. just one drink. you deserve it after a long day.”

“i really can’t—”

“don’t be shy,” he interrupts, a grin spreading wider. “i’m a nice guy, i promise.”

before you can think of another polite rejection, gojo steps forward, his body language shifting entirely. the playful air around him evaporates, replaced by something colder, more dangerous. he positions himself squarely between you and the guy, effectively cutting off the man’s view of you.

“she said no,” gojo says, his voice firm, low. “so why don’t you fuck off?”

the sleazy guy blinks, clearly not expecting the sudden shift. his smile fades, and he glares at gojo, sizing him up like he’s considering pushing back. but one glance at gojo’s unwavering stare, and the guy decides it’s not worth it. with a muttered curse, he turns and leaves, the door swinging shut behind him.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. the guy’s been bothering you routinely; part of you thinks that he’s still not going to leave you alone, but the rest of you visibly relaxes, the weight of this guy’s harassment lifting off your shoulders under gojo’s protection.

gojo turns back to you, the usual teasing smirk creeping back onto his face, though his eyes are still sharp. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you manage, though your voice is quieter than you’d like. “thanks for that.”

“don’t mention it.” he shrugs it off like it was nothing, but there’s something different in the way he’s looking at you now—something protective. “i know you’re perfectly capable of handling yourself, but i figured i’d speed things up a bit.”

you roll your eyes, trying to shake off the tension. “you’re such a hero, gojo.”

“always,” he replies with a wink. and just like that, the moment’s lightened again, the balance between you restored, though there’s a subtle shift in the air. something unspoken between the two of you—an understanding, maybe.

you don’t acknowledge it out loud, but as you go back to restocking, you find yourself glancing at him more than before. and for the first time in… well, ever, you don’t completely mind his presence.

…

fast forward a few hours, and after a bit of conversation, gojo finally leaves the fine institution that is your campus starbucks. right now, you’re alone and finishing cleaning up. you lock up, the starbucks finally closed, finishing your last task for the night. it’s quiet—too quiet, actually, with the usual streetlights casting strange shadows across the empty sidewalk. the air feels heavy, like something unseen is lingering just out of reach, watching from the dark. you shake it off, telling yourself you’re just tired and letting your nerves get to you.

as you start your walk back to your dorm, the feeling only grows. the street’s nearly empty, and with each step, the silence presses in closer. it’s fine, you tell yourself, picking up your pace. but then you hear it: the echo of footsteps, faint but unmistakable. heart pounding, you speed up, every instinct telling you to just get back. almost there. you just have to cross the alley—

“hey there,” a voice drawls, and your stomach sinks. a hand moves to grab at your shoulder, making you turn quickly. what meets your vision is the same guy from earlier, his grin widening in a way that makes your skin crawl.

you try to move out of his grip, but he grabs you harder, cutting off any escape. “aw, don’t be like that. i just wanted some company.”

your throat’s dry, but you manage, “i said no.”

he doesn’t even pretend to listen, his gaze trailing over you with that same leering interest. “no need to be so uptight. i could make this fun for you.”

your back hits the wall of the alley. trapped. he leans in, his breath warm and sour against your face, one hand reaching out as he says something sleazy that you can barely hear over the pounding in your ears—

and then a voice cuts in from above, all easy humor. “y’know, i always thought this city’s trash problem was bad, but this is something else.”

your heart leaps in your chest at the small flicker of hope, that someone has the balls to try to rescue you. but as you—and this creep—turn, you find no evidence of another party present, only his mysterious presence. 

“who’s there?” the guy snarls, his grip tightening so much that you wince. “why don’t you get lost if you know what’s good for you—”

“dude, don’t you have any rizz?” the mysterious boy retorts.the stranger has a youthful voice, someone of your age.  “the way you have to resort to sexual harassment is just sad. you guys are always sooo predictable, you’re so gonna tell me to scram or something.”

the man scowls, hand leaving your arm in an effort to search for the stranger in the dark. “why don’t you mind your own business, punk—”

and he’s interrupted, because a shiny, silver something flings out in the darkness and lands on his face, sending his arms in a frenzy to uncover what it is. the man rips the sticky, silver webbing off his face with a growl, looking around wildly, his expression shifting from confusion to anger. his eyes dart through the dark alley, searching for the source of that cocky voice, but there’s nothing—just shadows and the faint flicker of a streetlamp somewhere down the block.

“who the hell are you?” he snaps, twisting his neck as if he could scare whoever’s hiding out there into the open. “show yourself, you bastard!”

a chuckle echoes from the darkness, bouncing off the brick walls. “wow, real tough guy, huh? but you should work on those anger issues. they’re, uh…a bit unbecoming.”

the man spins around, and another burst of webbing flies out from somewhere unseen, sticking to his shoulder this time. he yanks it off with a frustrated grunt, his head whipping from side to side as he tries to locate the stranger.

“you think this is funny?” he spits, voice raised in a mix of fear and fury.

“depends. do you?” the voice is closer now, almost like the stranger is right above you, yet no one’s there. “or is this just a big overreaction? all i did was suggest you rethink your approach. go to therapy or sum’.”

the man snarls, fists clenched, starting to look downright unhinged. “get down here and say that to my face, punk!”

“as you wish.”

with a soft thump, a figure drops from above, landing directly in front of the guy in a low crouch. in the dim light, all you see at first are the blue and black accents on the otherwise white suit, his head tilting up, illuminated just enough that his white, wide eyes glow with a certain playful menace. and then, your eyes widen as you gasp to yourself. 

you’ve seen him before.

okay, pause.

you’re a busy college student, one who stays entrenched in the bubble of upcoming exams, assignments, and problem sets that you don’t check the news often. in the off chance you do turn from your usual consumption of social media during your breaks to the news, you only have time to read the big headlines.

so you did read somewhere that in your university’s city of new york city, there was a masked menan—vigilante that had beat up a few guys near a shawarma joint or prevented some shootings at a nightclub. new york city was full of incompetent cops that were on the lookout for him (a/n acabbbbbb) since this guy was a vigilante, some kind of superhero slinging around on webs. some name—spiderman.

but before you could read more into the article, your soul almost left your body when you got a canvas notification saying your midterm was graded, so that was the end of that.

alright, pause over. back to now.

“hi!” spiderman chirps, giving him a friendly wave before ducking just as the man throws a punch. the swing goes wide, and spiderman straightens up with a disappointed sigh. “see, this is why i’m the one with the web powers. you’d hurt yourself with these moves.”

without warning, the man charges again, swinging in rapid succession, but each one misses as spiderman easily sidesteps, practically dancing around him. “oof, dude, how did you make it this far in life with reflexes like that?” he ducks another blow, slipping behind the guy to give him a light tap on the shoulder as he passes.

the man stumbles, eyes flashing with frustration, and lets out a roar, reaching down to pick up a loose brick from the alley floor. he raises it above his head, face twisted in a snarl.

“oh, so we’re improvising now?” spiderman quips, and before the man can bring the brick down, a strand of webbing shoots out, sticking to the brick and yanking it from his grasp. it flies off somewhere into the alley, landing with a dull clatter.

the guy stumbles forward, off balance, and spiderman takes the opportunity to web his feet to the ground, immobilizing him in place. the man struggles, pulling his legs, but he’s stuck fast.

“ever heard of boundaries?” spiderman asks, tilting his head with mock innocence. “or, like, self-restraint? you should look into it.”

the man glares, seething, still struggling against the webs. “you think you’re some kinda hero?” he sneers.

spiderman shrugs, glancing over at you, catching your gaze in a way that makes you feel both strangely comforted and seen. “nah, hero’s a big word. i’m just your friendly neighborhood guy with slightly above-average reflexes.”

with a frustrated yell, the man finally wrenches one arm free and makes a desperate lunge, his fist connecting with spiderman’s side. spiderman lets out a small grunt but only wobbles slightly before grinning. “okay, buddy, playtime’s over.”

before the man can even react, spiderman sends out another web, this time at his wrist, effectively pinning him to the alley wall. he struggles, face twisted in anger, but spiderman just raises a gloved hand to his lips as if hushing a child. then, in the lull that follows, you remember the thick quantum mechanics textbook in your bag. without thinking, you yank it out and, in a burst of adrenaline, swing it at the man’s head. the book lands with a solid thud, and he slumps, finally, into silence.

spiderman looks at the unconscious man, then at the textbook in your hand. he lets out a low whistle. “you know, i’ve always thought textbooks were a weapon of choice, but that’s next-level dedication.” that’s when you realize just how tall he is compared to you, and you can’t help your excitement when you realize that he’s here in the flesh.

“nice hit, by the wa—”

“it’s you!” you exclaim. 

“what?” he sputters, white eyes widening almost comically. “me? oh,” then he straightens up, “yea, yea. just your friendly neighborhood spiderman. rescuing pretty girls from creeps, kinda my thing. ” he shrugs.

you continue, excitedly, “right, you’re the one on the news—” you move your hand to point at him but quickly wince, the pain of the man’s grip catching up to you. 

he doesn’t miss the movement, eyes squinting at you. “hey, we’ll have to get you home. do you trust me?”

you look at him, clutching your arm in pain, and really take a moment to check him out. he’s saved you, he’s probably six feet tall, and his ass looks fantastic in his suit. at this point, you’re looking at him with heart eyes. but you can’t exactly tell him you want him to propose, so all you utter out is a “y-yeah. my dorm’s randall.”

he doesn't waste any time. with a quick nod, he hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you close as he aims a webline up toward the buildings. “hold on tight, randall’s just a swing away,” he murmurs, his voice light but steady. his hand settles on your hip, and you can't stop the way your stomach flips at the contact.

before you can even process what’s happening, he launches the two of you into the air, the city blurring beneath your feet as you cling to him, fingers gripping the fabric of his suit for dear life. his arm stays solid around you, his grip somehow both gentle and strong. he lands lightly on the roof of your dorm, setting you down carefully like you’re something fragile. and he steps back, dusting his hands off in the most nonchalant way possible, like he didn’t just take you on the most exhilarating ride of your life.

“this is your stop,” he says, that signature, almost cocky smile playing in his voice.

“uh… yeah. thanks. for the rescue,” you manage, your voice a little shakier than you’d like. you don’t know if “thank you” is enough—it doesn’t even come close to covering what you feel.

but he just shrugs, taking a step back. “all in a day’s work,” he says. “or night’s work, i guess.” he pauses, giving you a quick once-over. “get some sleep, yeah?”

and just like that, he gives you a small, almost playful salute and vanishes, swinging off into the night as easily as he’d appeared, leaving you standing on the rooftop with your heart still racing.

back in your dorm room, you drop onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling as tonight’s events replay in your head: the alley, his voice cutting through the dark, that cocky smirk, the way he felt holding onto you as you soared over the city lights. a tiny part of you wonders if you imagined the whole thing—if maybe you’re just the victim of some wild, sleep-deprived hallucination.

but no, your arm still aches from where the creep grabbed you, and you can still feel the ghost of his hand on your waist, steady and reassuring. you bite your lip, a smile creeping onto your face despite yourself.

just before sleep finally claims you, you let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. “the city’s vigilante, huh?” you murmur, as if he’s somehow still listening.

the thought is wild, a bit surreal—and strangely comforting.

…

“one caffe americano!” you call out, reading the label on the cup before handing it over with a small nod. the customer takes it with a quick thanks, and you return to the counter, barely holding back a yawn. the events of last night flicker through your mind—a web-slinging hero, an alley, the lingering ache in your arm—and you shake it off. there’s no room for distractions. life as a college student means the grind never stops, especially on a morning shift right before class.

when your coworker finally arrives, you let out a quiet sigh of relief, grab your bag, and step out into the brisk morning air. the chill helps wake you up as you make your way across campus, hoping to catch up with your friends before the lecture starts. just outside the building, you spot utahime, sitting on a bench, waiting with her usual tired smile.

“hey, finally off the clock?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah, barely,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “i’m still running on fumes from last night. you guys save me a seat?”

“of course. nanami’s already inside,” she says, gesturing toward the building.

you sigh. “you won’t believe the things that happened last night.”

she gives you a look, in the traditional utahime protective-mother-hen type way. “what happened?”

you give her the rundown of what happened, the guy (who she bristles at, gives you a slap at your hand to tell you that you should’ve told her earlier, kento would’ve been able to beat his ass if she hadn’t gotten to it first) and how spiderman saved you. “i would give him what he’s missing,” you sigh, dreamily. 

utahime looks at you in a judgmental way. “and that’s all you got from this? for fucks sake, he’s a vigilante, you don’t know if he’s started to tail you or not. pooks, he could literally be dangerous. try to convince your boss to let someone else get your night shift.” as soon as you open your mouth to protest, she cuts you off immediately. “and no, i don’t give a fuck about your people pleaser tendenci—”

“we’ll revisit this conversation later.” you give her a sweet smile as you start to speed walk, door of the lecture hall of the 9am section of phys401: intro to quantum algorithms, falling in with the usual stream of students after you hear an irritated “yea, cause i’m gonna kill you otherwise.” the familiar chatter and echo of footsteps make the day feel almost normal, grounding you as you weave through the hall.

inside, you quickly spot kento’s shining, disney prince-like blonde hair, who has saved seats for the three of you near the middle of the hall, away from the ugly, smelly grad students who always crowd the front. he gives you a quick nod as you settle down beside him, flipping open your notebook. the reliable calm on his face helps ease the lingering jitters you hadn’t realized you were carrying.

“long night?” he asks, glancing at the dark circles under your eyes.

“you could say that,” you mumble, not quite ready to get into details. instead, you wave it off. “just work assignments, and getting jumped, the usual.”

nanami breaks into a series of shocked coughs, and you hurry to pat his back as he undeniably burns his tongue on the coffee he was taking a sip of. “what?”

his rather loud exclamation sets off stares from people sitting closer to you both, so you give utahime, who lets out a quiet groan as she’s settling into her seat beside you, a knowing look. “it’s a long story, i’ll tell it to you later.”

he reluctantly settles in after that, not because he has a choice but because yaga is starting to address the class by asking about the weekend and getting his usual blank stares in return until a voice you recognize as suguru geto’s is saying something to undeniably piss him off, but you don’t register quite what it is exactly because the door opens and any attention on geto is directed to the boy with white hair and blue eyes tiredly walking into class. 

he’s about ten minutes late to the lecture, which is already weird because he’s usually about 27 seconds late, not that you keep count. but also, normally gojo is the picture of confidence and cockyness, making some of the female grad students whisper things about him that you don’t think they should be for the five year gap between them and gojo. 

but today, he looks different—messy, unkempt, with shadows under his eyes and a weird angle to his torso, the way he walks, and the way his opposite hand is subconsciously hovering around his side.

your brows knit together as he heads to an empty seat rows behind you next to geto, ignoring the stares of half the room. it’s so out of character for him that you can’t help but wonder what’s going on. you shoot utahime a knowing look, and she stifles a laugh, barely managing to keep a straight face as she watches gojo slink to his seat. nanami’s usually impassive face exchanges a look with you as well before he turns his attention back to professor yaga’s opening remarks. gojo slides into the row behind you without a word, avoiding everyone’s gaze—or so you think, until you feel it.

as you attempt to listen to professor yaga, you can’t shake the sensation of eyes boring into the back of your head. you resist the urge to turn, telling yourself it’s probably nothing… except the feeling lingers, so strong that your pulse ticks up a notch.

“okay, now that we’re all here,” yaga says in a dry tone, barely able to hide his irritation as he glances pointedly in gojo’s direction, “let’s begin with today’s lecture on grover’s.”

professor yaga taps the board, and the projector switches to a set of slides titled quantum speed-up and the grover search algorithm. he launches into his explanation, voice clipped. “grover’s algorithm provides a quadratic speed-up for unstructured search problems, a notable advantage in quantum computing. but can anyone tell me why this isn’t considered an exponential improvement?”

you raise your hand, as does nanami. a subtle shift of movement in your peripheral vision draws your eye to gojo, who’s leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. yaga’s attention lands on nanami first, and he gives a succinct answer about how grover’s algorithm yields only a quadratic speed-up in terms of computational complexity. as he answers, you swear you catch gojo watching you, again, through the corner of your eye.

determined not to let him get under your skin, you lean over to whisper to nanami. “what’s with him today?”

nanami, still watching yaga, raises a brow. “maybe he finally realized that he can’t get by without skipping class today.”

utahime snickers quietly. “doubtful. more like he thinks it’s funny to waltz in whenever he likes and still ace every test.”

“exactly.” you sigh, drumming your pen against your notebook. gojo’s rare absences don’t even seem to faze most professors. and despite his unpredictable attendance, he’s always managed to stay miles ahead. today, though, something’s… different about him. like he’s made a life changing decision in the past 48 hours.

“moving on,” yaga says, pointing to the board where the next slide materializes. “the heart of grover’s algorithm lies in its use of an amplitude amplification technique, where we iterate a search oracle along with an inversion process. pay attention—this concept of iterative improvement will become key when we start covering variational quantum algorithms.”

as yaga delves deeper into amplitude amplification, you manage to focus, jotting down notes on the necessary steps in grover’s search. yet each time you settle into the lecture, you feel gojo’s gaze pricking at you. the first time you turn around, there’s nothing there—just him slouched, seemingly absorbed in whatever he’s staring at on the ceiling. but then, you sense it again and, on your second glance, you catch his blue eyes meeting yours, and he quickly looks away.

what’s his problem? you give him a questioning look, but he’s adamantly not looking at you, trying to look nonchalant as he’s pulling out his laptop. he might look like a student taking latexing notes of what yaga’s yapping about, but the way he’s using his mouse more than he is his keyboard tells you that he’s probably on papa’s freezeria instead.

you decide that you’re going to waste your time wondering how gojo’s brain functioned, so you instead focus back on the lecture. after all, you didn’t understand any of the lecture notes you took notes on before and what it said about the diffuser in the circuit. 

“now,” yaga’s voice sharpens, pulling you back into the room, “these iterations act as amplitude amplification steps, so pay close attention—especially those of you who have a habit of being late.” his eyes slide back to gojo, who remains oblivious, leaning back with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as the sound of his name brings him back to the lecture.

gojo doesn’t even look phased. instead, he raises a hand casually, like he’s about to ask a simple question. you can feel the anticipation ripple through the room—half the students are waiting to see if he’ll fumble, and the other half already know better.

“professor yaga,” he drawls, “don’t you think amplitude amplification is a bit of an oversimplification? the way it’s typically presented, you’d think grover’s algorithm was just… guessing with style.” he flashes an infuriatingly smug smile, drawing out the pause before continuing. “but we both know it’s more about quantum phase inversion, right? the oracle reflects about the mean state, iterating with a precision that isn’t just luck. or maybe that’s all too technical?” he leans back, feigning innocence.

the smugness in his tone makes something flare up in you, and before you can stop yourself, your hand shoots up.

“actually, gojo,” you interject, your voice louder than you intended, “calling it “guessing with style” is a very gross oversimplification. grover’s algorithm isn’t about intuition or luck. it’s about optimization. it’s not just about spotlighting a target like a rando guess, it’s more like rotating the probability in a controlled manner—with iterations—to amplify the correct solution. not just some quantum trick or guess.” you cross your arms, leaning back in your chair as you stare him down. “it’s not even that bad, compared to what we have classically.”

as soon as you spoke, it seems that the fight and mischievous look in gojo’s eyes fades, replacing it with something that shockingly looks like him being flustered as he averts your gaze, looks to the ceiling, and murmurs something like “yea, that’s basically most of quantum computing, desperately trying to prove we’re not just wasting our time” but yaga interrupts him, clearly a bit annoyed at the two know-it-alls that you and gojo were acting like. 

“now,” yaga says, shifting back to the lecture as if nothing happened (probably because he wasn’t paid enough to deal with this shit), “these iterations act as amplitude amplification steps, so pay close attention—especially those of you who have a habit of missing lectures.”

you’re just left confused as to why the conversation didn’t escalate like the typical academic rivals in movies, because you’ve definitely seen gojo bully some people who didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about instead of just blushing like some schoolgirl. regardless, you can’t help but notice the thrill that you felt, having finally argued with him, having been seen as someone worth arguing. you try to temper it as yaga continues onto the rest of the lecture.

…

“i can’t believe you’re making me go.” you tug at the hem of your white corset, paired with a matching skirt, still incredulous at how utahime managed to talk you into attending one of the infamous halloween frat parties. the night air is crisp against your exposed shoulders, and despite your complaints, you shiver more at the thought of wasting the next few hours among sweaty strangers than the actual cold.

utahime, walking beside you in a devil-red version of your outfit—complete with horns perched precariously on her head—looks far too satisfied with herself. she adjusts the horns with one hand, giving you a sidelong glance that practically drips with smugness.

“stop pouting,” she chides. “i’m not going to let you waste another night holed up in your room, buried in manhwa or quantum physics. i’m pretty sure there are cobwebs growing in your—”

“utahime,” you hiss, cutting her off with a mortified glance around.

“pussy,” she finishes, completely unbothered. “i’m going to find you a guy to hook up with. i’m not saying you have to go all the way, but flirting? kissing? maybe something more? very healthy. highly encouraged.”

your mouth falls open in protest, but before you can get a word in, she fixes you with a sharp glare, her dark eyes flashing with all the authority of a disappointed parent. “don’t even think about arguing with me. i swear, if you don’t at least try to enjoy this, i’ll make it my personal mission to find someone for you.”

“i can’t believe this,” you mutter, crossing your arms. “you’re supposed to be my friend, not my pimp.”

“oh, i’m your friend. that’s why i’m doing this. you’ll thank me when you’re sixty and not crying about how boring your college life was.”

“i’m not boring,” you counter. “i’m selective.”

“sure,” utahime drawls, clearly unconvinced. “and whatever weird sexual tension you’ve got going on with gojo doesn’t count.”

you scoff, stopping in your tracks to stare at her. “what tension? we’ve literally talked once this week. and that was the first time we had a conversation.”

she doesn’t respond, already scanning the scene ahead. the street of frat houses looms just ahead, glowing with gaudy orange lights strung up across balconies. the bass from the nearest party reverberates through the pavement underfoot. it’s already crowded, hordes of people shuffling in and out, laughing, shouting, and showcasing their half-baked halloween costumes.

you follow utahime’s gaze to the nearest house, packed with enough people to make the windows fog up. just the thought of squeezing into that humidity makes your stomach churn.

“looks crowded,” you mumble. “maybe we should—”

before you can suggest retreating, utahime grabs your wrist and practically drags you toward the house. “nope. you’re coming in. no backing out now.”

the moment you step inside, the smell hits you. sweat, stale beer, and an undercurrent of what you can only describe as frat-house musk. your nose wrinkles, and you instinctively recoil, pulling your arm free from utahime’s grasp.

“god, it smells like a gym locker in here,” you say, covering your nose.

utahime doesn’t seem fazed. she’s already scanning the room, her eyes landing on a beer pong table set up in the corner, surrounded by cheering students. “this is perfect!” she says, beaming.

“for what? contracting a fungal infection?” you mutter.

but she’s no longer listening, her focus shifting as a tall, broad-shouldered guy in a makeshift cowboy hat approaches her and then stops in front of both of you, his stare fully enthralled by utahime. “hey,” he says, a bit suavely, in the way that makes you inwardly roll your eyes because you know she’s going to eat it up. she likes it when they’re a little ugly, and this guy fits the bill. 

“hey,” and she giggles, making you have to physically fight the urge to puke, “what’s up?”

 they exchange a few words, and before you know it, she’s smiling in that way that tells you she’s found her entertainment for the night.

“go ahead,” you say dryly, waving her off. “i’ll just fend for myself.”

utahime starts to protest, but you’re already beelining for the kitchen, trying to get a drink that’s not too crazy to survive the night. it’s surprisingly less chaotic in the kitchen, though the counters are cluttered with half-empty bottles, red solo cups, and some questionable punch that looks radioactive. you scan the room, your eyes landing on a cupboard that might hold something simple—like water. a series of ding! ding! ding!’s go off in your mind as you find the pack of plastic water bottles. 

standing on your toes, you reach for the handle, but it’s just out of your grasp. you huff in frustration, shifting to get better leverage when a hand way bigger than yours suddenly appears above yours, effortlessly grabbing the item you were reaching for.

“let me get that for you.”

you turn to thank the person, the words dying on your lips when you see who it is.

gojo.

he’s standing impossibly close, his signature smirk firmly in place, but there’s something almost casual in the way he looks at you, as if this is the most normal interaction in the world. you swear you’re so close that you can see like the two open pores on his otherwise flawless skin, as his eyes inevitably drag themselves downwards to scan your outfit for the night—a shitty angel without wings and halo (you couldn’t be paid two shits to put in the effort; both of the top and skirt were utahime’s, anyways.) then, his eyes meet yours again, a bit of playfulness in them. 

“well, well,” he drawls, handing you the water bottle. “never thought i’d see you here.”

you take the bottle, trying to ignore the brush of his fingers against yours. “didn’t have much of a choice. utahime dragged me.”

his grin widens. “classic. let me guess—she’s off trying to find her soulmate at the beer pong table?”

“something like that,” you mumble, not wanting to give him the entire story. twisting the cap off the bottle,  you take a sip, hoping he’ll just leave you alone, but instead, he leans against the counter, looking entirely too comfortable.

“so,” he says, tilting his head, “i heard through the grapevine that you had a run-in with that spider-man guy this week.”

that makes you pause mid-gulp of water, instead coughing a bit as you try to swallow it down without basically drowning in kirkland signature natural spring water. you’ve only told like, three people outside of kento and iori, so you’re confused why he knows this information, but you continue on regardless. the memory of spider-man swinging in to save you flashes through your mind, and you can’t help but smile softly to yourself. “it was amazing. he’s—he’s incredible, honestly. the way he just swooped in and handled everything? so fast, so precise. he’s like a real-life superhero.”

you’re basically gushing to him, and you realize that a bit too late as you look at his face to gauge his reaction. he’s looking at you with a newfound interest, albeit a bit too conflicted to fully tease you about it when he says, “sounds like you’re smitten.”

“maybe i am,” you admit, laughing. “i mean, who wouldn’t be? he’s brave, he’s kind, and he doesn’t even stick around for the credit. it’s like he’s this selfless, untouchable figure.” you also kind of want to give him a sloppy toppy for saving you like that, but you spare gojo the details. 

“untouchable, huh?” gojo echoes, his tone turning a bit wry and…jealous? “sounds like someone’s got a crush.”

you roll your eyes, but it’s half-hearted, and you think gojo can tell with the way you’re heating up and bashfully looking at the ground. “don’t be ridiculous.”

“i’m just saying,” he continues, leaning closer, “if that’s your type, you might want to raise your standards. superheroes are overrated.”

you raise an eyebrow. “and what, you’re not?”

he grins, that infuriatingly charming grin that makes you want to simultaneously punch him and laugh. “i’m better. i’m real.” he then puts his hands on the counter behind you, caging you between them until your knees are lightly brushing, and suddenly his face is so close that small little breaths from his nose are fanning across your face. “i can prove that to you.”

and you hate your body for being so…reactive and enthusiastic to his smooth-talking, face flushing. despite that, you try to put on an air of nonchalance. “god, you’re insufferable.”

“really?” he teases. his hand leaves the marble counter to hover at your hip, his hand subconsciously tracing your curves an inch above your skin. the motion, firm but tentative as if he’s waiting for you to give him the green light, makes you shiver as you subconsciously move your hips to finally have the skin-to-skin contact. and your skin sings in happiness as he draws circles into the area right below your skirt, even momentarily dipping just below, to which you realize that he’s treading very close to your panties, since your skirt’s really short.

"yea," you basically sigh, hating yourself for how breathy your voice sounds. 

it seems to have an effect on gojo because his eyes darken as he murmurs, "wastin' your time on that spiderman guy."

maybe it's the fact that it's late (you've been getting sub four hours of sleep this past week) or the lights in this humid frat bring a heady air, but all academic-rivalry-overshadowed-woman-in-stem history between you and gojo disappears in your brain as you rake your eyes up and down his torso and then look at him through your lashes. "who should i spend my time on instead?"

he gives you a little smile as he stares down at you, eyes raking over your face, catching at your lips and then going back up again to meet yours. “i don’t know, someone who’s as smart as you,” he murmurs.

“yea?” you laugh out breathlessly. your faces are so close that in normal circumstances, you would worry about how you both looked so close together, one hand on your thigh and the other splayed on your waist. “and how would you know how smart i am?”

satoru starts, lips coming closer and closer. “because i—”

but he’s interrupted, because you both hear a “satoru” and pull apart, breathing heavily as you both turn to look at the offender standing in the entrance of the kitchen: suguru geto, gojo’s best friend, looking more tired than anything as his eyes catch on you, then going to gojo with a pointed look. it’s not hard to figure out what was going on based on how disheveled you both look, your skirt crooked and his shirt crumbled, and your cheeks heat. before you can say anything, however, suguru sighs and says to gojo, “there’s a burglary happening nearby.” then, he turns but not before giving you a nod. “make sure to stay safe.”

he promptly leaves, leaving you confused standing there. was this such an emergency worth noting that he interrupted his best friend?

you try to seek the answer in gojo’s face, but he has this conflicted, annoyed countenance and you suddenly feel kinda of insecure because he’s raking his hand through his hair, staring painfully at the ceiling then at you. at the same time you utter out a “uh–” he says “i have to go.”

“oh.” you blink. a why brews on top of your tongue, but you temper it, reminding yourself that you’re not close to gojo like that. needless to say, you feel a little embarrassed as you watch him jog out of the kitchen with a little wave to you. you want to overanalyze gojo’s last look to you, the one that looked a bit like disappointment and yearning, but you shake it off, staring at the 16.9 oz plastic water bottle in your hand that you forgot about.

taking a sip, you cringe as you become more aware of your surroundings and the state you’re left in because of gojo. that your panties are a bit more sticky—you reach under your skirt to adjust them so they don’t stick to your crotch so much—and you’re hot all over. 

then reality comes crashing back. what the hell did you and gojo just do right now?

you groan out loud, banging your head against the fridge, but as you reel back, in your peripheral you see  someone there. your head shoots to see the guy who’s now looking at you with a weird expression as he undeniably waits for whatever freaking out you were doing to gain access to the fridge. 

“sorry,” you blurt out, and gather yourself to beeline for the exit. god, you needed to find utahime.

…

the soft hum of a tv in the corner of satoru’s apartment provided the only sound, save for the faint rustle of suguru flipping through a textbook. the remnants of takeout—boxes of half-eaten pad thai and a pile of discarded chopsticks—littered the coffee table between them. satoru leaned back on the couch, legs stretched out, staring at the ceiling like it held answers he hadn’t thought to ask yet. he held a small foam ball, tossing it up and catching it over and over. his mind, however, wasn’t focused on the ball but on you.

it was starting to feel like an obsession. he’d always been able to compartmentalize things—his studies, his friends, his other responsibilities. but you? you’d broken through the usual barriers in his head, wedging yourself firmly into every free thought he had.

“do you think she likes me?” he asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.

suguru glanced up from his book, his expression unreadable. “who, starbucks girl?”

satoru scoffed. “she’s not starbucks girl. she’s…” he trailed off, tapping his fingers against his knee. your name lingered on his tongue, oddly weighty in a way that felt almost unfamiliar.

suguru smirked. “oh, she’s got a name now? progress.”

“shut up.”

but he couldn’t shut his mind off, not when you kept taking up space in it. it wasn’t just that he’d noticed you now—really noticed you, for the first time. it was more than that.

satoru had always known who you were. you weren’t exactly easy to miss. in a program full of ugly guys who didn’t shower and loud personalities, you had carved out your niche by being the cold, unreachable one. the one who didn’t bother with group projects unless she had to, who barely engaged in conversations beyond what was strictly necessary. other guys in the program talked about you, of course. they always did.

“frigid,” they called you. “too serious. probably thinks she’s better than us.”

they weren’t entirely wrong. you were better than most of them, but not for the reasons they assumed. satoru had read your work—papers that brimmed with insights that most of their half-baked theories could only dream of. he could tell you put in the effort in your classes and research, while all the guys left shit-talking had to rely on their grad student mentors to be able to write a legible paper. for fucks sake, he doesn’t even thing anyone could code in qiskit or cirq like you could; he had skimmed your notes once, left them behind after a lecture, and found them meticulous and sharp before he turned them into the professor to return to you.

and yet, despite the brilliance you carried with you, you had never given him a second glance.

that day at starbucks, though.

satoru rolled his head to the side, gaze drifting toward the window. he hadn’t expected to see anyone at five in the morning, let alone you. he’d been desperate for answers then—he had spent his night staring at his hands, which had seemed to keep ejecting spider-like webs after he’d been horribly sick. he knew he shouldn’t have gone fooling around in new york’s subway tunnels at 3am with suguru and shoko, but after a seemingly-harmless spider had bit him, he had been reeling from the discovery of his newfound powers and grappling with the weight of what they meant ever since. 

and there you were, unlocking the starbucks, bleary-eyed but no less composed.

you’d handed him his coffee, not interested in him the entire time, and he remembered blurting something out—something ridiculous about fate or responsibility, his usual bravado faltering in the quiet of the moment. he had been spiraling, unsure of who he was anymore, and you’d said something.

what was it again?

“it doesn’t have to be ‘more’ all the time. sometimes just showing up is enough.”

the words had stayed with him, carved deep into the corners of his mind. you didn’t know it, but they had pulled him back from the edge that day. since then, he’d started noticing you in ways he hadn’t before.

the way you brushed your hair behind your ear when you were deep in thought. the furrow of your brow when you argued as respectfully as you could with a professor (gojo knew you were holding back, though, and the thought always made him smile to himself because if he wasn’t an idgafer he would be incensed like you at the idiotic teacher). the smile—rare, fleeting, but utterly disarming—that occasionally lit up your face when you talked to utahime or that guy you were too friendly around, nanami.

“you’re doing that thing again,” suguru said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“what thing?” satoru asked, sitting up straighter.

“brooding. you’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

“no.”

suguru arched an eyebrow. “you’re a terrible liar.”

satoru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “fine. maybe i am. but it’s complicated.”

“how is it complicated?”

“she doesn’t like me,” satoru said, shrugging. “at least, not as me. she likes spider-man.”

suguru blinked, clearly unimpressed. “you’re being stupid bro.”

“i’m not being stupid,” satoru argued. “she thinks spider-man’s this amazing, selfless hero. she doesn’t know i’m just some guy who can’t even figure out how to flirt with her without making an ass of himself.”

suguru leaned back in his chair, regarding satoru with an almost pitying look. “so let me get this straight. you’re worried that she only likes spider-man, even though spider-man is you. like it’s some kind of split personality thing?”

“well, when you put it like that—”

“it sounds dumb,” suguru finished. “because it is dumb.”

satoru glared at him, but suguru only shrugged.  but how could he not think about you? even now, the memory of your voice—calm, steady, and unexpectedly warm—echoed in his head. you had this way of looking at him, like you were peeling back layers he didn’t even know he had. and that smile... he groaned inwardly. he wasn’t supposed to be so drawn to you, wasn’t supposed to imagine what it’d feel like to have you smile at him like that all the time.

“look,” suguru continued, “if you like her, shoot your shot. you’re already overthinking this, and you haven’t even done anything yet. what’s the worst that could happen? she says no?”

“or she laughs in my face,” satoru muttered.

“which would be deserved, honestly,” suguru said, smirking. “but seriously, you’ve got nothing to lose. and everything to gain.”

satoru didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the takeout boxes on the table. he wanted to believe suguru was right, but there was a small, stubborn part of him that wasn’t so sure.

because it wasn’t just about rejection, or even whether you liked him as satoru or spider-man. it was about what came after. if he let you in and something happened to you—if his double life brought danger to your doorstep—he wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself.

but then there was suguru’s voice in his head, steady and persistent: you’ve got nothing to lose. and everything to gain.

…

amidst a week of endless projects upon projects and other miscellaneous assignments from your research group partners (since the grad students loved to pile their work on top of you, the helpless undergrad), you find yourself nursing a hot chocolate while on top of your dormitory building’s roof. 

you find sanctuary, coming on here for time to yourself whenever you find yourself stuck in a busy week. quiet, solitary, with a view of the city lights flickering like scattered fireflies. you hugged your cardigan tighter around your shoulders as you stepped onto the roof, your laptop tucked under one arm, a mug of tea precariously balanced in the other hand. the air was crisp, biting just enough to sting your cheeks.

setting your mug down on the ledge, you perched beside it, pulling up your knees and balancing the laptop precariously as you typed. the words on the screen blurred after a while, blending into the chaos in your mind. frustrated, you closed it with a snap and leaned your head back to gaze at the stars.

“rough night?”

you startled, spinning your head around so fast your tea nearly toppled. but you can’t find anyone, just the sound of soft footsteps landing somewhere not visible to you. 

“you scared the hell out of me,” you sighed, clutching your chest.

“sorry,” he said, though his tone didn’t sound all that apologetic. “didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“then maybe don’t sneak up on people like that,” you muttered, still trying to calm your racing heart.

he chuckled, and the sound was warmer than you’d expected. “noted. so, what’s got you out here at three in the morning? don’t tell me you’re pulling an all-nighter.”

you sighed, the initial shock fading into a dull thrum of shyness. “it’s not an all-nighter if the night isn’t over yet.” then, you squint at a random spot, pretending it’s him. “besides, why are you here? shouldn’t you be out stopping robberies or saving cats from trees?”

“done and done,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the ledge. “now i’m just enjoying the view.”

you turned your gaze back to the skyline, hoping the darkness hid the faint heat creeping up your neck. “so, what’s a guy like you doing on a random rooftop at three in the morning?”

“could ask you the same thing,” he countered.

you hesitated. for some reason, admitting the truth to him felt easier than admitting it to anyone else. “just…needed a break.”

“from?”

“everything,” you said, exhaling slowly. “classes. expectations. people.” you paused, then added with a faint smile, “not you, though. you’re an exception.”

“oh?” his voice lightened, carrying a hint of playful intrigue. “should i feel honored?”

“maybe,” you said. “it’s not every day you get to meet a real hero.” then, “okay, but why do you always hide in the dark?”

his voice is smug, meant to be playful. “it adds to the mystique?”

you pout. “what if i call the police?”

“it’s not like the cops can catch me anyways, baby. their shitty coffee and donut filled asses aren’t enough to keep up with me.”

you really try not to flush when he calls you that pet name. “is success getting to you?”

“what success? most i hear is everyone debating whether or not i should be experimented on.”

“really?” you teased. “that’s not what i saw on my for you page last time. there are girls out there who want you to sign their tits after you rescued that baby.”

then, you hear the soft thud of nimble feet dropping onto the ceiling and turn your head to see him in all his glory. he has a muscular figure highlighted in his white suit, blue and black lines traveling their way across his body. casually, he stretches and then drops down to the floor, sitting cross legged from across from you as if joining you in a regular gossip sesh. he puts his elbow on his knee and rests his head on his hand. “are you one of those girls?”

you laugh sheepishly, turning away as heat creeps up your face again and your heart hammers, because you can’t exactly tell him that, yes you’re absolutely enamored with him after he saved you that day and yes, you do indeed want him to sign your tits.

“you should do that more,” he said.

“what?” you look back at him, wide eyed in confusion. 

“laugh.”

the way he said it, low and almost reverent, made your cheeks heat. you busy yourself with toying with your cardigan, scooting yourself away from the edge and closer to him. “and you should stop being such a flirt,” you said, though there was no bite in your voice.

“can’t help it,” he said, leaning closer. “it’s kind of my thing.”

“is that right?”

“mm-hmm.” he paused, then added, “you know, there’s something i’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“what?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.

“take my mask off.”

the words hit you like a gut punch, dissolving the playfulness that had filled the air seconds ago. you blinked up at him, searching his face—or at least what you could see of it—for any sign that this was some elaborate joke. but there was no hint of humor, no smirk tugging at his lips. he meant it.

your fingers hovered at your sides, hesitant. “are you sure?” the question came out soft, barely audible, but it felt like it echoed in the quiet night.

“never been more sure of anything,” he murmured, voice low and steady.

you swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. slowly, almost against your better judgment, you reached up, fingertips brushing the edge of his mask. the fabric felt smooth, warm under your touch, but your nerves were anything but.

with a deep breath, you peeled it back. bit by bit, his face came into view—a shock of white hair, impossibly sharp features, and finally, those eyes. those unmistakable, infuriatingly familiar blue eyes. your breath caught, and for a moment, the world tilted sideways.

“gojo?”

the name fell from your lips before you could stop it, unsteady and disbelieving. your mind raced, trying to piece together the impossible puzzle that had just landed in front of you.

he grinned—that grin, the one that always made you want to slap it off his face and yet somehow managed to disarm you every single time. “hey.”

“hey?” your voice cracked as you took a step back. “that’s all you have to say? hey?”

“would you prefer, ‘surprise’?” he quipped, his grin widening as though this was the most normal thing in the world.

you laughed, the sound a little hysterical but real, like you couldn’t contain the storm of emotions rushing through you. “surprised? you’ve been… you’ve been spider-man this whole time?” the words felt foreign on your tongue, like they didn’t belong in the same sentence as gojo satoru—the one you’d argued with in class, the one who had no problem making you want to tear your hair out. and yet here he was, standing in front of you, the last person you ever would have suspected to be the city’s most infamous masked hero.

gojo gave you that crooked grin, the same one he wore when he thought he had won—when he thought he had it all figured out. “i know. it’s a lot to take in.”

you stared at him, trying to make sense of it, but no amount of logic could bridge the gap between the gojo you knew—the guy who drove you up the wall in class and always had a cocky comeback—and the masked hero who had saved you and the one you had a crush on.

you didn’t know whether to scream, laugh, or cry. 

you take a shaky breath in, still trying to process everything. “you... you saved me, gojo. you’ve been right there, all these times, and i had no idea it was you.”

“guess i’m just that good at keeping secrets,” he said, his tone playful, but there was something more there, something softer, that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. his eyes held a flicker of something—maybe vulnerability, maybe uncertainty.

the weight of the moment hung thick in the air between you, and for a long second, you didn’t know what to say. this revelation was like the ground beneath you had cracked wide open, and you were left staring into an abyss that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

finally, you shook your head, letting out a short breath. “this is insane.”

he didn’t seem bothered by your reaction, though his eyes darkened just slightly, the smirk still there, but with something a little more honest creeping into his expression. “yeah. but you’re handling it better than i thought. kinda thought you would faint, or something.”

the world had shifted, but somehow, with gojo now sitting in front of you like this, with the mask off and the man behind the myth revealed, it felt like the pieces were finally starting to fall into place. even if they didn’t make perfect sense yet.

and yet, something about his presence—his undeniable realness—felt oddly grounding. he wasn’t the invincible spider-man anymore. he was just gojo. the gojo who had somehow become more than just your academic rival, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit more than that.

something in gojo’s facial expression shifted to something a bit more hesitant, a little nervous as he stands and extend his arm out to you. softly, he asks, “do you trust me?”

“yes.” you took his hand, standing up as he flashes you a charming, yet mischievous grin, one so shit eating that you regret saying that. “why?”

“i’m taking you for a ride. consider it an apology for freaking you out earlier.”

you hesitated, looking between his outstretched hand and the city skyline just beyond your college campus. “i don’t think this is a good idea—”

“you trust me, don’t you?”

and somehow, against all logic, you realized that you did.

“fine,” you said, stepping closer to him to cling onto him. 

he pulls you closer, and as he does so, he cranes his neck down to meet your eyes, smiling giddy. “anywhere you wanna go?”

you think for a moment, but know immediately the place where you’d like to visit that’s open at this ungodly hour. “do you know that one shawarma joint—-”

before you can even finish, the wind whips around you as gojo slips his mask back on, pulls you closer to him, and uses his free hand—that is, the one that’s not clinging onto your firmly—to shoot a glistening web, one that you saw when he used it on the man who harassed you in the ally. it clings onto a nearby building, and then you’re off the ground, soaring through the air.

you let out a scream of terror against gojo’s chest, tightening your arms around him. you can feel a laugh rumble in his chest, a boyish chuckle as he peers down at you and shouts, “are you having fun?” 

“gojo,” you whine, burying your head into his chest further. despite your initial fear, exhilaration creeps its way into you as you the city blur, skyline jumping and dipping as gojo effortlessly swung you both around. 

when he finally stopped, landing gracefully on a secluded rooftop, you were breathless—not just from the ride but from the way he was looking at you.

“you good?” he laughed, panting from the exertion and tenderly using his hand to rake his hand through your  hair, which, you note out of embarrassment, must’ve been messed up from the wind passing through it.

“i hate that you made me dizzy, but yea, i’m good,” you mumble, pulling out your phone to open your camera, fixing your hair.

when you’re done, gojo looks at you with the manic buzz you can only have at 3am. “ready to get some shawarma?”

…

the streets were eerily quiet, the kind of silence only a city at 3am could have. just the two of you, your footsteps echoing against the pavement, the occasional glow of a streetlamp painting your path.

“okay, that shawarma was like, mid at best,” gojo walks alongside you. he’s thrown on a sweatshirt and gray sweatpants over his suit, walking alongside you on the street. your stomachs are full, and you suggested a walk to be able to digest the bigass bowl you both ate.

“nothing tastes better than something you’re eating when you’re supposed to be studying, instead,” you shot back, hiding your little smile as you cross your arms while strolling. the shift between you and gojo was so jarring that you’re still reeling at it, but what is 3am if not for big life changes?

“yea, that’s fair,” he sighs, crossing his hands behind his head as he continues strolling beside you.  “so,” he continues, “now that i’ve officially blown your mind with my secret identity and fed you some incredibly mid shawarma, what’s next? should i fly you to paris, or is that too cliché?”

you roll your eyes, but deep inside, you’re really biting back a grin. “relax, bugboy. maybe first let me recover from being swung like a human pendulum.”

gojo stopped walking, turning to face you with a playful glint in his eye. “you’re still thinking about that, huh? admit it—you loved it.”

you raised an eyebrow. “i screamed into your chest for a solid ten seconds. does that sound like love to you?”

he tilted his head, feigning deep thought. “i dunno. there’s a fine line between terror and thrill. and judging by how tightly you were holding onto me…”

“you’re insufferable,” you muttered, but your voice lacked bite.

“and yet, you’re still here.”

his words hung in the air, the playful edge softening into something quieter, more sincere. your steps faltered, and you looked up at him, the absurdity of the night fading into the background as your gaze held his.

“guess i’m curious,” you admitted.

“curious, huh?” he said, taking a step closer. “careful. curiosity killed the cat.”

without thinking, you blurted, “at least i’ve got a fifty-fifty shot, right?” the words barely left your mouth before the regret hit, your inner voice screaming at you for making a lame quantum mechanics joke at a time like this. schrödinger would be proud, you thought bitterly.

but then gojo laughed—not the teasing, obnoxious kind of laugh or the weird look you’d expect, but a genuine, boyish chuckle that reached his eyes. he smiled at you, soft and unguarded, and suddenly, the space between you seemed to shrink.

the flickering streetlamp cast a warm, uneven glow over the two of you. in that moment, the sprawling city felt impossibly small, narrowed down to just him and the pounding of your heart in your ears.

gojo reached up, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “you know,” he murmured, his voice low, “i’ve been wanting to do this for a while now.”

your breath hitched, heart thundering in your chest. “do what?”

“this.”

before you could respond, he closed the space between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was somehow both soft, yet electrifying. for a moment, time seemed to stop, the city around you fading into nothing as the warmth of his touch anchored you in the moment.

when he finally pulled back, his grin was back in full force. “so, was that better or worse than shawarma?”

you blinked at him, still trying to find your footing in the aftermath of what just happened. an immediate feeling of bashfulness crept over you because not only did you just kiss spiderman, you just kissed gojo. there are girls who would kill to be in your position, and that makes you flustered as you turn your head away from him so you don’t have to make eye contact. “i hate you,” you mumble half heartedly, cheeks burning.

gojo doesn’t let you off so easily. his thumb brushes gently along your chin, coaxing your face back toward his. his touch is warm, deliberate, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“oh my god,” he says, a grin spreading across his face. “are you embarrassed? you’re so cute.”

when the warmth of his hand leaves your chin, you open your eyes, shocked as you find out that he’s nowhere to be seen. you call out a tentative, “gojo?” 

somewhere behind you, to the left, comes out a muffled shout. “i’m here!” you whip around, your brows furrowing as you follow the direction of his voice. it’s coming from an alley just off the street, dark and bathed in shadows.

“seriously?” you mutter under your breath, your annoyance half-hearted, making your way toward the sound. you find yourself at the mouth of the alley, the dim glow of a distant lamp barely illuminating his silhouette.

gojo’s perched on the side of the wall like it’s the most natural thing in the world, one leg propped up, his mask pulled halfway up to reveal that damn smirk. “you’re slow,” he teases, his tone light and infuriatingly smug.

“what are you doing?” you ask, crossing your arms.

he gestures toward himself. “you came looking for me, didn’t you?”

you roll your eyes, stepping closer despite yourself. “what, did you think i’d just leave you lurking in some alley like a creepy insect?”

“well,” he says, shooting a web to stick on the bottom of some stairs of one of the buildings to hang upside down, “you could’ve left, but i had a feeling you wouldn’t.”

before you could retort, he shoots his web closer to something on top of you, now dangling upside down yet again but his proximity even closer, stealing the air from your lungs. his fingers brush a strand of hair from your face, lingering just long enough to make your knees feel unsteady.

“so,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, “are we doing this again, or are you gonna keep pretending you hate me?”

your heart stutters, but before you can overthink it, you pull his mask down even further to uncover more of his lips, and you join them together—this time, softer, slower, as if savoring the moment. you grab at his chin to pull him closer to you, you both sighing into the kiss, and then smiling giddily each time you pull back, only to come back in.

and just like that, you start to fall into…something with not only the vigilante that’s swinging around new york, but also gojo satoru, your long-time rival.

…

when satoru swings by your dorm next, he doesn’t expect his heart to lurch so much at the view of you so cozy.

it’s undeniable; you and satoru have been dancing around each other. you’re not exactly a hook-up to each other—you two haven’t had sex—but you’re not exactly girlfriend and boyfriend. and it’s not something casual, either. he doesn’t reveal that he’s spiderman just to get into girls’ pants. 

you’ve both developed a sort of rapport, he supposes. it’s been stolen glances during phys401 and late nights spent talking or, occasionally, making out. you’ve even started to nurse his wounds, if he ever shows up with bruises and blood matting his suit. one of the perks of you having a single. 

he’s even fallen asleep overnight, especially on friday nights when he doesn’t have lecture in the morning. some of his things, like some spare equipment and suits, have even found their way into your closet. 

you’re both on a dangerous roller coaster, and satoru is closing his eyes on the fall down. 

but right now, he’s perched outside your window like a creep. you’re sitting on your bed, cross-legged and squinting at something on your laptop, and satoru smiles to himself as he sees your tank top and shorts and just how homey you look. you probably know satoru is coming, but you’re so comfortable around him that it makes his heart ache. he shouldn’t be doing this, but he can’t stop.

satoru lightly taps on your window, his knuckle brushing against the glass softly, not wanting to startle you. you glance up, catching sight of him, and there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your lips.

you get up, and satoru follows the movement of your bare legs with his eyes as you slide the window open. “you know, most people knock on doors like normal humans,” you say.

“i like to keep things interesting,” he shoots back, climbing in effortlessly. the faint chill from the night clings to him, and his hair is slightly disheveled from the wind.

he glances around your room, catching sight of your scattered notes and the distinct look of frustration etched across your face. “what’s got you looking so miserable?”

“phys401,” you reply with a resigned sigh, flopping back onto your bed. “this problem set is impossible.”

satoru smirks, peeling off his gloves and mask and plopping down beside you. “let me see.”

acquiescing, you hand over your notebook, watching as he scans your work with intent, eyebrows scrunching as he tries to understand the statement to prove. he makes a few thoughtful noises, before grabbing a pen and scribbling something down. “here,” he says after a moment, “you’re overcomplicating this step. instead of doing the tensor product you did, you could just make this zero by taking an inner product, since they’re orthogonal states. the rest will fall into place.”

you squint at his messy, rushed handwriting, and sure enough, the proof seems to come together. “how are you so good at this?” 

“physics prodigy, remember?” he teases, leaning back on his hands as he lays down on your bed.

“thanks for the help,” you say softly, your eyes lingering on him a beat too long. he’s kind of dreamy, you think. the moonlight filters across your window, giving his platinum hair a sheen as his cerulean eyes look into yours with kindness. 

his smirk fades, replaced by something softer, something unspoken. “anytime.” he then makes a show of stretching out his limbs, purposely bumping into you with one eye open smugly to observe your reaction, to which you glare at him. he spots your notebook, picks it up, and flips through it. “you know, for someone who complains so much about phys401, you’re not half bad at it,” he teases, scribbling something in the margin of your notes by grabbing a stray pen next to him.  

you roll your eyes, shifting so you’re cross-legged on the bed, facing him. “not all of us are physics prodigies, satoru. some of us actually have to work hard.”  

he chuckles, handing the notebook back to you. “hard work is overrated when you can just charm your way through everything.”  

you snort and joke, “if charm was all it took, i’d have aced the midterm.”  

there’s a beat of silence as you glance down at his notes. he’s corrected a mistake you hadn’t even noticed, and his scrawled proof flows so effortlessly it makes you a little envious. “how do you do that?” you ask, more to yourself than him.  

“do what?”  

“make it look so… easy,” you say, frowning slightly. “everything. physics, life, swinging through the city.”  

satoru leans back on his palms, his smirk softening. “trust me, it’s not as easy as it looks.”  

you glance up at him, surprised by the honesty in his tone. “what do you mean?”  

he shrugs, but there’s something vulnerable in the way his gaze flickers away from yours. “i mean, everyone sees the guy with the jokes and the perfect test scores, but no one sees the late nights or the bruises.” he gestures vaguely to his chest, where you know the bruises from his spider-man escapades hide. “guess i’m just good at pretending.”  

you sit with his words, the weight of them settling between you. “you don’t have to pretend with me, you know,” you say softly.  

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the mask—the real one—drops. “i know,” he says, just as softly.  

the air between you feels heavier, like the world has shrunk to just the two of you. you’re hyper-aware of how close he is, the faint smell of the night clinging to him, the way his knee brushes against yours.  

“thanks,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “for letting me be here. for…” he trails off, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up.  

your breath catches. “satoru…”  

“yeah?” he says, leaning in slightly, his voice lower now.  

“i…” you trail off, not even sure what you were going to say.  

he leans closer, and it feels like everything around you stills. his hand finds its way to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “can i?” he asks, his voice barely audible.  

you nod, and then his lips are on yours.  

the kiss starts tentative, almost shy, but it doesn’t stay that way for long. it deepens, his hand sliding to your waist as you pull him closer. the tension that had been building for weeks—months, maybe—finally snaps, leaving nothing but heat and want in its wake.  

his weight presses you back into the bed, and you can feel his heart racing against yours as he pins you to the bed, now on top of you. his hand slips under the hem of your shirt, warm against your skin, and as his thumb traces shapes into your circle and closer to more sensitive areas, a sigh escapes you.  

that’s when he freezes.  

he pulls back, his breathing uneven, his eyes wide and filled with something like fear. “we can’t,” he says, his voice hoarse.  

your heart drops into your chest.

“why not?” you ask, trying to catch your breath.  

“because,” he says, sitting up and running a hand through his hair and he’s heaving. “because i’m spider-man, and you—” he breaks off, looking anywhere but at you. “you deserve better than this. better than me.”  

you sit up, pulling your shirt back into place and looking at him, hurt. “that’s not your call to make, satoru.”  

“i’m trying to protect you!” he says, his voice rising in agitation. he sits back onto his heels, raking a hand through his hair as he looks at the ceiling, as if in pain.

you can’t believe him. his self-righteousness irritates you to no end, especially after you’ve bared your soul, and now your body to him, something you considered intimate. you feel conflicted—whatever you had, it didn’t have a label. but that didn’t mean that you didn’t want that to be true. badly.

“and who asked you to?” you snap back. “i’m not some damsel in distress who needs saving.”  

“i know that,” he says, his tone softening. “but if something happened to you because of me…” he shakes his head. “i couldn’t live with that.”  

the anger bubbling in your chest boils over, and you snap. “so what? you’re just going to walk away? after everything?”  

he stands, his expression pained. “i’m sorry,” he says, heading for the window.  

“don’t you dare apologize,” you say, your voice trembling as you stand by the foot of your bed, hating how your eyes brim with tears. “if you leave, don’t bother coming back.”  

he pauses, his hand on the window frame, before glancing back at you. “i’m sorry,” he says again, softer this time, before slipping out into the night.  

the window clicks shut behind him, and you’re left alone in the silence, the ache in your chest threatening to swallow you whole. 

…

the whir of the espresso machine and the gentle hum of background music fill the mostly empty starbucks, the occasional customer wandering in like clockwork. it’s a quiet shift, the kind you’d usually relish—except today, the quiet only makes the knot in your chest tighten.

you’re stationed behind the counter, staring blankly at the milk steamer as it hisses, lost in your thoughts. that is, until utahime’s voice breaks through.

“alright, spill,” she says, leaning her elbows on the counter beside you.

you glance at her, eyebrows raised. “spill what?”

utahime rolls her eyes, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “oh, please. you look like someone stole your favorite pen and broke it in half. what’s going on?”

“nothing,” you lie, turning back to the steamer. “i’m fine.”

utahime’s skeptical gaze bores into you. “you’re a terrible liar. nanami, back me up.”

from his spot at a nearby table, nanami looks up from his book, his sharp eyes narrowing as they lock onto you. “it’s boy trouble,” he says flatly, like he’s solving an equation.

your head snaps toward him, a glare already forming. “excuse me?”

“it’s obvious,” he says, setting his book down and regarding you with his usual piercing gaze. “you’re distracted, you look upset—it’s boy trouble.”

utahime perks up, leaning closer. “wait, is he right? is this about a guy?”

you let out a groan, leaning your elbows on the counter. “can you two not gang up on me right now?”

“so it is a guy,” utahime says, her tone turning smug.

“i didn’t say that,” you retort, but the heat in your cheeks betrays you.

nanami raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your deflection. “you might as well just tell us. it’s not like we’re going to let it go.”

you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “fine. it’s… someone i liked. someone i thought liked me too. but he freaked out and said it was too…dangerous to keep going.”

utahime frowns, her curiosity replaced by concern while kento snorts. “dangerous? what does that even mean?”

“that’s what i’d like to know,” you say bitterly, the frustration bubbling up as you speak. “he acts like he cares, but the second things get serious, he bolts. like i’m some fragile thing that can’t handle it.”

nanami leans back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “he might not be scared of you. he could be scared of what it means for him. of responsibility and commitment. some people run when they feel too much.”

utahime nods, her hand resting gently on your arm. “whatever his problem is, it’s not fair to you. if he can’t get it together, that’s on him, not you.”

you glance between them, the weight of their words settling in your chest. “i know that,” you say quietly. “it just… sucks.”

“of course it does,” utahime says, her voice soft but firm. “but you’re not the problem here. don’t let him make you think you are.”

nanami picks up his book again but pauses before opening it. “and don’t let him live rent-free in your head. if he can’t see what he’s giving up, that’s his loss.”

their support feels grounding, like a steady hand in the middle of a storm. you manage a small smile, nodding. “thanks, guys.”

“anytime,” utahime says, flashing you a reassuring grin. nanami simply nods, returning to his book but keeping an eye on you like always. for the first time all week since gojo left your room, the heaviness in your chest feels a little lighter.

…

the knock at your window is faint, almost timid, but it jolts you out of your daze. you sit up in bed, your heart pounding as your eyes dart toward the window. it’s late—so late it’s early—and for a moment, you think you imagined it. you hate to admit it, but because of your boy troubles you haven’t been able to sleep all week. you’re also no stranger to imagining ants crawling up your body or phantom noises, so you adjust in your bed, trying to go back to sleep.

then it comes again, a little louder this time.

you throw off the blanket and pad over, the chill of the floor biting at your bare feet. when you pull the curtain aside, your breath catches.

satoru.

he’s crouched outside, his suit torn in places and soaked with blood. his head lolls slightly, like he’s barely holding himself up, and when he lifts his gaze to meet yours, it’s tired and pleading.

you don’t think—there’s no time for that. you unlatch the window and shove it open, reaching out to help him inside. “satoru, oh my god,” you breathe, your voice shaking.

“hey,” he mutters, his grin weak but still so unmistakably him. “sorry for the mess.”

“shut up,” you snap, guiding him onto your bed and setting him down with gentle hands, ones that contrast your tone with him. “what the hell happened?”

“nothing i couldn’t handle,” he says, wincing as he tries to sit up straighter and flashes you a sheepish smile. “you should see the other guy.”

“you’re bleeding everywhere, satoru. you clearly didn’t handle it.” you grab your first aid kit from under the bed and yank it open, your hands trembling.

“i’ve had worse,” he murmurs, but his bravado is thin, cracking at the edges.

“stop talking,” you say, your voice trembling and cracking. “just—just stop.”

for once, you thank the gods that he listens.

you work quickly, cutting away the shredded fabric of his suit and cleaning the worst of the wounds. it’s not pretty—his torso is littered with bruises and gashes, the kind that make your stomach turn—but you keep your focus.

when you press a disinfectant-soaked pad to a particularly deep cut, he hisses, his hand flying to grab your wrist.

“sorry,” you whisper, glancing up at him with a tender look in your eyes. his expression matches yours, and your faces are so close to each other that you can’t bear it anymore, going back to your work.

his fingers loosen but don’t let go, his grip warm and grounding. “you’re good at this,” he says softly, his voice rough.

“yeah, well,” you mutter, ducking your head to avoid his gaze. “you’ve given me plenty of practice.”

the silence stretches as you finish bandaging him up. when you’re done, you sit back, your hands still trembling as you place them in your lap. “you’re an idiot,” you say, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

he laughs, soft and hoarse. “yeah. i get that a lot from this girl i know.”

you look up at him, and the weight of everything—his injuries, his secret, the distance he tried to put between you—crashes over you. “you can’t keep doing this, satoru. you can’t keep pushing me away just to show up like this.”

his smile fades, replaced by something raw and unguarded. “i know,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “i know, but…”

“but what?” you demand, your voice cracking. “you’re spider-man? you think that’s an excuse to keep shutting me out?”

“it’s not an excuse,” he says, running a hand through his messy hair, matted with even more blood. his or someone else’s, you’re not sure. “it’s a reason. i don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“you think i’m not already hurting?” you snap, the anger bubbling to the surface yet again. “you think it doesn’t kill me to see you like this and know i can’t do anything to stop it?”

his eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks like a little boy, lost and unsure. it is then that it hits you that he’s just twenty. a college student, not someone who’s wanted by the cia or someone who’s battled terrorists. for fucks sake, he can’t even legally drink. 

and your heart can’t help but melt as he says, “i just… i don’t want to lose you.”

“then stop trying to,” you say, your voice softer now. “stop pretending like you’re protecting me by keeping me at arm’s length. let me in, satoru.”

he stares at you, his breath hitching like he’s holding back a thousand words. then, in a rush, he closes the distance between you, his hands cradling your face as he presses his forehead to yours.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “i’m so sorry.”

you exhale shakily, your hands finding their way to his wrists. “just stop being an idiot, okay? stop trying to do this alone.”

he nods, his grip tightening like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “i promise,” he says, and for the first time, you believe him.

…

a cramp gripping satoru’s entire leg is what wakes him up. 

he winces in memory of the injury; one of those stupid terrorists had too good of an aim, grazing his leg while he was mid-air. it hurts like a bitch now, and he moves to lay on his back, until something stops him. roses.

he looks, bleary eyed, to you. the floral scent coming from you, making him dizzy. his body cocooning yours. 

you both unconsciously moved in your sleep so that you were spooning, your fragrant hair, soft from shampooing, tickling his throat with your ass in his crotch.

nestled right against his morning wood.

good fucking lord, he groans to himself, then starts to panic because if you wake up and realize he had a raging hard-on while you were sleeping, you would definitely think he was a creep. he’s already on thin fucking ice. so naturally, he starts to recite the star spangled banner while trying to will his boner away.

oh, say can you see—

to no avail, because you huff softly in your sleep, soft and warm body unconsciously leaning back to grind your ass against his lap, turning his dick to steel.

“oh, fuck,” he curses out loud, using his hand to cover the lower half of his face and clench his eyes shut. you feel so sweet, innocently adjusting while he can’t even control his lust for you.

but once the grind seems to continue for a bit too long, more than what can be chalked up as adjusting in your sleep, he peers down at you. you’re awake. 

and because satoru’s selfish, his hands creep up your tank top, settling on your bare stomach, where he knew you were ticklish. as a result, you wiggle, and he uses this opportunity to pull you even closer to him, right up against him. 

“baby,” he says, making his voice all deep and sighs on purpose, just to be unfair to you. “is this okay?”

you whine, and he settles his face in your hair, the strands of it tickling his skin as he inhales in the scent of you. “i thought it was a dream.”

he smiles into your hair. you make him feel like sunshine incarnate, and the rush he’s getting right now is akin to the one he gets jumping off the empire state building. “no, this is very real.”

“hm,” and you continue to drag your ass into him, murmuring in a soft voice that makes him want to take you right there and then, “it still feels like a dream. like you’re not real, right now.”

oh, what he would do to make you say his name in that same voice; he wants to whisper all the things he wants to do to you right now. “i know, baby. you feel like a dream.” his hands continue to slide up and up your torso, groaning at your sharp intake as he gently fondles the softness of your breasts. 

you overwhelm his senses, teasing him, and when you let out a whine of his name, satoru snaps.

“i’m going to make you feel good right now. tell me if it’s a fucking dream,” he grits out, ignoring whatever cramps that were screaming at him to get on top of you. 

you gasp out a “satoru,” wriggling in his grasp, and he can’t take it anymore. he brings up one of his hands. shoots a web that lands right on your left hand. then your right hand.

satoru just tied you up using his webs.

you look at him in whatever version of shock you can muster in your tired state. “satoru, what the—” but you’re muffled, because he’s kissing you, hard, roving his hands up and down your body and grabbing whatever he can as if he’s devouring you while making out with you.

“do you know,” and his eyes flash dangerously while looking down at yours, “how you’ve teased me with these shorts?” his hands trails down to the waistband of the offending piece of clothing, pulling it to make it snap against your skin. you jump, looking at satoru desperately, who’s left you bare at his mercy, subject to his super human strength as he grabs your shorts with both his hands again. “every fucking time i’ve sneaked up in to your room, it’s been so hard to not fuck you senseless in these flimsy things. it’s only fair you pay the price, right baby?”

it’s not like you have anything to answer him with, having lost all brain cells being fucked out like this. he pulls them down, and if he had laser vision, he would have stared through your panties long ago, eyes fixated on the crotch that was nearly translucent with the amount of slick going through it. burying his face right in between your thighs, he noses at your cunt before groaning. then, he uses his teeth to grab onto the middle and pull. until your pussy is bare to him.

“oh, fuck you’re so pretty,” he curses, lapping at your sweetness. his tongue roves up and down your folds, and if your hands could, they would be pulling at his hair solely because you were so sensitive. but you were trapped, thighs gripped in his strong hands and your arms trapped by his ultra-strong webs. “my good girl.”

then, you feel pressure at your opening. “sato—” you squeal but are immediately interrupted by your own moan as he curls his long, thick fingers, eyes observing your every movement as you squirm, electric shocks running up and down your body as he hits your spot dead-on.

and he notices, because the motherfucker chuckles. “oh, so that’s the spot, huh?” he purrs, visibly pleased as he memorizes it and abuses it, hitting it with every stroke. you barely notice him add one finger, add two fingers as he starts to suck on your clit. overwhelmed with pleasure, you’re only brought back to reality when he rips all contact away from you.

“what—” you mumble mindlessly, until you see what he’s doing. he pulls his sweatpants down. and he’s not wearing boxers, so you drool when his cock springs out, leaking copiously and hard. without taking his eyes off you, he pumps it to its fullest length, and you’re just staring in awe at its sheer length.

“what’re you looking at, baby?” he teases, using his hand to wiggle his cock in front of your face to mock you. “want it so bad, isn’t that right?”

you glare at him half-heartedly, but whine regardless. “just put it in, gojo.”

“oh,” and he flashes you a smile that makes a big danger sign in red flash across your mind. “it’s gojo, now is it?”

 “satoru,” there are tears brimming in the corner of your eyes, the ones that make satoru even more aroused at your want, “please. i need it.”

a boyish grin and a forehead kiss that has you reeling at his duality. “anything for my woman in stem.” with that, he pushes in, both of your eyes rolling back as his cock is engulfed by your gummy walls. soon after, he starts thrusting, desperation fueling both of you as you cross your legs behind gojo’s back, the deeper angle making his thighs shake while fucking into you. 

he grabs your face, gives you a tender kiss. “fuck, i love this pussy. so sweet for me.” 

you give him a wanton moan in return as he continues to thrust deep, tender strokes into you. “satoru, ‘m not gonna last long.” with the amount of foreplay he’s done alongside how sensitive you are, you’re steadily reaching your orgasm already, and with the way satoru’s now tightly gripping the sheets beside you while thrusting inside you, he is too.

wet squelching noises echoes across the room, and you know the neighbors can hear the obscene plap! plap! plap! coming from skin meeting skin, your hips against his. he buries his face into your neck, panting at your ear until he uses his hand to wrench your face towards his.

“i love you,” he groans, forcing your eyes to meet his. “i love you forever and will do so. so you can’t break my heart,” and he’s desperately thrusting again, “and you can’t leave me. please.”

at his confession, you break, back arching as you also squeal out a iloveyou while gasping loudly, hips rolling to rise against his as he fucks you through your orgasm. quickly, his thrusts veer into overstimulation and you whine. “toru.” he takes one look at your state—face impossibly flushed, hands tied, and pussy absolutely engulfing his cock, and his orgasm hits him like a truck, making him gasp and bend and break as he goes to heaven and back with the aftershocks of your orgasm making your pussy clench around him so beautifully. his cum enters you in hot spurts, making you exhale sharply at the feeling as he comes down from his orgasm, collapsing next to you.

for a few minutes, heavy breathing fills the room, both of you catching your breaths. until satoru breaks the silence. “so, what’s it like to fuck a superhero?”

you take one look at him—all smug and propped up on his elbow—and spidey sense be damned as you try grab a pillow. key word is try because you’re then wrenched back with a reminder that you’re still bound. “satoru,” and you give him a sickly sweet smile, the one that he knows means he’s in trouble, “when are these going to dissolve?”

and satoru pretends to be deep in thought, but you can see him trying to inch off the bed slowly, as if to escape your wrath after his answer. “uhm…maybe five hours?”

if it weren’t for the damn spidey sense that he had, he wouldn’t have been able to escape the swing of your legs as you looked at him murderously. “satoru gojo you will unhand me from these webs this instant—-“

“i don’t know,” he shrugs, shit eating grin in his face. “you look kinda sexy in bed like this. mad at me.” but when your eyes flash with anger, he hiccups nervously, telltale of the fact he won’t mess with you.

“i hate you,” you groan out, pouting like a petulant child while you glare at the ceiling.

 satoru comes close to you to bend at his waist and give you a forehead kiss. “no, you don’t.” 

you give him a pointed glare, telling him not to be testy. “clean me up. now.”

at your expression, his eyes widen in fear and he salutes. “anything for you, ma’am.”

at his retreating form, you giggle and sigh to yourself. you never would’ve known that spider-man would be the one fetching a clean up rag for you after fucking the shit out of you, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

when satoru comes back, he cleans you up, tenderly, as if he is afraid that you will break. you’re a little drowsy when he returns to you, but he doesn’t dare try to wake you up when he hears little breaths from your nose indicating you’ve fallen asleep. after he finishes his job, he admires your features.

satoru lingers for a moment, his gaze softening as he watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest. the weight of his responsibilities presses on him, as it always does, but tonight, it feels heavier—like a tether pulling him between the life he’s chosen and the life he craves.

you, so peaceful in sleep, represent something fragile, something precious. and that terrifies him. because what if he fails? what if the cost of being spider-man is losing the one thing that feels real?

still, he knows he can’t walk away—not from this city, not from you. with a deep breath, he leans down and presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead, a silent promise lingering in his chest.

“i’ll keep you safe,” he murmurs, barely audible. “no matter what.”

instead of leaving, satoru settles down beside you, careful not to disturb your rest. the city can wait, just for a little while. for now, he wraps an arm around you, grounding himself in the warmth of your presence. as your breathing evens out against him, he lets his own eyes drift shut, the weight of his responsibilities momentarily lifting. today, he chooses to stay.

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n ok if you're ever curious what being fucked in the ass with a wooden dildo no lube is like, just try to write this fic or any longfic. it's 4am, this a/n is short and unintelligble just like most of this fic but it's been a journey, im very sentimental because of this fic and i hope you guys like it. ok im going to pass out so pls ignore all typos xoxo but please flood my inbox im excited to see yalls reactions when i wake up

plspls pls comment and reblog!!!

TAGLIST

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto @cheescakebroom

@r0ckst4rjk @callmeagardengnome @rottmntrulesall @blankwashed @sindulgent666

@honeynanamin @obsessgurlll @starrnai @herefor-tojis-tits @ramonathinks

@creamflix

[iceunhie]

— PUSH AND PULL : honkai star rail.

premise. as someone who's always believed in the term “try and try again,” (peak delusion, you know) rooting yourself in their heart has always been your goal, no matter the cold rejections and curt declines you receive. however, even you have your limits; perhaps this little push and pull you two have going isn't worth your time after all... but what happens then, if the chaser becomes the chased? (oh, how the turns have tabled.)

...or, when you play hard to get with them.

— ft. sunday, aventurine, jing yuan.

warnings: angst n fluff, messy messy, these boys are in love but are wayyy too chicken to admit they actually adore you, genderless reader.

a/n. inspired by @/xiaowhore's playing hard to get headcanons! my holy trinity 😇 n MY FAVES RAHHH

NEXT : BACK TO MASTERLIST || ASKBOX

SUNDAY is perplexed. very much aware of his qualities which enlists him as one of the finer (finest) bachelors of Penacony (he was the Robin's one and only blood, and was also the head of one of the main guiding forces of the Family, after all), sunday isn't sure he's ever come across someone as.... tenacious as you.

foolish, to be more precise, for he cannot for the life of him comprehend exactly why you are the way you are with... him.

no matter his respectful declines of your invitations to promenade around Penacony (re: going on dates), you really didn't know how to leave him be. though he hasn't exactly said he hated it, sunday was, admittedly, rather... affronted. your gifts, in particular, were your loud declarations of your affection (that make his wings flutter more rapidly than he'd like); but sunday was rather inconvenienced at the whole thing.

nonetheless, he does still accept them. reluctantly, mind you. not because he was fond of your constant shower of affections, which seemed so permanent that he began to look forward to them got used to it. to your credit, your gifts were very much to his tastes. (Robin once gave him a rather soul-searching look when he found himself wearing the gloves you gifted, light blue and white in color. he still uses it, just not when his sister is in the vicinity.)

in fact, perhaps he may have gotten too comfortable. little by little, your constant intrusions on his time have thawed a way to his heart; making sunday look forward to your jovial greetings and grandeur elaborations on your day, and such a thing makes him feel scared sunday needed to nip this in the bud, and fast.

so he confronts you, abruptly one day as you give him his newest gift—a jewelry box for his earrings. (surely, the rapid thumping of his heart was due to his irritation at your constant persistence, right?) “i'm afraid this can no longer continue. i am flattered by your... fancy for me, but i do not wish to enter a relationship in the near future.”

the utter silence that follows is torture to him—but he endures. he tries not to look at the momentary flash of hurt on your face. you seemed to quickly recover, though. giving him a simple smile (it didn't reach your eyes. it shocks him how his chest ached at the realization) and shaking your head when he returns the gift to you.

“i understand, mr. sunday.” the formal usage of his name instead of your chipper ‘sunday!’ makes his face twitch. “but please, keep the gift. think of this as my last declaration. it... would do me a great comfort, just this last time, if you accepted it instead.”

(if he had grabbed your hand at that moment as you left for the door, would he regret it?)

when you leave, sunday thought it would put the conflicting feelings in his mind at ease—but it doesn't. a week and two days counting, true to your word, sunday receives no flagrant gifts, nor little messages on his phone that tell him to take care of himself, to eat, and to make sure to remember to check up on Robin.

instead, contrary to the feeling of ease, regret follows him instead.

it's at two weeks and five days counting when sunday could no longer stand the sight of papers that stacked atop his desk and the image of you leaving for the door replaying in his head far too many times for him to count, that he contacts Robin.

and she, once hearing about the situation, gives him a very, very enlightening talk. (of course, not without giving her brother a lecture of the lifetime. part of him felt shame to know that his sister knew of his... turbulent love life, but she was the only one who he could trust, anyway).

“absence makes the heart grow fonder,” she says. “but in your case, brother, your heart has already decided it's course, right?”

sunday eyes the smooth velvet of the jewelry box you gifted, ruminating. his earrings lie there, carefully pristine and beautiful, gold and silver intertwined. he has worn them without fail, clean and spotless. (of course it was. such a design so intricate was only chosen by you. the thought makes his ears warm).

the next days are agonizing. vigor renewed and epiphanies well-spent, sunday spends the rest of his time after finishing his duties researching and painstakingly finding the best jeweller he can find (even employing the suggestions of a certain gambler, much to his dislike), and spending a god awful amount of time revisiting and rechecking which spots you like, which places you enjoy, to the point it comes up in Penacony's headlines that sunday is interested in someone.

surely, it should've reached your ears by now, yes? sunday panics. your preferences are well-accounted for, and he's sure the Bloodhound family members that report to him have to tell you that the person he had in mind was you. even Robin, who was your closest friend, has probably told you already.

it's embarrassing to admit, but; to hell with it, the day he meets you after three weeks and sees you having a pleasant chat with aventurine, of all people, sunday thinks his heart had shattered into little pieces and stabbed themselves into his body. not so much as sparing him a glance, moreso.

so when, finally at his wits end, sunday chooses to corner you at the dewlight pavilion and spills out how he has royally screwed up in the worst way possible, no one is surprised. at this rate, you would be swept up in the charms of that wretched gambler, and what sunday lacked in, aventurine more than made up for.

“wait, don't go to that gambler just yet.” he's breathless, he's chaotic—and something in his heart squeezes when you finally look at him. “i... i wish to take up your time now, if that's possible.” (he wishes he would take up your time forever, really, but that was still too early).

you eye his getup. all of your gifts, lined on the man you spent so long chasing after—you see the gloves you gifted, the tie with not so much as a single crease, and the earrings that shine more brightly in the light of the pavilion. (it suits him. like you) it was as if sunday had completely surrendered himself to you, had all but decided to proclaim that he was yours, and this was nothing short of a plea for you to hear him.

“please.” he says. almost begs. “i can't bear not seeing you anymore. allow me to correct such a damning mistake.”

and if you were skeptical, the way sunday looks at you would dispel any doubt you could ever have. (his wings, they were fluttering.)

(months later, after a nerve-ending confession, many days of dinners, shared gifts involving matching jewelry and promenading to your wishes, it dawns on sunday he was absolutely dancing to your tune. did he regret it, though?

....no, most certainly not.)

if AVENTURINE were to be honest with himself, he saw you as a useful “friend” rather than a romantic interest. was it bad of him? of a sort. but risk cutting himself open and letting someone he might grow to care for know about all the ugliness that follows his life? no, he's fine as it is, thanks.

the first thing he notices is that you're kind—though he distrusted most of his colleagues and preferred none to get close to him, aventurine, in some morbid moment of curiosity, instead allowed himself to bask in your attention. instead of curtly disparaging you, he flirts back at your compliments (the way your face heated up in return was far too endearing that he can't help but want to kiss you he finds it amusing) and consistently texts you a “did you get home safe” or a “i bought you this because it reminded me of you”; at this point, it was like you two were dating.

was it leading you on? yes, but he supposes it was a win-win; he could send you those tiny bits of validation that was enough for you to stay respectfully at a distance while he probed at your intentions. unlike others who attempt to garner his favor, you're genuine, and you seriously take the time to know him. because you always text back with hearts, always reassure him, tell him to stay safe and wish him luck at every gamble, every high stakes bet he finds himself in. you even complimented his perfume once (and, if he had to be honest, he could not stop thinking about it all day—because that perfume he commissioned exclusively was based off of your own favorite scents and it was extremely embarrassing that he loved hugging you knowing that you loved the way he smelled and that it felt extremely domestic).

(sometimes, he doesn't reply. for months on end. suddenly the golden-haired man you love goes cold and you know then that aventurine ghosts you and then returns when he's in need of a friend—never a lover. it hurts you, but at the very least, you know he cares in his own way.)

and, if aventurine had to be honest, it was killing him from the inside bit by bit. as if to drive the knife deeper, you never danced around what exactly was going on with you two. you never ask why he ghosts you, then sends you a bundle of gifts all of a sudden and then rapidly spends time with you and repeating the cycle. no, you were consistently by his side, so warm and so caring—so unlike him—that aventurine wonders if it's really all right to open his heart to you.

if, by some chance, he actually wanted to be with you, would you treat him even more sweetly than before? aventurine thinks you would—you were beautiful in your entirety, and he was practically undeserving of you. he imagines himself kissing your hand and having you in his arms—and that feels like ice cold water being dumped onto his head, because you could do so much better and yet, why him?

so when aventurine hears about how a certain doctor was visiting you for some unknown reason, his already fragile sense of security in this little will-they, won't they crumbles.

and when he finds out that you were staying over with ratio? something twisted lodges itself in the little brushes of his heart, coiling and coiling—making him feel green. aventurine is aware you and the doctor are good friends, and ratio was the one who even told you to make a move on him! how could he just—suddenly interrupt?!

(was it dramatic? extremely. but knowing his friend and the person he secretly adores might end up together? you can't really blame him.)

he supposes this can be attributed to him. it was an egregious mistake, a blunder aventurine made—he never gave you a clear sight of whether he truly loved you or not and now you're slipping away from him.

so, he does something very unexpected.

at 3:00 AM in the wee early morning hours, aventurine practically barges into one Dr. veritas ratio's home, demanding what the hell was going on between you. and as if he had expected it, his doctor friend merely gives him a shrug in return.

“perhaps they were simply getting fed up by a certain IPC member—who is clearly head over heels in love with them—giving them mixed signals.” ratio's tone is stern, and aventurine definitely knows that the look he gives him is the one he gives only to fools.

you idiot, the doctor seems to say. yeah, yeah, he is; aventurine ignores the clear pinprick at his dignity.

yes, he supposes he is the fool here. “ah.”

“yes, ‘ah,’ indeed. now, let me propose a question.” the purple-haired man says. “will you react in such a way when i tell you that in order for my friend to stop their anguish, i managed to get them to fraternize with one of my colleagues?”

“...what?”

“they will be having a meet-up seven system hours from now.” ratio shrugs. eyes aventurine, who's looking at him like a gaping, stupid fish. “i can only hope that no one would dare to disrupt.”

...it doesn't take him long to be rid of the gambler by then.

(a few hours later, you stop by the Intelligentsia Guild to see one veritas ratio with a smug smile, eyeing the fur coat draped around your shoulders, and the flushed and happy expression written on your face.

“did it work?” he asks.

you laugh, “splendidly.”

indeed, that gambler was a fool, and there's nothing more than dr. ratio loved than to educate such fools to shape.

“that will teach him.”)

as a quote unquote ‘old man’ who knows that he's well up in his years for a relationship, JING YUAN finds you to be quite amusing.

it doesn't take a detailed analysis to know that you were smitten with him, really. you're a complete open book by his standards—if your heated face and slightly airy voice whenever you were even placed in the same vicinity with the Dozing General was anything to come by. while flattering, he also shares the similar mindset of being too old for any love his way—and he could be mara-struck at any given time, and jing yuan does not wish such a life filled with anguish and pain for the one who may steal his heart. but, worry not, brave suitor of the Arbiter General! unlike the other two above, this man has the experience of millenia, and is open-minded and aware that you truly wish to be perceived as a potential lover.

in fact, jing yuan's recent favorite habit is sneaking off the Seat of Divine Foresight purely to freak you out, watching you scramble up your words, seeing the heat crawl up your nape and bloom all across your face. adorable. you certainly knew how to appeal, that's for sure.

(“heh, it seems i've found a new place to stay in so that the Diviner Fu won't grill me alive when she sees me.”

and when he's rewarded with a bashful and speechless look in return, a smile and your, “i'm glad, general.” it surprisingly lightens up his mood by more than he expected.

that, in turn, gives him a frightening 30% energy boost; fu xuan was utterly shocked to see the languid man actually working and looking like he enjoyed it, for once.

“did something good happen today, jing yuan? why so enthusiastic?”

“i just felt like working more than usual, diviner Fu. i seem to have my energy levels at a high.”)

now, jing yuan is considerate and perceptive first and foremost, so there's a high chance that out of all the men here, he is the most open to giving you the chance to pursue him. he does inform you beforehand that he has no plans of accepting your confessions in the future, and that is where the ‘hard to get’ part comes in.

it's like playing a confusing romance visual novel with a fickle love interest—you never really know what you're doing, whether it's something jing yuan would like or not, and you don't know if he even thinks your attempts are moving his heart. (tldr: he friend zones you).

he maintains the same distance no matter his banters with you, no matter how many times you tell him that you'd help yanqing out with sword lessons. it's like he was just... treating you as he would a friend, and that you were basically stuck in the friend-zone forever.

(he keeps it to himself, but something warm stirs in his chest when he sees yanqing sleeping on your shoulder after training practice, with your arm protectively around the boy's side.

your sleeping face didn't make it easy to look away either; it's one of the few moments in which jing yuan shows just the slightest bit of reciprocating your pursuits; he brushes back the stray hairs covering your face, and drapes a blanket over the two of you.

of course, perhaps to tease yanqing, he also takes the calligraphy brush and makes a work out of his face, doodling all over it.

when you wake up, there's a lingering scent of ink and yellowed paper that fills your senses. when you turn to the boy beside you, you almost giggle out loud.)

it's a little disheartening—and while jing yuan did acknowledge that you were slowly, slowly burrowing yourself in his heart, he doesn't act on it fast enough, and instead lets the realization sit in his mind for a while.

it gets to the point where it feels as though he were preparing to distance himself, and even yanqing had asked if he was well. your visits with the Arbiter General also decrease, as he suddenly buried himself in his work even more than before.

he doesn't get to see you all that much afterwards, despite the lingering feeling of missing you filling his heart.

....that's until jing yuan hears word of a recent mara-struck incident involving the Sky-faring Commission; with your name listed among those heavily injured.

when he visits Bailu's clinic after yanqing urges him, jing yuan takes in the sight of you, littered in injuries from head to toe. your life, about to snap. he never even told you that you won; you did manage to steal his heart and for the first time in a long time, jing yuan allows himself to love.

so if, after three weeks later when you're finally healed up and ready to go, jing yuan brings you into his arms and drags you to let him sleep in your lap, you can't really blame him now, can you?

a/n: i love yearner hsr men,,, might do a pt 2 though. thinking of mayb ratio, jiaoqiu and f/heng next time...... sighs dreamily

@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.

[batfamsucker]

Dorks which include a guy who let's a nine year old fight crime with him and starts adopting orphans he doesnt know how to raise, another who ignores his kid because said kid has the dna of an enemy who he has sexual tensions with, another who....

I'm sorry idk.

the truth is, between the capes, broad shoulders, and armor, the Trinity really do look the most regal and dangerous out of almost all of the Justice League members. sure, there are others who look intimidating or powerful, but the three of them? they look royal.

[spideyjimin]

✨ my all time favourites BTS fics ✨

⟶ soo i've been really wanting to do this for a while already but i didn't really have the time to do it… soo here you have all the fics that I deeply loved & that i sometimes still read again 🫶🏼those fics are really amazing & thanks a lot to the writers for those masterpieces! 💞

sweet | ksj @oddinary4bts

⤷ Drabble of idol Jin coming back from the military and trying to sort out his situationship with the girl he left behind when he went into the military

idol!au, a bit of angst, fluff and smut

meraki | jjk @taegularities

⤷ Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.

e2l, grumpy!jk (+ photographer!jk) x sunshine!reader; fluff, smut

motherfuckin' train wreck | jjk @lovieku

⤷ when renowned fuckboy jeon jeongguk catches feelings, he loses his mind. only when it comes to you, though.

fwb au

new guy | knj @kithtaehyung

⤷ all you want to do is have a successful meeting after experiencing dwindling attendance, but the new guy is completing disrupting things... or is he?

smut ; university au ; enemies to lovers?

into it | pjm @xpeachesncream

⤷ helping your bestfriend out with his research project happens to come with more than what you bargained for. 

grad school au, idiots to lovers au, strangers to lovers au, angst, smut

bands | jjk @xpeachesncream

⤷ jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you. 

strip club/nightlife au, post grad au, fluff, angst, smut

lowkey | jjk @xpeachesncream

⤷ in order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, jeon jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the ways of dating.

college au, fake dating au, friends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

saudade | kth @chateautae

⤷ a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it’s time to find out why.

angst, smut, fluff (the holy trinity), idol!au, established relationship!au

100 km/hour | pjm @chateautae

⤷ what exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?

college!au, smut, pwp

fine line | jjk @soobibabe

⤷ Y/N, a 28-year-old dreamer whose plans for marriage and motherhood crumbled when her fiancé, Jae-on, decided to "see other people," leaving her adrift in a sea of unfulfilled expectations. Just as she’s about to face the cringe of attending his baby shower with his new girlfriend, her best friend Jungkook swoops in with a wild idea; why not embark on a platonic co-parenting adventure together?

romance

hazy hours | myg @borathae

⤷ part of the kinkoctober 2024

new relationship!AU, Idol!Yoongi

fxck a fxckboy | myg @yoongifis

⤷ where you sort of hooked up with one of the school’s biggest fuckboys but end up leaving him hanging and never contacting him because…well…why not? somehow the universe brought you two together and now you’re left with dealing with him because he apparently caught feelings for you.

smut, pwp

before we shatter | jjk @caramelkoo

⤷ dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.

established relationship, idol!jungkook

warm nighs & clear lines | jjk @awrkive

⤷ there haven't been a lot of people who have come into your life that became important to you – and you didn’t expect jeon jungkook to be one if it – not at all. but what started as a casual relationship turned into more than that, and now you find yourself deeply in love with him – and happily so.

or; your first "i love you" comes out completely wrong.

SMUT, fluff

all your fault | jhs @minisugakoobies

⤷ It’s all Hobi’s fault!

smut, drabble, PWP, established relationship, non-Idol!AU

muscle memory | knj @taegularities

⤷ the weather outside might be trying to chill you to your bones, but watching Namjoon's seething hot presence work out is enough to melt every little piece of you - and he sees the longing in your eyes all too soon.

establish relationship; some fluff, mostly smut

magic stick | jjk @badbtssmut

⤷ Jungkook is kinda sad because he has never been with a girl who could take him balls deep because of his size, reader doesn't believe him and she wants to see, but he tells her that he can't atm bc he's not hard. She is wearing this kinda halter top style with no bra so she looses the top and shows her tits to him and let's him touch them. After he's hard he shows her his dick and she says she's willing to try to take it all and she rides him into the sunset

[nosyrobin]

I NEED WONDER BOY READER AND HOW THEY MET DAMIAN AND JON!!

“Is that a girl?” “IM NOT A GIRL?!”

Summary: meeting the new addition to the duo, there’s already wild first impressions

Genre: fluff

Pair: Superson trio. (Supersons x Wonderboy!reader)

Damian and Jon were in the watchtower, practically there because their fathers had a meeting. But slowly the meeting felt longer, Damian and Jon sat across from each other. Jon was asleep while Damian was awake. He dared not to close his eyes and fall asleep to an “important” meeting with his father. After the adults were done talking, Diana looked over at the supersons. She smiled and points to the two boys, “Yknow, I have a child of my own. Not very social, but would make a good addition to these two.” Immediately Damian snapped his head at the Amazon woman.

Clark smiles warmly, picking up his son who is still knocked out. “Oh yeah! Y/N. I think so too.” Damian raised a brow. He didn’t want to seem curious about this “Y/N” kid he was hearing about. But learning that the child is half Amazon or fully Amazon. He smirked, another kid to join “his” team. Amazing, maybe he can show his father that he can be a true leader. As the others leave the watch tower. Bruce drives back to the bat cave as Damian looks ahead. “Father.” Bruce hummed for his son to continue. “…when will I meet wonder woman’s heir.” Bruce smirked. “Eager are we?” Damian scoffed, now looking out the window. “Not like that father. Its just..I wanna see how she is. I wanna see if she’s just like her mother.”

Bruce held his tongue. He knew whatever happens next would be a surprise for his son. “Yes, I can see your curiosity about Y/N’s personality. But I assure you that you would be shock at how she acts.”

And oh boy would the two supersons would be shocked. Now it’s a new day, Jon and Damian were in their costumes. Batman, aka Damian’s father, aka Bruce Wayne himself asked the boys to meet him in the batcave. They did as they walked inside to see the present trinity of heroes. Batman had his stoic face and Superman was smiling. Wonder Woman was standing in-front of someone who clearly had the same material outfit as her. But when the Amazon lady moved, that’s when the two boys caught the beautiful sight of the child of the Amazon. They looked exactly like Diana. But wore pants other than a skirt. And looked more masculine, but the face is what threw the super off. Along with the boy wonder. Jon pointed a finger at the kid who seemed a little older than them. 11 at most. “Is that a girl?”

……..

“IM NOT A GIRL?!” The Amazon yelled shocked. The adults let out chuckles, even the Batman let a small one out before regaining his face. Jon felt heat hit his face of embarrassment, Damian showed shock before he switched his expression. “Wow superboy. I thought you would use your x ray vision.” Jon, still flustered looked at his best friend. “X ray vision is not supposed to be used like that Robin!” The older Amazon male snickered, which brought the boy’s attention to the male. “Jeez, what a first impression.” Wonderboy says. He walks up, holding his hand out. “Sup, I’m wonderboy. Son of Wonder Woman. But honestly, I already know your identities. Doesn’t take a genius to know.” The boy says. Jon didn’t care about his identity being known as of the minute. His manners were taking over as he shook the Boy’s hand.

“I’m superboy, Jonathan Kent. But you can call me Jon when we aren’t superheroes!” He giddily says. The boy only nods, “Okay Jon. I’m Y/N Prince. But you probably heard my name already.” Y/N winked at the super, Jon felt heat hit his face again. His ears tinted red as he quickly pulls his hand back. Damian moved forward, his arms crossed looking at the boy in-front of him. “So, you know who I am?” His face hardens. Y/N snorted with a smirk, a smirk that lifted one side of his lips to his ear. “Course I do, Damian Wayne.” Y/N ruffled the hair of the tanned boy. Damian huffs and immediately pushes the male’s hands off his head. His ears are a little red but it soon calms down. “Funny how I’m the oldest of this trio. Was hoping you guys would be at least my exact age. But that’s okay.” The Amazon boy shrugged and started to float.

Jon’s eyes light up, immediately started to float off the ground. “You can fly?! I mean of course you can fly, you’re wonder woman’s son! Omg we can fly around and catch bad guys! Have flying races! There’s so much things!” Jon was so excited to have an another flying person like him. And his age range as well! Damian clicked his tongue in distaste. Damian wasn’t jealous that his best friend was practically flying around the bat with the new addition. The superson trio was so caught up knowing about each other that they didn’t know their parents had left.

As Damian stare at the flying boys, Y/N smiles down at the boy wonder. The Amazon male swooped down and lifted the bird in his arms. “Aww birdy don’t be sad you can’t fly.” Y/N coos playfully, Damian scoffs. He can feel his facade melt, Jon chuckles as the two flying boys flew around the bat cave. Damian was fully relaxed in the boy’s arms, leaning his head against the amazon’s chest.

“Boy. It’s time to go home.” The flying boys stopped their flying. Damian immediately realized his softened demeanor and pushed himself off the Amazon male. Landing on his feet like a cat, Bruce raised a brow under his cowl at the quick switch up. Damian could only just stand there as Clark and Diana came in the batcave. It seems their little meet up to hang out has ended. Jon frowns, “Awe man…” Jon looks at Y/N. “Think we can hangout tomorrow? I have these comic books I want to show you!” Y/N nods. “Sure man!” Clark and Diana fist bumped each other, smiling as Jon hugged the Amazon boy goodbye.

After the Amazons are gone, leaving just the supers and bats. Jon pulls his dad’s cape. “Could he come to our house? PLEASEE” Clark chuckled and patted his son. “Sure sport. Sure.” Damian had his arms crossed. Looking down, Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder. “Do you want Y/N to come over as well?” Damian stayed quiet before a curt nod was received. Bruce smiled. “Alright then, I’ll set up your play date after Jon’s.” The Kents were now gone, leaving the Waynes to their home.

Neither the less of tonight, Damian was interested in the Amazon male. His charming smile, his compassionate nature , his calming attitude that he oddly find..attractive. Jon felt the same way, his eyes were blown out wide. You would’ve seen a tail behind him wagging when he sees that the male was strong just like him. But of course Y/N is strong like him! Y/N’s an Amazon, he’s a kryptonian. Plus he loves his heart beat makes him calm. Hopefully he can get a playdate with him soon!

This trio would be legendary for the future of heroes.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Quid Pro Quo | Michael Gavey x fem!reader

Summary: After being ditched by her friend at the Trinity College Christmas Party, she finds herself enthralled with learning the language of Michael Gavey | Word Count: 3.8k~ | Warnings below the cut!

Part Two: Carpe Diem Part Three: Veni, Vidi, Vici

warnings: virgin michael, semi-public sexual conduct, oral sex (m receiving), heavy petting

If she has to listen to Professor Wardon swoon over Ancient Greek and how it ‘drove him to pursue his dreams in extending his passion to other students’, she thinks she might actually fall asleep.

She's in a good spot to do so, nestled between two other students, the one on her right seemingly just as bored as her, and conveniently hidden behind a tall, lanky first year, who sits straight, with his head perfectly obscuring hers as he fixes his posture regularly.

Several times throughout, she's checked her watch, and yet the second hand never seems to move an inch.

Professor Wardon is just about to go on a lovesick spiel about Homeric Greek when the lecture concludes with a heaved sigh from every student as they sling their hefty bags over their shoulders.

“Remember I want 2,500 words on Les Liaisons dangereuses in my pigeon hole by next Thursday, before your Christmas parties!” 

“Oh joy,” she sighs with a grin to the girl walking shoulder to shoulder beside her as they leave, feeling noticeably lighter knowing that that's their last lecture before Christmas break.

“Christ, you're telling me. I can't be arsed to even right my own name at the moment, nevermind read 18th century fucking French.”

She gives a snort in reply, “Merry Christmas to us, eh? Should do what the French do and have a revolution or something.”

“Yeah, eat our lecturers or something.”

“Alright, I wouldn't go that far.”

“Anyway, I'm off to T Library, see ya, have a good Christmas and don't do anything I wouldn't!”

She waves her off as her friend disappears, the cold air of the outside nipping at her skin that manages to sneak beneath her coat.

Oxford University is not what she imagined at all. She came here very much feeling like an outsider, like there'd been some sort of paperwork mistake and it was supposed to be someone else in her place. 

The imposter syndrome seemed difficult to shift, but she'd at least managed to make a couple of friends since starting in September.

Languages had always found her well, and seemingly the only thing she managed to actually understand. People were inconsistent, cruel and fickle. Languages, though they shifted and changed, were firmly rooted in reason and understanding. 

As sad as it sounded, conjugating verbs, vowel shifts and rare dialects were the one thing she found herself itching to discover more about. The idea that there was more to uncover seemed exciting and scary at the same time.

And Oxford University was the best place she could be to do that.

All that said, her eagerness to get involved with her studies had left her social life with much to be desired.

In the first two weeks of university alone, she'd gained one friend and lost a boyfriend. And while they were drifting apart anyway, it was still a relatively large blow to her self-esteem and her confidence to actually get out there, socialise and make the most of her first year of freedom.

The only friends she'd made were those on her course. Priya, who'd just abandoned her to stick her nose in books about the Great Vowel Shift, and Anya, who…to be honest, rarely left her room. Seeming more like a ghost than anything else.

It was a wonder she was still a student, with how often she missed classes.

What Anya does do best, is manage to somehow rise out of her pit to drag her to Christmas parties that aren't even run by their college.

Which is why she finds herself somehow at Trinity College campus, where she eyes several scantily clad women wearing revealing Santa costumes adorned with itchy tinsel.

Anya is the sort of girl who, well, every girl kind of wants to be. So much so she sort of wonders why she hangs around with her. She's pretty, fit and fucking clever. Her only downfall is her taste in men, so often being Oxford pretty boys.

So it is absolutely no surprise at all, when two jägerbombs in, Anya has somehow slipped into the arms of one aforementioned Oxford pretty boy, seeming in every way a clone of the previous, with the exception of the way he pairs his Ayia Nappa top with his low rise jeans and the only effort to conform to  theme, is a pair of plastic reindeer antlers on his head bobbling side to side.

She grimaces as she watches them suck each other's faces off in a dark corner of the room, ‘Stay Another Day’ by East 17 blaring with a cheap crackle through the speakers as she makes her way through the bodies to somewhere quiet.

She sighs, nursing the rum and coke Anya had sloppily poured her in one hand as she closes the door behind her, shutting out the drunken squeals and cheers for the peace of a quiet common room.

It's still decorated, she notes, but empty. Maybe she could lurk here until Anya is done, if she ever will be.

The deep clack of a pool ball being sucked into a socket makes her jump, realising perhaps that she was not actually alone, as she'd previously thought.

The cool light hung above the battered pool table illuminates his deep red jumper, and the first thing she sees is the way he leans on one leg, standing straight as if he was imitating the rigid pool cue leant before him. The yellow lined detailing around the cuffs highlights his small wrists and big hands that stretch from it as he rubs blue chalk onto the tip.

Her eyes trail up the back of his neck, past the lazy waves of dark blonde hair, clearly due a trim at some point, and to his face, even from this angle able to see how his features sit. With a sharp nose and jawline, and black skinny glasses perched above his cheekbones.

She almost laughs at the way he's almost as tall as the light that illuminates the table, half-thinking that she might never have seen such a strange and yet interesting looking guy.

“Didn't fancy the party?” she finally says, alerting him to her presence.

She doesn't quite expect the way the light bounces off his sharp features, sinking his blue eyes in shadow as his head turns to her with an expression of boredom.

“Not particularly, no.” 

His voice is lighter than she thought it would be and part of her wonders if he's putting it on. He presses his glasses further up his nose before assessing his next shot, stalking around the table.

“Why's that?”

This time, when he answers, he doesn't look at her. He simply leans down, and aims.

“Not. Fucking. Invited,” he replies bitterly, missing a yellow, “that's why.”

Her fingertips moisten against the glass as the ice begins to melt, but she pays it no mind.

“So you're lurking about in here instead.”

He plays with the cue in one hand, barely sparing a second glance, a bitter, quiet laugh escaping him.

He misses another red before he heaves a sigh, straightening to look at her again.

“You here alone as well?” he asks dispassionately.

She smiles lazily and shrugs.

“My mate is…a bit preoccupied, if you know what I mean,” she replies, taking an awkward sip of the now watered down drink, “like you, I don't really think these are my thing either.”

He seems to consider her statement for a moment.

“Why come then?”

She shrugs again, “trying to be sociable.”

“With those vapid cunts? Good luck getting any intelligent conversation out of them.”

She watches as he picks up the blue chalk again, applying more when he doesn't even need it in sort of a nervous gesture, his blue eyes averted and pretending to assess his next move.

There's something about him. How judgemental he is and how he forms his words. Perhaps she hadn't expected this sort of guy to be so outwardly honest with his opinions, and for the most part, she can't say she disagrees with the message, just the way in which he said it.

“Can I play?” She asks, leaning over to put her drink down.

“What are you reading?” He asks so suddenly, and out of context, that she does a double take.

She raises her eyebrows, smiling, “Does my answer depend on if I get to play or not?”

There's no answer from him. Shocker of the century.

“Modern Languages.”

“Fucking hell,” he groans.

She's a bit too happy and dizzy on rum to get defensive.

“Is that one of those subjects that sounds way less interesting than it actually ends up being?”

She gives a breathy laugh, “just like languages.”

He hums, as if the answer didn't impress him, “more of a science and numbers man myself, obviously.”

For a moment, it's lost on her why it's obvious.

He takes a sip of his, no doubt, stale beer, wetting his lips after, “Your name is?”

She narrows her eyes teasingly, smiling as she leans against the table, “quid pro quo.”

She enjoys the brief confusion on his face, before he realises what she's said.

“Okay, okay, Michael.”

She smiles, “See? You know what that meant. Who says you're not a languages man?”

It's the first time he seems to duck his head, hiding a blush she's barely able to see.

“I don’t think the Ancient Roman idea of fair exchange warrants the title of ‘languages man’.” 

The blue chalk comes off on his hands as he fiddles nervously with it.

“So, am I bestowed the privilege of playing?”

He raises his head, and she can tell he's trying his damndest to not let a little beer-induced smile pass his lips.

“I suppose I could allow you to embarrass yourself in front of me for a bit, if you insist. We'll have to share a cue though.”

She doesn't have the heart to tell him her uncle was a pool player, and so by extension, has played pool for most of her upbringing. Rather, he finds out himself when she pots three yellows in a row.

It's either the alcohol or pity that kicks in when she misses the fourth, holding the cue for him to take.

“You being good at pool wasn't on my bingo card,” he mutters with some nervous teasing in his voice.

They go back and forth for a bit, missing some, potting some, with interspersed conversation between. 

“Thought you might have been a Norman-no -mates, like me,” he says quietly as he watches her assess her next shot. Bending to aim.

“You're not far off,” she replies, “first fortnight I was down a boyfriend. Since then, I've only been up two friends and one of them is in the other room  having ditched me for the shag of a lifetime.”

She doesn't see it until after she takes the shot, the way his eyes flit back to hers quickly as she rights herself to stand.

Was he checking me out?

As if he was lagging, he only laughs now at what she's said.

“What about you?” She asks, “no girls, or boys, on the scene?”

He blushes a lot when she asks that. And she can't help the fluttering in her chest she feels that someone might find her attractive.

“Can’t say there is.”

She stands close, passing the cue to him, electricity warming her fingertips as she grazes his.

“And why not?”

He scoffs bitterly, “have you seen me?” he mutters, wandering around the table, suddenly unable to shake the feeling of her gaze, “Not too many girls out there looking for the stereotypical nerdy math boy, really.”

“Hm,” she hums, “how unfortunate for them.”

He sinks a red, picking at his red jumper.

“Yeah, they're clearly missing out, huh?”

The bitter and self-deprecating tone of his voice makes her heart sink a bit. He's not a bad looking guy, she thinks. His style, glasses, hair, she would almost say look actually quite cute.

Maybe that's the thing he doesn't like.

“No interest? Or is maths the only one for you?”

He misses the next shot and sighs, holding the cue for her to take, “clearly, the only one I need.”

She steps close to retrieve, taking her time, looking up at him as she does. At this proximity, Michael sucks in a breath quietly, his lips, which she can't say she'd noticed until right this moment, parting and his Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes flit rapidly down her.

A warmth swirls in her gut at that.

She circles the table, “what about in the past?” 

He leans against the other side, his hand on the cushion, long fingers splayed on the green fabric. She has to shake her head to break her own trance.

“Can’t say my love life has exactly been a roaring success, honestly.”

The way he says it.

She wouldn't be surprised if he was…

Oh.

“So what? You're focussed on your studies?”

She misses. Too set on the conversation rather than the game.

He gives a mirthless laugh, “Sure.”

She rounds the table, holding the cue for him to take, but when he reaches for it, she pulls back with a smirk.

“So we've established you're not one for languages,” she starts, and Michael furrows his brows in confusion, “have you ever really asked for what you want? Ever?”

He seems to miss what she's trying to say.

“Have you been with a girl?”

At that, his eyes widen slightly, a blush crawling up his neck to the tips of his ears, cheeks near matching his shirt.

She knows she has her answer.

“Well…I…no, I haven't…”

At chest height, she can see the way his breathing elevates.

“And, hypothetically, if a girl expressed interest. What would you say?”

His lips part for a good few seconds before he gives a reply, “I’d…I um…I guess it depends who…”

It's like he's afraid she'll make fun of him for it. 

“What about, if it was me?” She asks, her voice lowering as she reaches out to pick some lint off his jumper, like it's the most normal thing in the world. His body goes all rigid as she does.

This isn't normal in his world.

Michael swallows thickly, “you're not taking the Mick out of me, are you?”

She shakes her head, “I just want you to feel comfortable asking for what you want.”

For someone who had so often thought about it, now when faced with the situation, he feels as if he doesn't know what to do or say.

She's still stood with the cue in one hand, close enough so that when she shifts her weight from foot to foot, her knee grazes his leg. It's interesting to watch him think so deeply about it. Convinced he's probably never thought of anything so much in his life.

“What if what I want is…you?”

The tension deepens like the tone and volume of his voice. And without effort, a smile finds its way to her face when she looks at his expression. He's frozen stiff, for once, not knowing what to say.

So nothing shocks her more when he grabs the pool cue as a means of pulling her to him, and he has to duck considerably to press his lips clumsily to hers. He's eager, that much is true, but it's clear he's inexperienced. But instead of causing discomfort, she thinks it's quite endearing.

The pool cue clangs to the floor as she braces her hands on his shoulders and chest, guiding his lips with her own in a slower, more careful movement. She feels the edge of the pool table bite into her lower back when he presses her against it, clearly excited, if the hardness that's flush to her stomach is anything to go by.

The hands she had been staring at not half an hour ago are bruising as they trace her waist and hips, with a grip tight enough to tell her exactly how much he's enjoying the experience.

For a moment, they're not in a common room alone, against a pool table, with ‘Cheetah-licious Christmas’ playing in the room over, the bass of which rumbles through the floor and into their chests.

The kiss lasts a long while, and she has a feeling he wants to savour it as if it's the last time he will ever be able to do it. 

One of her hands snakes its way to the back of his head, fingers gripping at his hair to pull him closer as either of them tilt to aid more contact between them. And at the little amount of tugging, Michael whines into her mouth, prompting him to pull away.

He looks halfway between mortified and pleased, his glasses having skewed to one side with the eagerness of what they'd done. And she laughs a bit, reaching up to fix them, which seems to make the mortification fade somewhat from his face.

Michael looks down between them, where his obvious erection is pressed to her, and pulls away slightly with a scarlet blush.

“Shit - sorry-”

“It's fine,” she reassures, “no need to be embarrassed.”

The words alone would be enough, if her hand hadn't snaked between their bodies to brush her palm over him. And if it were possible, his flush spreads to his neck, words failing him once more.

Her eyes flicker up to his, their lips all kiss-bruised and swollen.

“If you don't want to-”

“No, no, I want to…” he says, immediately embarrassed about how quick it was.

She smiles, one hand palming him through his jeans and the other trailing up his chest, “Sit down.”

He backs up to sit on a nearby sofa, watching with a kind of adoration as she makes space between his legs, her eyes glimmering at him as she slowly undoes his belt.

“If at any time, you need to stop, tell me.”

He gives a nervous laugh, his stomach muscles tightening, wondering probably if this is really happening to him, “Not sure I will want to…”

She smiles reassuringly, watching as his lips part as she palms him through his boxers, trying to suppress how impressed she is with his size.

It's always the skinny white guys.

“Well, the offer's there.” She smirks, pulling him from his boxers, Michael gives a suffered breath, feeling her touch on him and also her breath so close. He almost feels dizzy. The thought of this happening in this situation, with a party going on next door, is dangerous and exciting in equal measure.

She knows he has very limited experience, so decides not to tease him too much.

Michael gasps softly as she licks at the base of him, drawing a wet line with her tongue along the vein underneath, all the way to the tip. She concentrates her efforts slightly on the sensitive spot there before closing her mouth over the head of his cock, sucking gently.

She feels the way his thighs tense, and the blue disappearing as he closes his eyes. His fists are tight beside him, knuckles white, like he doesn't know if he should touch her or not. All he knows right now is that this feeling is brand new, and the sensation is so much already.

She pulls herself from him to run her tongue over his length, one hand moving to his hand, to encourage him. His blue eyes crack open just a bit, to understand what she's trying to tell him.

And she fights the urge to smile as his longer fingers swipe across her temple into her hair, his touch tender, soft and unsure as he holds her by it. 

Her lips wrap around him once more, pushing him further into her mouth, taking him steadily and slowly at first. Michael's hips move barely, chasing the friction that he's getting on his cock when she bobs her head on him and hollows her cheeks.

He watches with parted lips and warm cheeks, moving her hair away so he can watch himself disappear into her mouth over and over. Her hand massages the rest of him, giving him two unique sensations in one, something that earns her a deep, throaty moan.

When her eyes open to look at him, he thinks his heart stops in his chest for a split second. He closes his eyes, not able to bear the way she looks with his cock in her mouth if she looks right at him, feeling that if he did any longer he wouldn't last.

The sounds he emits don't stop there as she increases her pace on him, pressing her tongue to the underside of him and taking him deeper into her throat, humming around him at the heady scent of his skin.

It's only when she takes him as far as he will go, working hard to control her gag reflex that he gives the first genuine buck of his hips, tightening in her hair and a far-too-loud moan. If anyone in the next room were quiet and paying attention, they'd likely know exactly what was going on.

“Fuck-”

It only serves to spur her on as she pulls back, moving in a more steady, quick rhythm, that she is sure Michael is loving judging by the rate of his moans and the way he chokes out his words.

His stomach clenches and unclenches, his high creeping up on him as her mouth tightens around his length. 

“Shit - you need to - I'm gonna -” he chokes, weakly tugging her hair in an effort to pull her mouth off him before he cums.

If she didn't have his cock in her mouth she'd smile.

Her hand squeezes the base of him, and Michael throws his head back slightly, a long shuddered and choked moan reverberating through his chest. She swears she feels his thighs shake as she stills, warm ropes of his cum taste musky at the back of her throat.

His loud moan is followed quickly by more softer ones as her throat contracts to swallow as much as she can, briefly increasing the tension and friction around his sensitive length.

When she pulls off him with a pleased sigh, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Michael sits up slightly, having to gather his breath.

“Fucking hell…”

She takes it as a compliment and rises to her feet, her hands smoothing her skirt back down.

And she squeaks in delight as Michael quickly tucks himself away, barely doing up his jeans buttons before backing her up to the pool table again, kissing her fervently.

“What about you…do I…” he starts when he breaks away, panting softly. She smiles at the notion but shakes her head. This experience was for him alone.

“Not right now, don't feel inclined to,” she reassured, her hands on his chest, feeling the way his heart is beating rapidly beneath it.

“Right now?” he asks with a quiet, unsure tone, “does that mean…there's gonna be a next time?”

His tone is careful, and yet, she is able to detect something like desire there. An excitement for more, without seeming too eager so that he's not let down if she says no. Something that makes it clear he is 100% on board.

She bites back a grin.

“Quid Pro Quo, Michael.”

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[hansolen]

one more love song?

pairing ⇾ luke castellan x hades’ daughter reader (gendered stuff isn’t mentioned anywhere in the post so it can be read as gn)

word count ⇾ 3k

summary ⇾ luke is a simp, tries to confess, you guys share earphones and sit near the lake at night. the moon loves you 🫶

author’s note ⇾ so most of this is just happened to be written as luke admiring the reader rather than what i was actually going to go for, but i’m really happy with how it turned out :) hope you enjoy it as well 💌 wrote this all in one setting. when inspo hits.. it hits like a truck 🚛 this one is for my quiet people, and maybe a little self indulgent. guilty as charged your honour. no use of y/n.

you had a thing for luke castellan, and he had a thing for you too. it was no secret to anyone. but none of the other campers understood why you both preferred to dance around each other’s feelings rather than addressing them. even though everyone could feel the immense tension you both carried around whenever you were near each other, no one chose to mention it. it would be like taking a gun and pointing the muzzle right at ones own head — it was a death sentence really, hearing you both deny it. so they all just went along with ignoring it like you both pretended to do.

you were the daughter of hades, the king of the underworld and part of the trinity. that definitely added a little intimidation to your already mysterious aura. luke on the other hand was a possessive guy, even if he didn’t show it. sure, he was extremely confident, and even a little egotistical - yes, but all for the right reasons of course (as per him). but he was possessive nonetheless. that’s why it killed him inside each day that he couldn’t call you his, and himself as yours.

he really didn’t like anyone else approaching you with any unwanted intentions. though, don't get him wrong, he's well aware that you could protect yourself. hell, you could protect the entire camp just by yourself alone, but still — he felt a pang of jealously whenever some apollo’s kid talked with you for too long. or when your discussions with some guy from the hephaestus’ cabin were too long. he knew that you guys were just discussing your plans for some of their inventions and how you could help by designing their ideas into structural sketches. afterall, you were good with sketches, a hobby of yours, those from cabin 9 made sure to utilise to their fullest. even though he knew it all, he still felt some unwanted feelings swirl inside him.

he wanted to confess to you, oh he wanted to do that so badly. but he just didn't know how to.. you didn't seem the kind who’d like the usual route. for the sake of olympus itself - you didn’t even send him any signs, other than meeting back his longing gaze with just as much passion. he knew there had to be something between you two. there’s no way it could be all in his head.

but you — you never tried to make the first move, shit, you didn’t make any moves at all. and luke knows he’s a confident guy, he knows he’s amazing and all that glory speech he gives around to the new comers but oh you. you just make him rethink it all. he doesn’t know how to act around you - he feels so different around you.

as if you put some kind of spell on him that makes him loose this carefully handcrafted personality, his façade. and he's back to being the kid he was - just trying to prove himself somehow in some way. but at least you never abandoned him.. nor did you ever make him feel unwanted. unlike his.. his dad. he doesn’t need to impress you, you’ve made that clear with your actions. but still he - he really wants to.

𓇚

he recalls back when you still pretended to be unclaimed and stayed at the hermes cabin. though later on (like a whole month later) everyone found out that you knew your dad was hades and you shifted to the newly made hades cabin. it happened in such a funny manner where you stated it to the suprised chiron like it was just another fun fact about you. totally not some very critical and important information. camp half-blood having a kid of one of the three and not just any but of hades, who was always so adamant on not sending his kids to camp that the gods had an entire incident regarding it. but here you were.

anyway that’s not the point. he just really liked you and had felt a pull towards you since the beginning. he observed you from afar during your first few weeks at camp. when it was your third week at camp and you had developed the constant habit of staying up every night and sneaking out. he followed, ofcourse he was just being a good head counselor. afterall till you were in the hermes cabin you were someone he had to make sure followed the rules or whatever. he didn’t care for that much, he just wanted to know what you were always up to.

you always hid away by the time he followed you out. he had made sure that this week, this day, he’d finally follow you without you hiding away in the shadows. of course you weren’t dumb either. you could feel another shadow added to the ones you were controlling, and you felt like having a little fun with the castellan boy. so you let him follow you. (and luke found out about that fact weeks later, and safe to say he was annoyed that he wasn’t slick enough. though he got back on you, he showed you just how smooth he could be during sword fighting practice. spoiler: by the end of the match you were under him with a sword pressed on your neck and his smirk making you feel things.)

back to what happened on your third week at camp - as he followed you he realised you were headed towards the lake. oh so this was your favourite spot. he looked at you from afar, you looked breathtaking.

the moonlight shined on your figure sitting by the lake. you were probably listening to some music, since you had your earphones in.

he held his breath, he wanted to carve this scene in his memory forever. you truly looked like a goddess, the serene view and a serene beauty (you). a perfect combination indeed.

after giving himself some pep talk mentally and encouraging himself to actually go to you, he finally did. and oh boy was he glad he did - because that was the start of your friendship, and something more.

he still fondly remembers how you smiled when he finally came and sat beside you.

“finally came out of your hiding spot, castellan?” you said in a light tone. “you knew?” he asked suprised, but not really. “i know everything that goes in the shadows.” you said and smiled while taking off one earphone and handing it out to him. he took it gratefully.

that day you shared an earphone with him and in return took a piece of his heart with you.

that was the beginning of whatever the hell was going on between you and luke castellan. he understood later on what you had meant by the shadows comment when a week later you had casually revealed who your father was and shifted cabins, much to luke’s displeasure.

but you guys remained friends nonetheless and continued to keep each other company on moonlit nights.

𓇚

he still remembers when you first came to camp. you were so eerily quiet. your presence drew him to you like a moth to a flame. your eyes felt like they held galaxies and whenever you met his gaze he felt his heart could explode. though you didn't smile often, but oh god’s when you did grin at some stupid lame joke he made, or when something silly happened, he just found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with you.

though he notices. he notices how you keep your smiles to yourself and put a hand over your mouth whenever you do laugh. the reason? he truly doesn’t understand. because why in the world would you do that? you’re the most gorgeous being to have graced this earth, why would you not let him get addicted to your smiles and the sound of your melodious laughter which is sweet like nectar and has the warmth of ambrosia. as he knew it was a rare sight, he made sure to capture the memory to replay it in his head whenever he misses you.

you're so beautiful to him and your presence is so comforting. the deathly touch your aura carries has makes it all the more breathtaking. oh he's in it bad. he knows it.

𓇚

both your secret meet ups began increasing as weeks went by. you both talked about everything under the sun (or the moon, in your case). and even though you weren’t much of a talker when you were in groups during the day, luke felt glad that atleast when you were with him you spoke your heart out.

you made him feel so much at ease. even with all his responsibilities at camp and his plans.. and everything else that eats up his soul — in moments such as these, he feels like just another teenage boy. not the kid who got abandoned by his parents, not the teenager who had to protect his friends and had to prove something to the gods, not the head counselor and the greatest swordsman to have been in 300 hundred years, but just- just another teenage boy, a boy in love. oh he loved you. so much.

and that's why he decided he was finally going to confess to you tonight. he was going to set up a beautiful moment and hold your hand while looking in your eyes and confess how much he adores you and finally ask you to be his.

he felt a little nervous, which is so unlike him. c’mon, he has fought innumerable monsters and survived so many deathly quests, how is finally telling you what he’s been wanting to since forever making him more nervous than either of those situations? oh the things you do to him..

when he reached there you were already sitting near the lake at your favourite spot. as soon as he came closer, you turned your head towards him with a soft smile and said, “hey you” “hey me” he replied. he doesn’t miss the way you put an automatic smile on his face, as he sits beside you. you both sit in comfortable silence, your bodies making contact from the shoulders. neither of you move away, finding comfort in one another’s presence and touch.

being a demigod was.. anything but a normal experience to say the least. but finding someone who makes you feel.. more closer to the human part of yourself was something not everyone could find. but you both were so glad you did with one another.

as moments passed by, luke felt you lean your head on his shoulder. he relaxed into your touch as he looked down at your face to find your eyes closed. he knew you weren’t sleeping, just resting. he found himself forming a small smile as he looked at you.

then he started, “you know, i wanted to tell you something today.” you hummed in response waiting for him to continue. “i..” he felt his throat dry up. it’s always so easy to talk to you, so why is it that right now he feels unable to form words? your presence is always so calm and serene so why does his heart feel like it’s going a million miles per hour?

“hey.. hey look at me” you said in your calm voice as you softly held his face. he met your eyes, and oh he swears he could just get lost in the galaxy that lays within your eyes. you look at him with you sweet smile and say, “you can tell me anything, you know?” “i know.” his reply is almost immediate. you just smile at that “then go on”.

he closes his eyes to compose himself. he knows that he doesn’t need to pretend with you. but he also wants to tell you everything he feels for you and how you’ve taken all over his body, mind and soul. but he can’t formulate them into words. he just— “i love you too castellan.” “what” “what? you were trying to confess right? i only helped you.” you said smiling softly at him. “i.. well i..” he was dumbfounded. he had thought of so many ways this would probably go and the many ways he could say it but you.. you said it first.

“is that a pout?” you ask with a giggle. he feigns offense, “i do not pout.” “oh that was definitely a pout.” you teased. “it wasn't.” “oh it so was.” he rolls his eyes. “whatever. i just wanted to make it romantic or something i don't know. i mean i even got you a cassette tape with songs i dedicated to you and—” “you dedicated songs to me? and got them in a cassette tape? how even- when did you get the time to get that done? did you go out of camp for-” you said suprise clear in your voice but he interrupted you. “well obviously i dedicate songs to you infact they were so many that i had to choose the best of the best. and how i got the cassette and the player is just part of the trade secrets, darling.” he winked. and you just giggled and kissed him.

luke had imagined kissing you before, but it was never as close to the real deal. he was addicted to say the least. your lips tasted so sweet and felt so soft. for being the kid with the aura of death, you sure brought back life to him.

by now you were on his lap with his arms wrapped around you. you both were just sitting on the grass and taking in each other's presence and feeling peaceful with how close your hearts were.

slowly you took out your earphones from your pocket and gave him one wire. “so, one more love song?”

© hansolen do not repost, translate and post anywhere else.

author's note ⇾ aand that's the end haha. hope you liked it <3 this is my first fic ever like everr and i didn't even think i’d be able to write something that i would actually wanna post, but something in me lit up when i saw my favourite childhood book series was finally getting the adaptation it deserved and then this came out of it <3 would love to know your thoughts on it.

[wongyuseokie]

Teardrops On My Guitar | h.j.s

Summary: You loved him, but he was your best friend. While he sometimes blurred the lines, he never saw you more than that. Since he was your best friend and you were so in love, you’d break yourself apart for him. You watched him fall in love with everyone, but you only question for how long? ☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut | ♥ completed works

Word Count: 19,760 words

Pairings: Joshua Hong x Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Unrequited Love AU! (don’t say I didn’t warn you; this really won’t be a nice one). Slice of Life AU! Fluff, Angst, Smut (the holy trinity, if you will) 

Content Warnings: Yelling, swearing, crying, arguments, toxic coping mechanisms, smut, unprotected sex (don’t do this). Smut Warnings: Fingering, oral (male and female receiving). multiple orgasms, squirting, hand jobs. Body insecurities, bitchy drama from other girls (let's lift each other up). Slut-shaming.  Authors Note 1: I think All Too Well was painful for me to write because that was the story about how a relationship that I deemed perfect fell apart, but this one hurts me more because this is a story I hate reliving so much. After all, this is the story of how I fell in love with my best friend and how I never told him (sort of), but now I had to watch him fall in love with everyone but me. This story is a letter to myself back then. I wish I loved myself more back then. 

Author’s Note 2: This is a Seventeen rewrite of an old fic of mine, so if it looks familiar, that’s why hehe.  Authors Note 3: Thank you so much to the following people for reading this for me @shuadotcom @gyuwoncheol @okiedokrie @wonuvs

© wongyuseokie 2024. All rights reserved.

High school sucked. It was a universal truth. 

But you felt like some days it sucked for you more than it did for others. You felt awkward, you didn’t make friends easily – if ever. You basically had just two friends, while every morning on the school bus, you’d hear chatter about someone getting drunk or kissing someone at a party. 

You would have to take a deep breath and pretend you didn’t care. But you didn’t even have enough friends to hold a party, let alone be invited to one. Hell, you couldn’t remember the last time you partied.

You even celebrated your birthday with your parents last year, entering the fifteenth year of your life in your bedroom, watching movies and spending time with your parents. And you didn’t really mind it. You just wished you had someone who wanted to spend time with you. 

The worst thing was hearing about other girls your age having lavish birthdays, having their first kiss, and whatnot made you realise that you had no experience of any of that. This sucked completely,considering that everything felt like a competition in high school. 

Who could get their first kiss before anyone else? Who could lose their virginity first? Forget virginity; you had never even kissed a guy. A proper kiss. Not a stupid peck, but an adequate kiss – one of those you saw in movies. 

You were convinced that the only way you’d ever get your first kiss would be if you were granted a magical makeover where the universe would give you a new face, a slimmer body, and more proportionate features. 

Your mother said you were pretty, but what mother wouldn’t? Some stupid boys in your high school took it upon themselves to tell you throughout your entire middle school years how undesirable you were. They would pretend that their eyes burnt if they saw you and they acted like you were Medusa. In some ways, you could relate. You, too, felt like you had a curse that wasn’t your fault either. You tried all the beauty hacks, scrubbing your face with homemade sugar scrubs and buying concealers that were too light to wear, all because you just wanted to be pretty. 

Feel a little worthy. 

Now that you were older, you knew their hurtful words were untrue. And no, you didn’t suddenly have an epiphany and start believing you were a beauty queen, but you knew not to take such awful comments to heart. Yet, you couldn’t help how they’d sometimes seep into your mind. 

However, as you stood outside your dorm room as a fresher at university, you couldn’t help but wish this was your chance to begin again. You had a new start; no one here knew you from high school; you weren’t back in your small town; you were in the city. You could start over. 

Your bullies, past, and insecurities didn’t follow you here, so maybe this would be the time you’d finally be able to restart. Get a new lease on life.

“Oof, sorry,” a voice apologised as its owner bumped into you, making you look up from the floor. You were met with dark brown eyes filled with kindness, compassion, and, at this moment, regret for bumping into you. 

You looked away from the stranger’s eyes to take him in. He was tall and devastatingly handsome, with a giant grin adorning his handsome face, and you immediately felt like you were thrown back into high school. Guys like him would either mock your appearance or ignore you, pretend you were a wallflower. 

Girls like you didn’t get guys like him. 

You immediately looked to the ground and mumbled an apology. 

“Hey, what are you apologising for? I bumped into you, and I bumped into my flatmate. Nice to meet you. I’m Joshua!” The handsome man introduced himself, holding his hand to you, and you accepted it gingerly as you shook it. 

“What’s your name?” Joshua asked. 

“Y/N,” you replied. 

“Well, I’m excited for fresher’s week! I think it’s so cool that we get to live in co-ed living spaces and get to be adults. I’m also glad that our rooms both have an ensuite, thank fuck. Not the biggest fan of sharing bathrooms,” Joshua rambled, then laughed when he saw your confused expression. 

“Sorry, oversharing with my neighbour within a second of bumping into you isn’t the best first impression, is it?” Joshua joked, and you shrugged, shooting him a smile. 

“Okay, well, I got to finish moving in, but will you be coming across the hall for the freshers’ party? I have a couple of friends I’m going with, but I’d love for you to join us! Unless you already have plans?” Joshua asked.

You shook your head, stunned. Was this reality? 

Someone willingly invited you somewhere, not out of force or school obligation but because they wanted to ask you. 

“I’d like that,” you finally answered, making Joshua smile.

“Well, Y/N, apparently freshers have been told to wear comfy footwear, whatever that means, but how about I knock at your door at nine, and we can leave together?” Joshua offered, and you nodded as you hurried back into your room, slamming the door behind you. 

You were beyond confused. You had plenty of outfits to choose from, but the one time you wore a skirt to your high school disco, you heard a few comments calling you a try-hard and an attention seeker, so you went home and threw the skirt into the back of your closet never to be seen again. And now, that skirt was in your hands again, reminding you of crappy memories and the fact it was impractical as it had no pockets. 

You decided to wear jeans instead. Jeans were a safe option. You chose a black, strappy top with some sequins and threw on a black leather jacket. 

The outfit was inspired by several hours of Pinterest-related shopping you did before arriving at university. You wanted a fresh start, which also meant fresh outfits. You wanted everything to be new. 

You grabbed your white striped Converse and put them outside, on the floor next to the foot of your university bed, a modest single. You also decided to shower, shave and exfoliate. You didn’t think Joshua would find you remotely attractive, but you wanted to at least feel somewhat pretty. 

A couple of hours later, you were putting on your silver hoops when you heard a knock on your door. 

“It’s open,” you said and smiled at Joshua as he walked into your room in tight-fitted jeans and a loose black tee tucked in and completed with a black belt. 

“You look nice,” Joshua complimented.

You hissed as you poked your ear with your earring at his compliment. “Ouch!” you yelped.

Joshua’s eyes widened as he approached you, taking the earring out of your hand and helping you to put it on. “Did I startle you or something?” he asked, his voice too close to you, breath fanning over your neck. 

“I just… I don’t get compliments, so yeah, I guess you did,” you admitted, feeling stupid for admitting something like that to a perfect stranger. He would probably think you were weird now and walk away. 

“Well, that’s a shame. You deserve plenty,” Joshua said genuinely as he squeezed your shoulder, smiling widely at you.

And for the first time in so long, you felt like there was hope for your heart, and for you to find and experience everything you never got to in high school. 

The void in your heart… maybe Joshua could be one who could fill it. 

“Oh, Y/N, by the way! They’re having a flat party. Everyone said that the freshers’ party is usually kind of boring and that nothing much happens. They were talking about things like safe sex, and I’m sure we’re all tired of that conversation from high school,” Joshua joked as you two walked out of your shared dorm and across the hall where you stood as he informed you of the flat party. 

“How many people will be there, though?” you asked, feeling insecurity and fear flood your system. You didn’t want a ton of eyes on you in your outfit. You didn’t want to hear the whispers that would inevitably make you curl up and cry into your pillow all night. 

“I think twenty, give or take. It’ll be our flat and the one across ours,” Joshua replied, and you pondered over the thought of meeting nineteen new people – people who could judge, mock and make fun of you. 

“Hey, you’re my next-door neighbour—well, our doors are opposite one another—you are now my friend, and I’ll keep you protected. If anyone tries shit, I’ll smack them,” Joshua vowed, making you giggle. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked, smiling as he watched you giggle. 

“I just tried to imagine you even trying to beat someone up,” you replied, wiping the tears of laughter that collected in your eyes, making Joshua laugh at you. 

“Oh, but I am fiercely loyal. Trust me, when it comes to protecting those I care about, I’ll fight,” Joshua said seriously. 

You nodded, following him across the hall to the other flat as you two walked into the kitchen, where drinks were being poured, and you could tell several people were already quite drunk. You swore you saw a couple exchange a few kisses. 

“Hi, we’re from flat 2A! Our flatmates told us about the party!” Joshua introduced himself, and one of the guys, who introduced himself as Jeonghan, approached you and Joshua. 

“Well, 2A, welcome to flat 2B! We do have alcohol to spare, but if you want more, you’ll have to bring your own,” Jeonghan explained, the smile never leaving his face, and Joshua nodded as he brandished a bottle of soju from his coat pocket. 

“I’ve got us sorted,” Joshua grinned, and Jeonghan smiled again as he welcomed you two. 

“Y/N, have a seat next to me. We 2A’s need to stick together,” Joshua joked as he guided you to the black couches, where he helped introduce you to the other students. You exchanged several words with Nia and felt she could be a good friend. She had kind eyes and a soft smile, something you were never used to ever seeing. 

“Alright, I’m bored. Can we play a drinking game? It’s the easiest way to get to know one another,” another girl, whose name you couldn’t recall, complained, immediately grinning when everyone agreed. 

You could see she had no actual malice. She just wanted to party. Not everyone you’d meet in life would be your high school bully. This was something you’d have to remind yourself of during every interaction. 

“Okay, what do you want to play, Nia?” Jeonghan asked as he joined her.

“Truth or dare! But take a shot if you want to skip the dare or truth?” Nia suggested.

Everyone nodded–including you, even if your heart beat wildly in your chest. What if someone asked you something like if you were a virgin? You’d lie, but the stammering would give it away. Then again, you had been a wallflower all your life. No one would ever pick you, you convinced yourself as you took a large sip of Jeonghan’s concoction. 

It tasted more like he poured pure alcohol in and sprinkled in some diet coke to mask the fact he did not know how to mix a damn drink, but it was a drink you were thankful for. It gave you a nice buzz, lowering your inhibitions and fears. 

“Okay,” Jeonghan said after three rounds. Everyone had a pretty good buzz, and the questions and dares were getting more unfiltered and scandalous with each game. “Joshua, I dare you to give Y/N a peck on the lips,” Jeonghan said smugly, making you gulp and swallow the remainder of your drink. 

As you sighed, you didn’t think the party would come to this, but you realised you were fooling yourself. People would always care about this, and you didn’t fancy being a laughingstock. 

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going?” Jeonghan asked, genuine concern lacing his voice. Joshua stood up, shooting Jeonghan a slight glare. 

“I just, uh, want to go to bed; you know the alcohol has hit me,” you mumbled quickly as you nearly ran out of the flat and straight back to yours. You rushed into your room, taking a seat on your bed as you took deep breaths. 

It was okay; he wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow, and you’d avoid it if needed. 

“You should lock your door, you know,” Joshua’s voice startled you as you stood up from your bed at his sudden presence. 

“Can I talk to you?” he asked, and you nodded, knowing there was nowhere to run. 

Then again, there was that large window… But if you leapt out of it, you’d fall into a bush of poison ivy, so you decided to take the scarier option of engaging in conversation. 

“I’m sorry if Jeonghan went too far with that dare,” Joshua apologised as he sat down on your bed, and you sighed, shaking your head, joining him. 

“No, it’s just… I didn’t want to make you feel repulsed by doing something you didn’t want to do,” you admitted.

Joshua turned to face you. “That’s the last thing I’d feel if I kissed you. You’re so beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to kiss you,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I wouldn’t know what to do,” you admitted, causing him to smile softly at you. 

“May I?” Joshua asked, and your breath hitched, knowing what he meant, “not because I feel obliged, but because I want to,” he added, and you finally nodded, making him smile as he moved closer to place his soft lips on yours. 

You didn’t know what to do, so you followed his movements, the way he moved his mouth ever so slowly against yours. He was kissing you like you were made of glass, and it made you feel like you were a crystal sculpture. 

Fragile yet beautiful, his kiss made you feel worthy. Joshua smiled as he pulled away. 

“Wow,” you whispered. 

“Wow?” he asked, and you nodded. 

“I’ve never had a kiss like this, just a stupid peck. But this one felt like a real kiss, so yeah… this one felt nice,” you admitted as Joshua nodded. “Sorry if I didn’t know what I was doing or it sucked, though, I just—oomph,” your rambling was cut off by his lips as they pressed against yours again.

You felt him smirk against your lips as he pulled away slowly. “You were fine,” Joshua clarified, and you nodded at him. “Look, the party isn’t over, and more people have joined. I think they’re playing music, and they’ve dimmed the lights, so if you want, we can go back?” he offered, smiling at you.

You hesitated. 

“Or I can grab another bottle of soju, and we can put a movie on? Or I can leave you alone?” Joshua offered. 

You smiled at him. “How about a movie?” you chose.

Joshua nodded with a grin. “Be right back! Let me go get the bottle of soju from my room. You pick the movie, but nothing horror,” he added as he left your room. 

You smiled in his wake. 

This was your new beginning. You could start afresh. 

~~

Two weeks in, lectures had started. Joshua had become your partner in crime, your closest friend. You had also grown closer to Jeonghan and Nia; they had become part of your little friendship group, and you felt wanted and included for the first time.

You felt needed, seen, and appreciated. It was everything you ever wanted. 

“Yo!” Joshua yelled, barging into your room one evening while you were reviewing your lecture material for the following day. 

“Do you bother knocking anymore?” You chuckled, shaking your head as Joshua got comfortable on your bed, kicking off his shoes as he lay down. 

“No. Friends don’t bother with formalities,” he told you smugly, making you roll your eyes at him. 

“Why are you here, anyway? I thought you and Jeonghan wanted to go to a social?” you asked him. 

“Yes, but apparently, Jeonghan and Nia decided to go on a date or something, I don’t know,” he mumbled, making your eyes widen. 

“Wait, what?” you exclaimed, and Joshua shrugged. 

“I don’t know. Nia didn’t give me a straight answer, just kept blushing, and Jeonghan just smirked,” he answered as he shrugged off his leather jacket and threw it to the floor. 

“Shua, are you planning on crashing or something?” you asked, putting your pen down and turning to face him, and he grinned at you. 

“Come on, it’s movie night,” Joshua whined playfully, making you smile. 

“Oh, shut up, you’re only here because Jeonghan ditched your ass, and I’m the second choice,” you joked, but you couldn’t help the thread of insecurity that weaved its way into you. 

“See, normally, I’d let that slide, but I know you might take that to heart. Hey, I live across the hall from you, and you’re one of my closest friends here, okay? I don’t want you ever to think that you’re my second choice,” he assured you softly as he got up to wrap his arms around you. 

That was a new thing you got used to: Joshua’s extreme affection - his need to touch and feel loved through the act of touch. It was new to you, but you weren’t entirely mad either. It felt nice being wanted and being a source of comfort to him. 

“Now, stop doodling flowers on your lecture notes and join me. I want to watch something,” he teased, and you nodded, smiling shyly as you saw the flowers etched into your work. 

“Shall we do a Pixar night?” He then suggested. 

“Always,” you smiled, nodding as you joined him on the bed. 

As you sat down, Joshua immediately pulled you to his side. Soon enough, he was curled into you as he held you during the movie, either babbling nonsense or pointing out things you never knew existed in the film. You loved that about him, you thought to yourself. You loved his ability to see the beauty in everything. 

You paused as you stared blankly at the screen. 

Was that it? Did you love him? 

Were you falling for your best friend? 

The man who took you seriously for once and made you feel seen, were you falling in love with him?

You knew you were falling for the man who could see the beauty in everything. 

You wondered hard that night… would he be able to see the beauty in you?

~~

“So, how was your date with Jeonghan then?” you asked Nia, who had just sat across you with her breakfast. 

She shook her head. “It wasn’t a date. I needed to talk to Jeonghan, that’s all,” Nia explained, and you nodded at her. 

“You two would make a cute couple, though?” You joked, earning a scoff from Nia. 

“What would you know about relationships? Aren’t you forever single or something?” she snapped at you out of nowhere, making you feel like all your progress with your friends over the past month crumbled in a second. 

“I…” You opened your mouth to defend yourself until you realised Nia was right. You were no one to give anyone any relationship advice. 

“That’s what I thought. So keep your comments to yourself. Just because you kissed Joshua once does not mean you know a thing,” she added unnecessarily, her words pouring more salt into the wounds you kept so hard to keep closed. 

Why did Nia know that Joshua had kissed you? And why was she using it as an insult? Did she find it laughable, or did Joshua embellish the story and tell them that he only ever kissed you because you were like a wounded puppy, and he felt sorry for you?

“I need to go,” you mumbled before speeding away, feeling nauseous as you returned to the dorms. 

Would Joshua ever hurt you like that? You didn’t think so, but guys like him were never meant to be with girls like you. 

“Yo, what’s up?” 

You heard Joshua’s voice as you walked into the standard room, and instead of reacting like you usually did, you ducked out of the room and ran to your own. Just as you were about to close the door, Joshua’s large hand pushed between the space and wedged himself into your room. 

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked. 

You sighed, not realising that the tears had fallen down your face. “Nothing,” you mumbled weakly, earning an eye roll from Joshua as he grabbed your books out of your hands and placed them on your desk. 

He then held your hand as he walked you to your bed and sat you down. “What happened? I know something did. I’ve seen your happy tears, and these aren’t them. What’s wrong?” he repeated, his hands moving to cup your face. 

“Fuck, Shua! How did Nia know about us kissing that night?” you burst out, making Joshua frown. 

“Fuck, I was talking to Jeonghan. I didn’t think he’d blab to her. Why, what did she do?” he asked. 

“I just… I was teasing her about Jeonghan and her going on a date, and she got annoyed. So I thought to diffuse the tension, I’d joke and say that she and Jeonghan would make a cute couple. She lashed out at that. She asked me what I would ever know about relationships, as I’m a forever single girl. Then, when I couldn’t say anything, she said, “Just because I kissed you, I shouldn’t assume that I know anything,” you admitted, feeling more tears falling down your face as you recalled the comments. 

“What the fuck? Why would she say that? Listen, you can always give relationship advice without being in one, okay? I’ll find out what’s wrong with her, but what she said is so beyond fucked up,” Joshua snarled. You could tell he was angry. 

“That’s not necessary, Shua. But… I want to know why Jeonghan even knew about the kiss,” you mumbled.

Joshua frowned as he sat down next to you. “I’m sorry. We were just chatting, and it slipped,” he apologised. 

“Well, you should be more careful. It’s not fucking okay to do that,” you muttered.

Joshua’s eyes widened at your tone. “Why? Is it embarrassing to kiss me?” he accused, and you stared at him in shock. 

“Oh, don’t even go there. You know I’m the one people laugh at and look at funny. The one everyone knows got a pity invite. And now they all probably think that you kissed me out of pity, too, and now they’re laughing at me!” you ranted, making Joshua scoff at you. 

“I don’t know that much. You don’t let me in about a lot in your personal life or your past, but no one pities you here. No one thinks that—only you do,” Joshua commented, making you feel small. 

“We all have a past, and I’m not trying to fucking invalidate yours, but you need to get over whatever happened to you in high school. This is a fresh start, so instead of victimising yourself every chance you get, maybe get out of that self-pity bubble you’ve trapped yourself in and realise that people might give a fuck about you! But if you keep wallowing and crying over stupid shit like this, then no one will want to be your friend for real,” he huffed out.

When you didn’t speak, Joshua looked up to see how you looked even more devastated than when you came in initially crying over Nia’s comments; he had made you cry more. 

“Y/N—” Joshua started to say, but you shook your head at him. 

“You’re right. I’m being a pain in the ass,” you mumbled, making Joshua groan. 

“That’s not what I’m trying to say, but if that’s how you keep taking it, then sure, you might as well be,” he added, and you nodded. 

“Can you leave? I have an assignment due tomorrow,” you mumbled, getting off your bed and walking to your desk, turning your back to Joshua, making it clear you wanted to be left alone. 

Joshua felt like a complete moron. He knew he was being a dick, but he didn’t like how you spoke in riddles. He didn’t like that. He wanted proper sentences, and you gave him emotion but no real problem. 

Joshua tossed and turned in his bed that night. What was your past? Why were you always suspicious of anyone who wanted to be your friend? Why were you always so guarded? 

He didn’t bother taking the time to look at the clock. Instead, he jumped out of bed and out of his room across the hall and pounded on your door until you opened it, glaring at him. 

“You could have woken up the entire fucking flat,” you hissed as you let him in. 

“Tell me,” Joshua breathed out, and you stared at him, confused. 

“Tell you what?” you asked.

“What happened in your past?” He asked as he sat on your bed, immediately getting comfortable under your blanket. 

“Didn’t you, just like, a few hours ago, oh, I don’t know, tell me to not wallow in my sadness and that I should get over it?” you mocked. 

Joshua sank, shaking his head for a second and holding his hand to you. “Sit. Tell me. Look, I was careless with my words. I just wanted you to stop feeling terrible. But instead of saying that or taking measures to ensure that, I lashed out. I don’t like seeing people sad, but I can be quite clueless when helping them out,” Joshua admitted. You nodded, sitting on the bed but not taking his hand to make a point. 

“I don’t know what it was about me, whether it was my hair, skin or whatever… Maybe I had a goofy smile? And I guess no one liked that? Maybe? I don’t know. All I know is that the kids in my school suddenly decided that I wasn’t worth being friends with,” you started out, struggling to keep your voice steady as you recalled your painful memories, opening old wounds that you had only wrapped in gauze, never adequately healing them. 

“All these students… they would never include me in games or let me sit at their table during lunch, so I’d play alone, eat alone. And then, one year, a group of guys thought it’d be great to act like I was so hideous that they’d cover their eyes for fear of being burned by my ugly face or something,” you mumbled. 

You noticed Joshua’s jaw clench out of the corner of your eyes.

“That went on for a year, the calling me ugly things, but the general feeling and act of being excluded from everything happened and continued until the last day of school. If I’m being honest, everyone just acted as if I inconvenienced them, so I carry that, Shua. I assume I’m always a burden no matter where I go.”

“I fucking hate that, but, and I ask this not to blame you, but out of genuine curiosity and concern, did no one know?” Joshua asked. 

You sighed. 

“Teachers weren’t blind. They knew, but if no one was physically attacking me, they kept their mouths shut. I told a counsellor, and her advice to me was that I should seek compassion for those who bully me because they’re probably victims of bullying themselves,” you scoffed, recalling the god-awful advice the counsellor gave you. 

“What about your parents?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head. 

“Never, no. I mean, I’m sure they guessed. I never had any birthday parties, but I didn’t want to tell them,” you mumbled. 

“Why?” Joshua asked, and you shrugged. 

“I felt stupid because everyone else in school could make friends; they could go a full day without being bullied or mocked or made fun of, and I couldn’t, and I didn’t want to burden them,” you admitted, letting out a muffled sob. 

“They’re your parents; they wouldn’t think you’re being a burden. You’re their daughter,” Joshua offered, and you shrugged. 

“I wore a skirt to a school disco once, and all the others could do was point out how funny I looked. Everything and anything I did in school, I felt like a hundred eyes watching me, waiting for me to fuck up,” you explained, taking a deep breath. 

“All through school, I lived like that, so forgive me for being cautious when a new guy—especially a guy like you—openly welcomes me as his friend,” you mumbled, making Joshua quirk his brows at you. 

“A guy like me?” Joshua asked.

“A hot and handsome guy. A guy like you would be the boyfriend of one of the pretty girls, someone like Nia. You’d be with her, and you two would give me sickly sweet smiles before laughing at me the minute my back was turned, and I – I guess I know you’re not that kind of a person, but when Nia snapped at me and used the fact you kissed me as an attack… it felt like that I was back in high school,” you admitted. 

“I see,” Joshua said before turning you around to face him. “I’m going to ask you something, and you need to be honest with me, okay?” Joshua asked. You nodded. “Did you think I was mocking you when I told Jeonghan we kissed?” he asked.

You nodded slowly. “I know you wouldn’t, but… I have a past where guys that looked like you and Jeonghan would mock me, and girls like Nia would get guys like you while I sat on the sidelines and watched,” you reasoned, and Joshua nodded. 

“You’ve survived a lot, and I’m sorry you even had to go through it in the first place, but please know one thing: I’m not going to ever hurt you like that,” Joshua said, kissing your hand softly. 

“I kissed you that night because I wanted to, not because I felt pity or anything. Girls like Nia… I don’t know what to make of that sentence, but I kissed you, not her. I find you beautiful, and I’ll gladly go blue in the face repeating it to you,” Joshua proclaimed, making you smile. 

“It’s not out of pity either. I wish you could see yourself the way I do one day,” he inched forward. 

“Can I?” He finally asked.

You nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt his soft lips on yours. Moments later, Joshua pulled away and smiled at you. 

“You’re beautiful. And I hope you’ll understand that every time I kiss you, it’s not because I have an ulterior motive but because I want to.” 

You didn’t know how to respond, so you simply blushed and smiled at him, nodding. 

“Now cuddle me. I want to sleep, and I know you don’t have an assignment tomorrow, considering you messaged me saying freedom in capitals,” Joshua joked as he pulled you into his arms. 

You couldn’t help but melt at the fact that he remembered that little detail that would haunt you and make you overthink everything Joshua would ever do. 

~~

You had never slept next to a boy before. Let alone wake up with his arms wrapped around your waist and his leg thrown over yours. But here you were the following day – laying in Joshua’s vice-like embrace.ou moved slightly to get up, and you thought you were successful until you heard Joshua let out a soft moan. 

You froze. You were sure that was just a regular moan he would let out in his sleep until he moved his leg, and you felt his hardness against your inner thigh. You might have never felt the touch of another pair of lips on yours until a month ago, but you weren’t an idiot. You could tell an erection when you felt one. You knew Joshua was turned on. But then again, you recalled reading that sometimes men just get hard for no reason.

That was it, you thought to yourself. It wasn’t because he was attracted to you; it was simply because there was a concept known as ‘morning wood’, and Joshua was prominently exhibiting it. Still, you couldn’t help feeling butterflies in your stomach. You couldn’t help the arousal you felt start to pool in your panties. 

You were a virgin, not a moron; you knew what was happening to you. And you needed Joshua to leave as soon as possible so that you could take care of the problem he caused. 

“Joshua,” you mumbled, trying to move away from him, which only made him move against you more, allowing his length to brush against your inner thigh over and over. He was incredibly long, is what you gathered. Very well endowed. 

“Stop moving,” Joshua mumbled sleepily as he pulled you tighter to him, moving his hips again as his length brushed against you, this time dangerously close to your aching cunt. You knew you needed to stop him before it escalated, and he regretted it. 

“Shua!” you yelped, pinching him, making him groan as he jolted awake, glaring at you as you broke free from his embrace. 

“Woman, will you let me sleep?” Joshua complained, his morning voice doing nothing to ease the ache in your pussy. It was so husky and deep… You wanted that voice to wake up to every morning for the rest of your life. 

“Not until that goes away!” you blurted out, making Joshua look at you funny until he followed your gaze down to his cock–his very hard cock. 

“Oh fuck! Well… this is just a normal thing,” Joshua said, chuckling, and you knew you hated how that made you feel. You wished to be the reason to arouse him, but he chalked it up to biology. “If I’m not out of line in saying this, you would also cause a similar problem, and holding you in my arms like that last night…  felt nice. So I’m sure my body was showing its appreciation in ways I didn’t,” he explained further, making you look down at the duvet with a stupid smile adorning your face. 

“Joshua, if you need to take care of it, you should do it. I don’t know what to do,” you mumbled quickly, earning a nod from Joshua. 

“Wait, ever?” Joshua asked, hating how incredulity laced his voice. 

“No. You don’t need to sound so shocked,” you mumbled, feeling defensive. 

“I’m not; I’m sorry, it’s the ass crack of dawn, and my brain is barely functioning,” Joshua defended.

You rolled your eyes at him. “And yet your cock was nestled in my ass crack,” you teased, your eyes widening in horror when you realised what you said. 

“Did you like it?” Joshua suddenly asked; his demeanour changed as he leaned back against the wooden headboard, making you gulp. 

His erection was more prominent with this slight adjustment. 

“I asked you a question. Did you like my cock rubbing against you,” Joshua repeated, this time his eyes burning into yours, and you knew you couldn’t lie. 

“What am I meant to say? I’m human,” you replied lamely, hoping it’d give him enough of an answer for him just to drop it. 

“So, it turned you on?” Joshua asked instead. 

You glared at him. “Why do you want to know?” 

Joshua smiled at you, admitting, “Because to think you are turned on… it’s fucking hot,”  

You wanted to yell but bit your lip to avoid verbalising your thoughts. 

“It’s even hotter knowing that I’m the reason behind it,” he added, and you kept staring at the duvet. 

“You should go,” you said abruptly, making him look at you in confusion. 

Even you weren’t entirely sure why you said that. 

Well, you did know why you didn’t want to be intimate with him: for fear that he’d take one look at what you had to offer and be repulsed. You’d be led to believe so what would stop him?

“If I overstepped,” he started to say, and you shook your head and held your hand out to him. 

“You didn’t! Just go!” you rushed, getting off the bed, indicating to Joshua that he, too, should leave. 

“I’ll catch you later?” Joshua quietly offered, and you nodded, waving to him awkwardly as he walked out of your room.

You let out a breath you were holding after he left. 

You shook your head, cursing yourself for kicking him out, but you knew you did the right thing. Joshua, just like any other man, had eyes and would be disgusted once he saw what you hid under your clothes. 

~~

Later that day, you walked into your lecture hall, cursing, when you saw that the only empty seat left was the one next to Nia. You sighed as you moved to sit down next to her, and she hesitated for a second before moving her bag down to the floor allowing you to sit next to her. 

“Hey,” you mumbled. 

You weren’t entirely sure why you were trying to converse with her when she had been rude to you, but you didn’t have many friends. This meant you didn’t have very high standards or understand boundaries.

“Hi,” Nia replied. Her tone was clipped. 

You assumed it was because she didn’t want to be disruptive during a lecture. She gave you a tight-lipped smile before returning to the front of the screen. 

“Y/N, hold up,” Nia called after you as you started to walk out of the lecture theatre once the professor had dismissed everyone. “Thanks for ratting me out to Joshua, by the way,” she taunted, and your eyes widened. 

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said to you. That was really shit. But you ran to Joshua, who then told Jeonghan, and then Jeonghan took it upon himself to lecture me about being kind to one another for twenty minutes. Either way, I shouldn’t have said what I said, so this is my apologies. 

“We good?” Nia asked, and you nodded. 

Not understanding what boundaries meant and not having many friends made you realise that your bar for human decency could have been higher. They needed to be higher. You knew that what Nia said to you was barely an apology. It was more of an “I’m sorry you got offended” apology, a shallow apology usually reserved for celebrities and their notes app. 

“It’s fine, I’m sorry, it’s just that Joshua caught me crying that day, and I guess I ended up telling him everything,” you rambled, biting your tongue, realising that you should have done it sooner, for it would have prevented you from oversharing.

Your bond with Joshua was sacred; you didn’t want any other girl or anyone to come in between that. You knew it was selfish and childish, but he held your entire life in his hands, and he didn’t know it. 

“So, are you two close friends then?” Nia asked as you two walked down the hall to the quad. 

“Yes,” you confirmed. You were shy about most things, but not this. You were his friend, one of his closest. 

“Then, do you know if he’s currently got his eyes on anyone?” Nia asked, her tone lowering slightly and your eyes widening at her question. 

“Wait, what?” you asked, and Nia smiled at you, the kind of smile that reminded you of the girls in school who called you pretty – only to say that you were pretty ugly. 

“Oh, I’m just screwing with you. He’s hot, but don’t worry. I don’t need your advice to get him. Besides, he and I have already kissed once,” Nia casually stated, making your heart sink. 

“What? When?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper. 

“Oh, you know, the night you chickened out for the dare to get pecked by Joshua? Someone dared him to kiss me after you left, and he did. I have to say I wanted to know what else he could do with his mouth,” Nia chuckled, making you feel like your stomach was twisting. 

You needed to leave. 

You couldn’t hear this. 

“I have to rush back, but I’ll catch you later?” you rushed, and Nia smirked, nodding and sending you a sickly-sweet smile. 

You were beyond thankful that your feet still moved because your mind was starting to malfunction and short-circuit. 

Joshua kissed you after he kissed Nia. That meant it was a pity kiss. And not only that, you were so taken away by the sweet cherry taste on his lips. Now it hit you that the taste was not only cherry but also peach, and it wasn’t his lip balm. It was hers. 

Joshua had kissed you without even bothering to remove the evidence that he kissed Nia minutes ago. 

But it wasn’t his fault, you thought. You were so desperate to be loved and feel the intimacy – to feel a proper kiss, the kind of kisses your friends bragged about – that you didn’t care that your first proper kiss was not only a pity kiss but that you also tasted another woman’s lip balm with it. 

You felt so stupid. 

Joshua had lied to you about what the kiss meant and failed to tell you that he kissed Nia. But then again, he was under no obligation to tell you anything. Where his lips went was not your business. You weren’t his girlfriend. You were just his friend. 

“Y/N, keep storming around like that, and you’ll burn a hole into the rug,” Joshua joked, his voice interrupting your thoughts when you realised that while you were busy ripping yourself to shreds, you reached back to the dorms. “Oh, by the way, I got something I want to show you. Can I show you in your room?” he asked excitedly. 

You couldn’t help the jealousy, bitterness, and anger that overtook your following words. “Sure, but are you sure that you didn’t show Nia first and are putting on an act now, pretending to show me?” you spat at him, taking Joshua aback. 

“Run that by me again?” he asked, and you scoffed as you opened your room door. Joshua walked in behind you, making you glare at him. 

“You kissed Nia that night. The night you kissed me, the first night. You kissed her and then kissed me,” you mumbled, hating how vulnerable and weak you sounded at this moment.

Joshua kept going from being your safe space to a man who toyed with your feelings. 

“I, fuck, how did you find out?” he asked, running his hand over his face and letting out a deep exhale, and you stared at him. 

“You’re not going to deny it?” you asked, and Joshua shrugged. 

“I’m not going to lie to you,” he offered bluntly, making you scoff. 

“You had no problem lying to me that night,” you countered, and Joshua shook his head at you. 

“I didn’t lie. I omitted a fact. But yeah, you’re right. Why did this conversation even occur? What did Nia say, exactly?” 

You sighed at Joshua’s questions. “Doesn’t matter. The point is that you kissed me after you kissed her,” you mumbled.

Joshua frowned as he inched closer to you to place his hands on your face, making you look at him. “Why does that matter?” he asked so innocently that you felt like you couldn’t even be upset. 

But you were. “Because I was a consolation kiss! You might not see it that way, but I fucking do, Joshua! I do. And you know what? It fucking sucks to know that you only kissed me because you felt bad for me. You kissed me after kissing the pretty girl, too, to what? Show that you’re capable of charity?” you accused. 

Joshua groaned. “I get your past, and I get why it’s making you lash out in the ways it is, but you cannot compare everything I do to the people who fucked you over in the past! I’m not one of them,” Joshua defended, earning a dry laugh from you. 

“Really? Because you are sure as shit fucking me over like them. I don’t want you kissing me or saying lewd things when you get hard from cuddling me because you think it’s easy to fuck with my feelings. I might not have any experience with all this, Joshua, but I have plenty of experience with being hurt and fucked over. You’re not the one I expected it to come from, though,” you spat back. 

Joshua just sighed. “Look, come find me when you want to talk like an adult. But if every little piece of gossip sets you off like this, I cannot keep up,” Joshua announced as he stormed out of your room. 

It was only your room he left… so why did it feel like he walked out of your life and broke your heart with the door as it slammed shut behind him?

~~

You didn’t talk to Joshua for two weeks. 

You’d bump into him often. How could you not? He stayed across from you, and it was hard to avoid your neighbour. Except it seemed like he would go out of his way to ignore you and express his disdain for you. 

At first, you assumed you were being dramatic, just like Joshua would call you dramatic. Maybe he, too, realised he wanted nothing to do with you, just like everyone else. 

“Penny, for your thoughts?” the guy suddenly asked you one day when you returned from your lecture. 

“You’re talking to me now?” you asked, puzzled. Joshua smiled, nodding. 

“I thought I wasn’t enough of an adult?” you snapped, making Joshua wince as you unlocked your door. 

However, he still followed you inside your room, making you narrow your eyes at him. 

“I didn’t realise I invited you in?” you asked, and he frowned, looking down at his feet. 

“I know I did something shitty to you, and it’s even worse because I wasn’t an adult myself. Hell, I stormed out of your room,” Joshua admitted, chuckling, and you sighed deeply at him. 

“I know I was too much. I just have a past,” you mumbled, and Joshua nodded. 

“I’m not trying to negate it, Y/N, but at some point you need to move past it. You have a clean slate to do whatever you want; why don’t you take advantage of that?” Joshua offered, and you nodded at him. 

“I know, and I get it. But with my past, Shua, I just – I let it haunt me so much that I end up struggling to believe that anyone could ever like me for me,” you admitted, and Joshua frowned as he moved to stand in front of you, his tall frame dwarfing you. 

“I’m so sorry that I was not more understanding. Truly, I am. I should have been, fuck. I just let my immaturity get the best of me,” Joshua apologised, and you shook your head at him. 

“We’re both learning. You have no reason to apologise to me. I’m serious. You don’t,” you admitted, and Joshua smiled softly at you as he wrapped you in a tight embrace. 

“How about we blow off steam at the party that Jeonghan’s flat is hosting?” Joshua offered. 

“I don’t know, the last party did nothing but cause drama, or rather, I overreacted,” you mumbled softly, making Joshua shake his head at you. 

“Your reactions are valid. Please don’t let me or anyone take that away from you,” Joshua comforted you, making you smile softly at him. 

“So, what’s the occasion of this party?” you asked, and Joshua shrugged. 

“I honestly don’t know, and I quote Jeonghan on this: who needs a reason? A party is a party,” Joshua chuckled, making you smile along with him. “Come on, go get ready, and we can go!” Joshua cheered, making you smile at him. “Look, we’re going to have ups and downs in our friendships. Isn’t that normal? But I promise I’ll keep the dramatic storming out of rooms to a minimum,” he joked, making you nod at him. 

“What should I wear?” you asked, making Joshua grin.

“Whatever you feel comfortable in,” he answered, making you swoon at his answer. 

It was a simple statement, but he never pressured you to look a certain way. But you still let your demons get the best of you. 

Was the reason why he didn’t deem it necessary to tell you to wear something nice that, regardless of what you wore, he’d never consider you attractive, so it didn’t matter?

“I can hear you overthinking. I’m saying wear something comfortable because it’s a flat party, not because I think you can’t pull off something else. I know you can. Hell, if you want to wear a dress and heels tonight, I support it, but I know you won’t be comfortable in it, not at a house party,” Joshua rationalised, calming the demons in your mind and making you nod and smile at him. 

“Sorry,” you gave him a sheepish smile, and Joshua shook his head at you. 

“Stop apologising for how you feel,” he said as he moved to open your wardrobe. 

“Oh, what about this? It’s sparkly?” Joshua beamed as he handed you a sparkly green top. 

You bought it on a whim once; it was what all the pretty girls in the magazines wore, it was what all the cute girls wore, and you just thought that if you wore that, you too would be pretty. 

“It’s stunning, and I think it’d make you sparkle and look like a mermaid,” Joshua laughed. 

“Mermaids are attractive?” You asked, taking the green top from him. 

“Listen, Ariel is fucking hot,” he declared, making you laugh. 

“She nearly gave up everything for a guy. A guy who she knew nothing about, and all because he was handsome,” you mumbled. 

“Not a Little Mermaid Fan?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head. 

“Not a fan of how much she gave up for him,” you mumbled, and he nodded, sensing that if he didn’t divert your attention somewhere else, this conversation would take a very gloomy turn.

“To be fair, and I’m just assuming here, it wouldn’t be easy to sustain a relationship with a damn fish,” Joshua said knowingly, making you laugh. 

“Okay, get out, you fish expert. I need to get ready,” you joked, pushing Joshua towards your door, and he nodded. 

“Be ready in about thirty minutes?” Joshua offered, and you nodded. 

~~

You were done with your shower, and as you walked out, you almost liked what you saw in the mirror. 

Almost. 

You wore the sparkly green top, paired it with black jeans, and wore your stripped Converse. You dusted a light wash of makeup on your face and some mascara on it then reached for the peach-flavoured gloss and dabbed your lips with a small amount before smiling in the mirror. 

“Ready?” You heard Joshua yelling obnoxiously outside your door, making you cringe at him. 

“You’re insufferable,” you giggled as you opened the door, laughing at him. 

Your laughter stuck in your throat when you took in Joshua’s appearance. 

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” Joshua giggled, making you glare at him. 

“You look good, okay,” you huffed, making Joshua smile. 

“Likewise. Shall we go? Jeonghan’s been texting me. Oh, by the way, Nia will be there,” Joshua said, his voice softening as he spoke her name. 

“Shua, I can manage. She might have just been having a bad day. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s fine. It’s all in the past,” you said, not meaning it entirely, but Joshua was right. You couldn’t live your entire life crying at every upsetting situation. 

“If she steps out of line, I’ll put her back in place, I promise,” Joshua added, and you smirked at him. 

“Kinky,” you joked before slapping a hand over your mouth, your eyes widening in shock at what you said. 

“Oh, do you want to find out?” Joshua teased, making you look down shyly. 

“Come on, Jeonghan is waiting,” you said shyly as you dragged him across the hall to flat 2B. 

You didn’t see it then, and how you wish you did because your words lit a fire of envy in Joshua, one he could not douse and one that ended up ruining the night. 

~~

The house party was going quite well, there were no silly dares and no bitchy comments, but you couldn’t place your finger on Joshua’s behaviour. The entire night, he was distant and standoffish with you. 

Hell, he was chatting with Nia for a fair bit, but you chalked it up to the fact that you were a chronic over-thinker and that Joshua didn’t necessarily mean to do what he did with the intent of hurting you. 

“I like your top, by the way,” Jeonghan said rather loudly and drunkenly, and you smiled, thanking him. 

“Oh, thank you. Actually, Joshua helped pick it out,” you answered, and you saw Joshua smile warmly at you. He was about to respond when Nia spoke before him instead. 

“Why? You can’t choose your outfits or something?” Nia mocked, earning a couple of chuckles from what you could only guess were her minions. 

“I…” you mumbled, lost. 

Joshua was about to speak, but something stopped him. That something was Jeonghan, who shot daggers at Nia, making her roll her eyes. 

“Anyways, I was promised games, and all we’ve done is drink and make small talk,” Nia complained, and Jeonghan nodded slowly. 

“Get the cards then, and we can start playing,” Jeonghan said as he turned to face you. 

“You look beautiful, don’t listen to her. She has this bitchy persona, but she’s actually nice. Just got to get past the ice-cold persona,” Jeonghan mumbled to you. 

You smiled at him before noticing how Joshua smiled at Nia and whatever she whispered. 

Didn’t he say he’d set Nia straight if she spoke out of turn? So why didn’t he? 

“Alright, we’re just playing snap but with dares and forfeits if you don’t do your dare,” Nia explained once one of her friends brought her a deck of cards to her. 

It was quite an easy game, and the night was progressing smoothly. Nia hadn’t made a single snide comment, and thankfully, your speed made you avoid some stupid dares. 

“Oh! Joshua, you lost that round. You have to complete a dare!” One of Nia’s friends squealed, making you wince. 

“Ugh, I knew it. What do I have to do?” Joshua asked, smiling. You felt your heart starting to pound in your chest. 

“Make out with Nia. I know you guys only kissed, but this time, a proper make out,” Nia’s friend suggested, making your heart fall into your stomach with her suggestion. 

Surely, he wouldn’t say yes. 

“Sure, why not?” Joshua chuckled as he turned to face Nia, who shot you a smirk before meeting to place her lips on his, earning a few wolf whistles and cheers from the others in the room as they kissed. 

They fit together. It made sense. She knew what to do. You didn’t. 

You could feel your eyes burn with tears and knew you had to leave. You couldn’t watch this. You couldn’t keep watching this. 

You got up to leave but got up so hastily that you failed to notice that your glittery top got snagged by the edge of the table. The tear was barely noticeable, but the scrape of your chair against the floor was loud and got everyone’s attention, including Nia who smirked at you. 

“See, this is why you should dress for your body, not just based on trends. I guess that the rip was the universe’s way of letting you know that the shirt needed to be let out a bit,” Nia said with a straight face, her voice devoid of emotion, but her words were laced with venom. 

The venom that you could feel was starting to move in your body and to your heart and brain, making you hate everything about your body and yourself more than usual. 

Nia’s vile comments finally made Joshua snap as he pulled away from her and stood up. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He shouted at Nia as she shrugged. 

“She looked silly in that top. Is that why you picked it up, Shua? Because you couldn’t resist, knowing how stupid she would look in that?” Nia added, smirking. Her words were slurred, so you knew not to believe her, or at least that’s what you told yourself. 

But then again, doesn’t a drunken mind speak sober thoughts?

“Y/N!” Joshua called out as you turned your back to everyone and tried to leave. 

You took a deep breath before turning to him. “I’m fine, just tired,” you mumbled before exiting the flat. 

~~

After the flat party, you returned to your room, and you stood in front of your mirror in your underwear after a shower. 

You stared hard; you could see every dent, mark, and scar on your body. 

You weren’t chubby, far from it, but you weren’t a size two. 

You had curves, which came at the cost of more stretch marks. 

You had long, wavy hair that never seemed to cooperate with you. 

Nia was right; you didn’t look good. 

You were so immersed in picking yourself apart that you failed to notice Joshua walk in and wrap his arms around your waist.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he mumbled into your bare skin, and you could feel his toned arms under the flimsy fabric of your bra. 

“For what? She’s just telling the truth. She’s the kind of flawless I wish I could be,” you mumbled, squinting at the reflection. 

You hated what you looked like. You sighed deeply before removing Joshua’s arms around you. 

“I fucked up. I said I’d defend you, and I didn’t,” Joshua mumbled, and you sighed, sitting on your bed. 

Joshua sat down, kneeling, making you look into his big eyes shining with unshed tears. 

“Why the fuck are you the one about to cry? I’m the one that got body-shammed in front of everyone. You got the pretty girl, and you got to even kiss her!”

“I’m about to cry because I have been spouting this loyalty bullshit from day one, and when it came to you, I just let it go. And I guess it’s because you dropped my hand when I was being suggestive and ran off to find Jeonghan instead,” Joshua grumbled, and you scoffed at him. 

“That’s such a pathetic reason. I only ran off like that because, you know, I’m uncomfortable with sexual innuendos and jokes. I’ve never experienced anything, so how can I pursue a conversation further?” You questioned.

Joshua just frowned as he looked to the ground. 

“I didn’t,” you started to say and moved to kneel until you were on your knees, sitting in front of Joshua. “I didn’t run because I wanted to get cosy with Jeonghan. But I’ll say he was a better friend than you were tonight,” you finished and stood up, grabbing an oversized shirt off your chair, pulling it over your body, and moving to Joshua. 

“I was seeing red, and like a fucking dick, I said nothing. I didn’t pick that top for you because I wanted to mock you. I picked it because you looked lovely in it. It fits you like a glove,” Joshua spoke, and you scoffed at him. 

“Are you sure I didn’t look like a stuffed turkey instead?” you mocked, and Joshua shook his head. 

“I don’t know what Nia’s deal is—I don’t fucking know—but you didn’t look silly in the outfit. It’s your body; you wear what you want. You looked lovely, my angel,” Joshua smiled as he spoke, and you quirked your brows at him. 

“My angel?” you echoed, and Joshua blushed slightly. 

“I give nicknames,” he mumbled.

“Oh,” you mumbled.

“Only to the ones I love,” he replied, making your heart swoon. 

You knew you already had it wrong for Joshua, but his saying made you swoon more. You felt safe, and you knew that you were falling for him.

“I didn’t look stupid in the green top?” you asked again, and Joshua smiled, turning to face you. 

“No, you didn’t. Fuck Nia and her stupid ass opinions,” Joshua huffed, hoping it’d make you laugh, but somehow it failed. 

“Wasn’t that your aim tonight? To fuck her. I mean, I gathered that was the aim because you leapt at the chance to kiss her,” you spat at Joshua, who shrank at the accusation. 

“I just… fuck, I screwed up. I told you that I got mad, and I fucked up. I fucking did. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Joshua mumbled, and you sighed. 

“It hurt to watch that,” you voiced, and Joshua nodded. 

“Did, uh, did you want to kiss me instead?” Joshua asked, and your eyes widened. 

“Is this some sort of stupid game you play where you kiss Nia first and then come back and give me a pity kiss? Because if it is, I want nothing to do with it,” you said as you tried to get up, only to have Joshua pull you back onto his lap, glaring at you. 

“It’s not. Fuck, do you not realise that I had kissed you before, which wasn’t a fucking pity kiss? Two, I got hard for you. And now I want to kiss you because you looked amazing at that party, but you look even better in this stupid shirt that I kind of want to rip you off!” Joshua exclaimed, making your eyes widen. 

“Oh,” you said, unsure of how to respond.

Joshua rolled his eyes at you. “Yeah, oh,” he huffed, making you giggle. 

You didn’t know where you felt a surge of confidence rush into your blood, but you did, and as it did, the words tumbled out of your mouth sooner than you could stop them. 

“Then kiss me,” you whispered out. 

Okay, maybe you weren’t that confident, but you said the words, and you knew Joshua heard them because his grip around your waist tightened. 

Joshua didn’t say anything. He simply pulled you in closer until your lips met his. You ignored the taste of cherry lip gloss on his lips and instead tried to enjoy his taste, but you couldn’t. You eventually sighed into the kiss as you pulled away. 

“Did I do something?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head. 

“I just… I keep tasting Nia’s stupid cherry lip gloss on your lips, and it’s killing the mood,” you admitted, making Joshua sigh as he used his shirt to wipe his lips. 

“Try again,” he encouraged, and so you did. 

This time, you could taste him; the cherry flavour was an aftertaste, but one you could swallow because you liked him too much to care. 

As the kiss progressed, Joshua’s grip on your waist only got tighter, and you kept moving against his hips, making him groan into the kiss. He was so big and thick that you could feel yourself grow wetter each minute. 

“Wait, stop,” he mumbled against your lips, his grip still tight on your waist because he knew you’d run away the second he told you to stop. “Where does all this leave us? The slight dry-humping, the kisses?” he asked, and you smiled at him. 

You wanted to tell him you liked and wanted to date him, but you didn’t want to scare him off. So, you decided to choose an option that would only hurt you. 

But if that was the only way you could ever have Joshua, so be it.

“How about we just keep it casual?” You said, trying to sound nonchalant and unbothered, and Joshua nodded. 

“I agree,” Joshua replied, not leaving room for an explanation as his lips were back on yours instantly, making you moan into the kiss. 

Casual it is.

~~

Over the next three weeks, you learnt what casual meant. It meant still being friends with Joshua and having your usual movie nights with him. And then sometimes you’d end up on his lap, kissing him. 

A week after the casual arrangement began, you found yourself bare-chested and at the mercy of Joshua’s lips and hands running all over your breasts while you palm his hard length over his boxers. 

In the second week of understanding what casual meant, you found yourself clenching around his long fingers as they moved inside of you. You didn’t entirely realise how it happened. Still, it felt so good that you didn’t want to stop it. You were riding the wave of euphoria for as long as you could, and you couldn’t see it crashing anytime soon. You had also given your first blowjob. It was glorious watching Joshua fall apart under your touch. It was a sight you wanted to be tattooed in your brain. 

During the third week of understanding the word casual, you felt pleasure you only thought was confined to porn and smutty fanfiction, but when you two stumbled back drunkenly after a night out, you couldn’t control your hormones. 

You wanted him. 

“Joshuaie!” you slurred slightly as he helped you back to your room. 

It was a Friday night, and you had too much to drink. As a result, you ended up stumbling a bit, but you weren’t drunk, far from it. But you also had a pep to your step, one that did not help you walk. 

“Sit,” Joshua ordered as he helped you sit on your bed. 

His tone was slightly cold, and you immediately felt like he had poured cold water all over you. With one word, you sobered up immediately and let out a sniffle. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your night out. I’ll be fine. You can go back and enjoy yourself,” you mumbled as you kicked your shoes off and scurried under your covers.

Joshua sighed as he walked into your ensuite bathroom, grabbed your makeup wipes, returned to you, and sat on your bed. 

“Sit up,” he said, his tone softer this time, his kind eyes sparkling with endearment. 

“You didn’t ruin my night, none of it. Fuck, I just got annoyed. A few guys made some shitty comments about you, and I wanted to punch them,” Joshua explained as you sat up, and he moved to wipe the makeup off your face gently. 

“Oh, they probably said I looked hideous; no need to get mad at that, nothing I’m not used to,” you admitted, letting out a sad chuckle. 

“Is that what you fucking think?” Joshua asked, and you shrugged, at which he sighed, kicking off his shoes.

You shrugged. “Is it not?” 

Joshua shook his head. “Fuck, they couldn’t stop talking about all the sexual things they wanted to do to you, and I wanted to just punch them. No man should ever talk about a woman like that. It’s so stupid,” Joshua huffed out, making you smile. 

“Well, at least I was being complimented,” you sassed back, spilling out of your bed as you drunkenly stumbled into your bathroom and stepped into your shower, the alcohol making you forget Joshua’s presence in the room.

Thankfully, you always kept an oversized shirt in the bathroom, which you changed into before stepping out of the shower and walking back into the room. 

“The things those guys were saying weren’t complimentary. They were sexist and disgusting hell. If it were me…” Joshua trailed off when you joined him on your bed. 

“What would you say, huh?” you asked, and Joshua smiled as he inched closer to you. 

“I’d do more than speak,” he answered. 

The atmosphere in the room suddenly changed; it was now filled with want and desire, and you decided to bask in the glory and be bolder. 

“Show me then,” you mumbled. 

“You’ve been drinking,” Joshua mumbled, and you shrugged. 

“Your point? I’m buzzed, but I can consent. I can count to ten backwards if you want,” you joked.

Joshua smiled as he stood up, making you stand up with him. He pulled the curtains over your window so that the only thing illuminating the room was your table light. Joshua moved to pull the leather jacket off his body and tossed it on your desk before pulling you into a soft kiss. 

“God, I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you tonight,” he admitted, making you smile. “Can I take this off?” he asked, and you hesitated for a second, then nodded. 

“Just know that… I don’t look like a model underneath,” you mumbled suddenly. Even though Joshua had been intimate with you before, you still felt insecure every time. 

“I’m glad you don’t. You’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful,” Joshua praised you as he pulled the fabric off your body, leaving you naked. 

He walked you backwards until the backs of your knees touched his bed. He gently pushed you down, and you moved back on the bed as he crawled between your legs. He placed his lips on yours. You moaned into the kiss, and Joshua slipped his tongue into your mouth, deepening it. He pulled away gently just to look at you.

“Can I touch you?” Joshua asked, and you nodded slowly. 

He smiled as he placed his lips on yours again, kissing you again, and then moved his mouth to your breasts.

“Fucking hell, these tits. You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to suck and bite them.” 

You moaned as he squeezed your breasts, his fingertips rubbing your nipples. 

“Each time you were in a low-cut top, I wanted nothing more than to bring you into a room and take your tits in my mouth.” 

You squeezed your thighs as Joshua’s words did nothing but torment your aching cunt. 

He moved a hand down your body. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he said as he moved to lay down between your legs. 

He pushed your legs apart, and his tongue found your cunt. He placed several kisses on your cunt, each kiss making you buck into his mouth. He wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Easy, princess, I’m going to take good care of you.” You nodded as he ran his tongue along your folds, moaning as he tasted you. He circled his tongue around your entrance as he pushed his long and thick tongue inside you. 

“Fuck, Joshua,” you cried out, tugging on his hair. 

He growled into your cunt when you tugged on his hair, the vibrations making you shake. He pulled his mouth away from you and pushed two fingers inside you. He stood on his knees and stared at you directly as he hooked his fingers inside you, his other hand pressing down on your stomach.

“Hold still, princess; I will make you scream my name.” 

You nodded, and Joshua started moving his hand up and down vigorously. You could hear just how wet you were getting. 

“Come on, princess, I can hear how fucking wet you are. Wouldn’t it be nice if you just squirted all over my hand?” 

You arched your back as Joshua kept fingering you. 

“Pretty girl, I can hear you squirt for me. I can make you squirt again, don’t worry.” 

You kept whimpering until something inside you snapped, and you felt your vision fade as you came hard. You felt yourself squirt all over Joshua’s fingers. He pulled his fingers out of you and sucked on them. 

“God, you’re so fucking sweet,” Joshua moaned, praising you. You felt a bolt of confidence surge as you got onto your knees. “You don’t have to?” he assured, but you shook your head at him.

“I want to. Will you let me?” 

You reached forward and wrapped your mouth around his length. Well, as much as you could, your hands made up for what your mouth couldn’t. You ran your tongue along his length until you fixated your mouth around his tip. You kept sucking his tip, and your hands reached down to play with his balls. Joshua bucked in your mouth as you kept sucking his tip. 

“Fucking hell.” 

You smirked. Catching Joshua off guard was the only way to get him to submit to you. 

“Fuck, baby, if you keep doing that, I’m going to cum!” 

You kept bobbing your head up and down his length until you felt him still in your mouth and felt his warmth release down your throat. You pulled away, slowly swallowing his release and giving his sensitive tip a final lick. 

“Fuck, get over here,” Joshua moaned as he pulled you into his arms for a sweet kiss. 

You giggled into his chest as he cuddled you, making him nudge you. “What’s on your mind?” 

“You’re perfect,” you said. No mumbling, nothing. You said it confidently. 

“No one’s perfect,” Joshua countered, “plus, you’re only saying that because of the amazing orgasm I just gave you,” Joshua joked, making you groan and sit up. 

“No, you are! You’re so fucking perfect, just you are. I’ll explain someday; right now, it’s fuzzy, but you’re the closest thing to perfection,” you mumbled as you laid back down and curled into Joshua’s embrace. 

“Fuck, I’m going to miss you over winter break,” Joshua spoke, and you nodded. 

“Only three weeks, nothing’s going to change. I’ll still be here,” you said, touching his lips and making him smile into the kiss. 

~~

 The thing about bold statements is that they often come with uncertainty and pain should things not pan out the way you want. Which is precisely what happened to you. 

You said in three weeks nothing would change, but you were wrong because you told yourself that when you were high off the orgasms and falling in love with Joshua, your love only grew stronger every second. 

“Y/N!” Joshua exclaimed when he found you at the café. You were waiting patiently for him. It was the first week back from winter break, and Joshua finally texted to meet up. 

You agreed. You also decided that you wanted to confess to him, to tell him you liked him. 

“Joshua!” You greeted cheerfully as the tall boy hugged you tightly. 

How do you get more handsome every day? 

It was true; Joshua was getting increasingly handsome each day, and you weren’t entirely sure if it was good for your heart. 

“So, what’s up?” he asked once you two sat down in a booth, and he smiled, noticing you ordered his favourite drink for him. 

“Uh, winter break was good. I spent time with family, and uh, Joshua, I have to tell you something,” you started, and he nodded. 

“Me too!” Joshua exclaimed, and you smiled, thinking that maybe you and him were on the same page. Perhaps he liked you the way you liked him. 

“Really?” you asked. “Okay, you first,” you said, and Joshua grinned. 

As he was about to speak, a pair of long, slender arms wrapped around his chest, and a kiss was placed on his cheek. 

You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces – all stabbing you at the same time. 

“Baby, I missed you!” 

You looked to see Nia slide into the booth next to Joshua, making you feel nauseous. You felt like a fucking fool. 

Why would Joshua ever reciprocate what you felt for him? Why would he ever want you when he had a girl like Nia?

“Babe, you’re early. I haven’t told her yet,” Joshua mumbled, apologetic as he awkwardly smiled at you. Nia shrugged. 

“You two are dating?” you asked, and Joshua nodded. 

“We met when I went back home, Nia’s from the same town, and we hung out, and you know, over the last three weeks, she made me the happiest I’ve ever been,” Joshua said, and you could feel your eyes starting to sting with tears. 

“Wait, baby, they just called my order. Be right back,” Nia said, kissing Joshua’s cheek as she waltzed away. 

“I know you’re not her biggest fan, but I promise she’s kind, loving and sweet when you dig past the cold persona. I wanted to tell you, but I also didn’t know how. We weren’t really together or anything, you know?” Joshua mumbled, and that did it for you. 

He never even saw what you two shared as unique. You were nothing to him. 

“Does she make you happy?” You asked, and Joshua nodded, smiling. 

“Then I hope she knows that her side gets her the most amazing man, but if she hurts you,” you started to say, and Joshua shook his head. 

“She won’t!” he said excitedly, and you nodded, knowing that your ‘I’ll hurt her if she hurts you’ speech would be wasted on him.

“Then, go be happy, Joshua, that’s all I want,” you said as you gathered your things. You had to leave this café. You’d fall apart if you stayed any longer. 

“Wait, you said you have something to tell me?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head. 

“I got to go. Another time.” 

You rushed, hurrying out of the café and back to your dorm room, where you cried into your pillow. You cried until you couldn’t cry anymore, then you cried some more. You cried until you couldn’t feel anymore. You cried yourself to sleep, knowing that the boy you loved was never going to be yours. 

You would have to see them, Joshua and Nia. You’d have to see her with him, and it’d hurt because she had everything you had to live without. 

~~

Joshua tried to balance, but he was failing. He would flake on meetings with you and study sessions or hangouts, which started getting on your nerves. You brought it up to him one night during a movie night. 

“Stop making plans if you keep flaking,” you mumbled, and you saw Joshua glare at you. 

“It’s not out of malice. Forget it; you won’t get it,” Joshua dismissed.

“Why wouldn’t I get it?” You asked, and he sighed. 

“You’re not dating anyone. You’ve never been in a relationship either, so I guess you wouldn’t get it,” he mumbled, and you scoffed at him. 

“I don’t have to be doing either of those things to call you out on being a shit friend,” you retorted, making Joshua scoff. 

“You only just made friends, so please don’t act like you have any authority on what friends are meant to do either,” Joshua fired back, making your eyes well up with tears. 

“That’s so mean,” you choked out. 

Joshua groaned. “Oh, for the love of God, I can’t be at your beck and call! I have a life! I’m sorry you don’t, but I do! Why don’t you go out to make some friends? I won’t be able to be there for you all the time, not when someone needs me more, and she’s a priority,” Joshua said. 

His words felt like daggers, slicing you open, drawing blood, but all you felt were tears stinging your eyes. 

“I’m going. You’re right, I should make more friends. Also, I never asked to be a priority, Joshua, but I didn’t expect you to make me an afterthought… But I get it now, you don’t need me,” you explained, tears running down your face as you hurriedly grabbed your bag and stormed out of his room and back to yours. 

He didn’t come after you this time when he made you cry. This time, you were alone. 

And this time, you knew he was not yours. Not anymore. 

~~~

Three Months Later 

You weren’t entirely sure what you were doing at this party; none of the people here were your friends, but you decided to go out because another girl from your dorm, Mai, invited you out. You chose to go since Joshua painfully pointed out how few friends you had and that you should go out and make some. 

You weren’t entirely sure these were the types of friends you wanted to make. You weren’t judging them, but they were just different. They were more outgoing, the type to get wasted and hook up with each other. You judged none of it, but it just wasn’t you. 

“Yo, Y/N, have a shot of this,” Mai said, rushing over to you and handing you a shot glass of clear liquid. “It’ll loosen you up a bit. You’re so wound up,” she moaned, and you sighed, taking a shot of the drink. 

It burnt your throat, but it couldn’t compare to the pain you felt every time you thought of Joshua. 

“Good, have another,” Mai said, handing you another shot, and you did the same thing, downing the clear liquid, shot after shot, until you were four shots in, your mind hazy, and you stopped thinking. 

Instead, you soon found yourself on the dance floor, grinding against some guy. You forgot his name but didn’t care, not when his kisses distracted you from Joshua. And certainly not later when you were back in your room that night, he was down on his knees trying his best to please you. 

“Babe, if you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” he spoke, and you looked at him, his chin wet with your arousal. 

“Kyung,” you drawled; his name finally popped into your mind. “I do. I just don’t have protection,” you mumbled. 

“Oh, is that it? I do,” Kyung said, fishing out a condom from his back pocket, making you smile in amusement. 

You weren’t going to lose your virginity to Joshua. He made it clear that he didn’t see you as someone he’d prioritise, plus he had a girlfriend. 

“Just go slow,” you told Kyung as you pulled your dress off. 

You didn’t care what you looked like anymore. You didn’t. If Kyung could make you feel wanted, you’d do anything to feel that. 

You wanted to know what it felt like to be desired, even if Joshua wasn’t the one to do it. 

~~

You woke up to Kyung gently snoring next to you until you nudged him awake the following day. 

“Hey, oh, are you okay? Any pain, any regrets?” Kyung asked sweetly, and you shook your head. 

“No… Thanks for last night,” you mumbled, and Kyung smiled as he slowly got out of bed. 

“Look, I would stay, but I also don’t think your head is in it because you can tell when someone doesn’t like you, but don’t worry! I’m not mad,” Kyung explained. 

“Kyung, I’m sorry,” you mumbled as he got dressed and shook his head. “It was a hookup, no hard feelings, right?” you asked, and Kyung nodded, smiling at you. 

“Chill, we’re good. But you know, if you ever see me around and you want to repeat what happened last night, I wouldn’t be opposed to it. But if you never want to acknowledge me again, that’s also okay,” Kyung explained, making you smile. 

“I’ll at least say hello,” you joked, making Kyung laugh. 

“See you around, Y/N,” Kyung said as he left your room. You sat in bed and slowly got out later to shower, your legs aching with a good ache. 

It felt nice last night to feel wanted. You felt utterly rejected by Joshua, and you wanted to feel needed, and if doing things like you did last night made you feel the slightest bit wanted, then you’d do it over and over again. 

So, you did. 

You continued it. Going out, getting drunk, hooking up with someone random, and each time, you felt more complete seeing how they drooled when they saw you naked. You enjoyed every moment.

Each hookup was your attempt at filling the Joshua-sized hole in your heart, and though it wasn’t entirely practical, it was enough. It was enough to numb your pain. 

You continued this pattern for so long that you lost track, lost track of how many people you slept with. You just were chasing something permanent in something fleeting. 

~~

You hadn’t spoken to Joshua in two years.

Well, here and there, awkward hellos, but he’d become a ghost to you since he started dating Nia. You pulled away too because you couldn’t be around him, not when you felt your heart break a little more every time you saw him. 

You hadn’t spoken to Joshua in so long, until today, in the final term of your last year of university. You had just returned to the dorms and were unpacking your things after going home for the winter break when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in, it’s open,” you called out, and your eyes widened when they landed on Joshua’s scowling figure. “Well, hello to you too,” you huffed out. 

You had gained more confidence in the two years but felt every bit of it ebb away when you saw Joshua again. Because when you saw him, you were always the broken-hearted girl who cried over the fact that she could never have him. 

“What the hell are you doing with your life?” He asked, making you stare at him in confusion. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Don’t act stupid with me. What are you doing, hooking up with someone new almost every week? Do you know that this gossip followed me back home?” Joshua accused you, making you scoff. 

“Why do you care? You already made it painfully clear that I was not a priority anymore, so why do you care what I’m doing?” you demanded, and Joshua scoffed. 

“Well, if everyone I know is starting to call you a slut, then I care,” Joshua fired back, making you scoff again. 

“Do you think that?” you asked, and Joshua sighed. 

“If the shoe fits,” he mumbled, and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“That day in the café, I wanted to tell you I liked you,” you started to say as you unpacked your belongings. “I started falling for you, Joshua. The minute you made me feel seen, kissed me, and the three weeks we spent fooling around, I fell more and more. I thought you felt the same,” you said, pausing to breathe. 

“But you didn’t, and I had a Joshua-shaped hole in my heart,” you finished, and Joshua stared at you with wide eyes. 

“All that to say, I make no apologies for how I choose to fix that hole in my heart, and I make no apologies for how I choose to fix what you broke,” you responded. 

“Did you just quote Meredith Grey to me?” Joshua asked, making you roll your eyes at him. 

“Shut up, she had great lines,” you bit back. 

“I’m just saying you’re getting a reputation, and you know people won’t respect you as much,” Joshua babbled, making you scoff at him. 

“I couldn’t give less of a fuck. I’m trying to forget you,” you lied as tears started to pool in your eyes. “I don’t care about the respect of hundreds of people who don’t know me, but I do care about the respect you have for me,” you asked.

Joshua stayed silent, feet planted on the ground. 

“I’ve gotten my answer, thank you,” you replied, and Joshua sighed. 

“You keep this up. You’ll lose everyone,” Joshua retorted, making you roll your eyes at him. 

“I only ever had you, and I lost you the day you started dating Nia, so I think I’m good,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. 

“Fine, be that fucking way,” Joshua scowled as he stormed out of your room, slamming the door on his way out, making the hole in your heart grow with every step he took.

~~

“Y/N!” 

You left bed one night when you heard someone yell your name. Startled, you ran to the front door, confused when you saw Jeonghan. 

“Joshua’s in my room, and he’s crying. He needs you,” Jeonghan huffed, and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“No, he doesn’t, he hasn’t for so long. Tell him to go run to Nia,” you spat out, and Jeonghan sighed, running his hand through his blond hair. It was tousled and messy. You guessed that he had just gotten out of bed. 

“Nia is the reason he’s crying, so I can assure you, he does not need her,” Jeonghan deadpanned, making your heart sink. Joshua and Nia had problems? 

“Just go to him, preferably before he drenches my bedsheets with his tears,” Jeonghan rushed, and you sighed, following him across the hall to Jeonghan’s room, where you saw the man you were deeply in love with curled into a ball crying. 

“Joshua?” you said softly, and you only heard a whimper from him in response. 

“Go, I’ll be in the kitchen,” Jeonghan said, pushing you into the room, and you cautiously approached the crying man. 

“She cheated,” Joshua blubbered out, and your heart sank. 

You could only see red. How could she? She had your entire world in her hands and crushed it in one thoughtless moment. 

“I’m going to fucking kill her,” you spat out, and Joshua shook his head. 

“No, just hold me. I don’t want ever to hear her name again,” Joshua begged, and you sighed, giving in to let Joshua cuddle you. 

“I deserved this. I said such shitty things to you. No wonder I’m in this predicament now,” Joshua sighed, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Shut up. You said shitty things. It doesn’t mean you deserved this; no one does; I’m so sorry,” you said, hugging him tighter, earning a soft sigh from him. 

“Y/N, I haven’t been a good friend at all, and I’m going to be one of those douchebags who’s going to ask you to be there for me now because I need you, but I promise this time I won’t hurt you, not again,” Joshua admitted sitting up slightly wiping his eyes. 

“I…” you hesitated and sighed when you saw hurt flash across his handsome features. “Of course I will,” you said, making Joshua smile. 

Of course, you would because you held onto hope. Not that you ever wanted Joshua to get hurt, but he could finally be yours after the hurt passed. 

~~

Joshua was true to his word. Things went back to how they were, you two being the best of buds, no benefits, but still, he was your friend, warming your heart up. This time, it would be fine. 

“You look nice,” Joshua commented as he walked into your room, his hands automatically moving to adjust the zipper you were fiddling with. “There, all done,” he beamed at you. “You look beautiful,” Joshua commented again as he took in your emerald, green floor-length cocktail gown. 

You had just finished getting ready for the final year gala. You smiled at Joshua, and your eyes widened as you took in his appearance. 

“You look just as handsome. Any girl would be lucky to have you,” you suggested, biting your lip when you saw how his expression fell. 

“Let’s not mention that, please?” he asked. 

“She who shall not be named?” you offered with a smile, and Joshua nodded. 

“Yeah, she who shall not be named.” He smiled as you two walked out to your room and the ballroom. 

“Shall we, our final gala as soon-to-be university grads?” Joshua asked, holding his arm to you, and you smiled at him. 

~~

You and Joshua enjoyed the gala. For the most part, there was no drama, just a few odd questions about if you and Joshua were dating, but he quickly shot them down. By the night’s end, you were tipsy enough to spill the words brewing on your tongue for the entire night. 

You still loved him, and tonight, you’d tell him uninterrupted. 

~~

“Okay, what was so important that you needed to drag my ass out here and watch yourself! You’re going to fall over!” Joshua giggled as he wrapped his arm around your waist, making you smile shyly at him. 

This was it; this was the moment you’d tell him everything you felt for him. You’d say to him right here that you loved him. 

“Okay, sit,” you declared to Joshua, who only chuckled and then groaned when you pushed him down onto the icy-cold brick walls that adorned your campus. The décor of your campus made it look like a castle, and at this moment, you felt like you were maybe just in a fairytale. 

Joshua was the prince, and you were the wide-eyed princess about to confess to him. 

“Okay, now shut up and listen,” you giggled, making Joshua laugh. 

“I’ve legit said nothing. The floor is all yours, my love,” Joshua smiled as he spoke, and you melted. That smile would be the death of you. That’s all you knew. 

“So, this year, I felt we became so close. I mean, you were my first friend here, hell, you were probably my first friend here, and I know the last two weeks with your breakup, it wasn’t exactly kind on you. However, you could keep a straight face and smile through whatever pain you tried to hide. Inspired me,” you admitted. You saw Joshua’s smile, and you flashed him a smile before you continued to ramble. 

“I also remember, the night after that awful party, I told you to come and help me out, and you did, and I remember just drunkenly mumbling apologies to you. I think that was the first time I expressed my gratitude for you. You’ve made me a better person, Joshua,” you professed, struggling to look him in the eyes as you poured your heart out.

“I’m not going to lie. Because of the alcohol, I can’t. Honestly, thanks to the alcohol, I can’t remember much of what I said, but I remember you smiling and saying thank you, so I guess I must have said something right!” You drunkenly continued your monologue, making Joshua nod at you. 

“Now,” you said slowly as you stumbled to sit down next to him. 

“I’m going to bring this up quick. The way you shut down when you and Nia broke up. It broke me. I hate the fucking fact that she failed to see how wonderful of a man she lost, but that’s her loss, not yours; I hated that you doubted yourself so much,” you babbled as you placed your hand on his, which made him look up at you. 

“That being said, you inspired me even in your darkest hours. You were able to finally pull yourself out of that shitty headspace, evaluate it, and then reason. It’s something that I admire in you a lot and a trait I wish I also possessed. When I visited you the night, you found out about Nia’s unfaithfulness. I saw it was a different side to you. I no longer saw you as Joshua, the guy who always kept a straight face and never expressed emotions other than happiness and anger,” you explained, pausing to breathe. 

“I saw a guy who was hurt, vulnerable, sensitive, but a guy who was honestly just emotionally drained. That night, I guess, would be the pivotal moment of our friendship because I saw you not only being happy and cheery but also having a different and more sensitive side of yourself,” you smiled as the words tumbled. 

“Y/N, you’re going to make me cry if you continue,” Joshua mumbled, and you knew he wasn’t lying, especially with the way his voice was thick with emotion. You shrugged as you moved to sit down next to him. 

“Okay, turn, face me,” you slurred slightly, making Joshua laugh at you as he turned to face you. 

“How can I help you?” Joshua asked, and you grinned at him. 

“Well, now it’s Joshua appreciation time!” you yelled in his face, making him laugh as he slightly cringed at the volume of your voice before nodding, allowing you to speak. 

“Well, first, I’m jealous of you!” You exclaimed, making Joshua look at you funnily, “why?” Joshua asked, his voice small. 

“You make everything so effortless, good grades, good friends. I know you put effort into everything you do, but you make it look so easy. I’m jealous of that,” you admitted, making Joshua blush as he smiled at the ground. 

“Now, you remember how I said if I could use one word to describe you, it’d be perfect, well I still maintain that and let me break it down for you because I know you’re going to give me the bullshit that no one’s perfect, but listen up Hannah Montana, you are!” You declared, making Joshua laugh. 

“Look, you’re a fantastic friend. Wait for not a perfect friend. You are excellent at giving advice. You are also extremely trustworthy! If I’m ever questioning or hesitant about anything, I can always count on you to give me the correct answer!” You rambled, pausing to take a breath before continuing.

“Jokes apart, speaking presently, I know this month hasn’t been too kind on you! I won’t dwell on the girl who shall not be named. I know how she broke you into two. Still, I hope you know that you fucking deserve better than her. She lost a good thing, and that’s on her to regret for the rest of her life, not you. You’re going to meet the perfect girl because you’re the perfect guy,” you breathed out, smiling at Joshua, who was now smiling softly at you. 

“I know that sometimes you feel that it’s safer not to show your emotions, but as I said, you’re human. You’re entitled to feel and have every right to express them. I know you might find it much easier to ignore them and not deal with them, but sometimes, it’s not too bad to deal with them. All I want to say is that Joshua, if you ever need anything, a hug, a chocolate bar or a lame joke to cheer you up! Then I’m here! You’re one of my closest friends, and I never want to see you upset!” You exclaimed, pausing to take another breath. 

“I love you, Joshua, and before I sort of end this obnoxiously long confession, I want to say that I know you felt that sometimes you weren’t good enough. I want to remind you that you are! You’re good enough, better, and stronger than you give yourself credit for! Thank you for letting me be part of your life,” you exhaled, taking a breath before continuing. 

“So all that being said, I guess I’m trying to say something else too,” you mumbled suddenly, feeling your confidence drain out of your body, and Joshua nodded to you.

“What would that be?” Joshua asked, placing his hand on yours. You smiled at him as you decided to leap of faith and inch closer to him. 

“I…” you gulped before moving closer. You decided kissing him would be easier than telling him you were head over heels in love with him. 

You were about to place your lips on his when you heard her voice, 

“Shua, what did you want to talk to me about?” Nia called out, and you looked at Joshua with hurt and betrayal filling your chest. 

You got up and stumbled as you tried to move as far away as possible from him. 

You could bear your soul to him. You could tell him that you’d take a bullet for him, and you’d still never be enough for him. You’d never be the girl for him. You’d never be her. 

“Y/N, stop!” Joshua yelled out, and you shook your head at him. 

“No, nothing; I just wanted to tell you you were great. I need to, uh, go. You go get your girl,” you mumbled, your voice betraying you as it cracked, and you could feel hot tears start to run down your face. 

You tripped as you tried to run back to the dorms. You were never going to be the one for him. 

You weren’t her.

~~

You’d never be her. That’s all you knew as you cried yourself to sleep tonight, 

Joshua didn’t come to check in on you either that night, but you knew where he was. Balls deep in Nia, or so you could only guess from the moans you could hear across the halls. He was back with her.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, like most nights, but tonight, you’d stay away from him; he was not yours, and his heart would never be yours. 

You barely spoke to Joshua after that night of the final gala. You found out later that he had gotten back together with Nia that night, and so you decided that you’d forget it. Forget him, and heal. 

Divider: Five Years Later

Over the years, you thought you had healed, and you wouldn’t think about him every second, and you thought you were fine until your high school reunion. 

~~

“Joshua, you’re strong now,” you moaned as Joshua carried you into your hotel room. 

Frankly, you weren’t sure how you got here. You had shown up for a university reunion, and you and Joshua picked up from where you left off. It was as if nothing had ever changed. 

However, seven drinks in, Joshua started getting flirtier, and you reciprocated his every advance until you were in this exact position, his arms around your waist, waiting to fuck you. You hoped he wouldn’t pinch you at this moment because if it were a dream, you didn’t want to wake up. 

“You know what I want to do?” He whispered hotly in your ear, making you shiver in his embrace. “I’m going to finger you, lick you and fuck you till you’re trembling and begging to cum, and even then, I won’t let you cum. I’ll cum inside you and leave you tied to this bed. Your clit throbbing and you’ll be begging for me to let you cum, but I’ll leave you here filled with my cum.”

You whimpered at his words; your pussy ached for his touch. You nodded meekly at him. 

Joshua slowly undressed you. He hissed when he saw your swollen pussy lips. He moaned at the scent of your arousal and traced a finger from your clit to your entrance. Gathering the arousal he collected from that simple touch, he put his finger in his mouth and sucked and moaned in approval. 

“You taste so good for me, pretty girl.” 

He stood up and slid off his clothes, his tanned and toned body, his hard cock long and thick. He climbed back onto the bed and hovered over you. 

He placed his hands on your chest, massaging your breasts, making you moan. You didn’t wear a bra, so he felt your nipples harden and groaned in approval. 

He slid your top up, exposed your breasts, took one nipple in his mouth and began to suck gently. He then picked up his pace and started to bite and tug at your hardened nipples. 

You tried so hard to keep your mouth shut, but his mouth felt so good. You let out a soft moan. This didn’t go undetected by him. He slapped your now exposed clit. Your hips thrust up in response. 

His mouth left your chest, and he moved his mouth to your dripping cunt. He started kissing your inner thighs, darting his tongue out and licking every part of you except your aching cunt. 

You tried to move in an attempt to get his mouth onto your pussy. He slapped your clit again, except this time, he followed it up by inserting his long finger inside your pussy. You tried to suppress a moan, but it was too much, and you needed him to fuck you senseless. 

“Baby girl, I see that you just don’t want to listen,” he said as he inserted another digit. He curled his fingers upright against your g-spot and started moving his wrist up and down. “So make all the noise you want, but you cannot cum.” 

He continued his relentless pace and assault on your pussy. He leaned his head down and finally put his tongue on your clit, and you thought you were going to cum right then and there. 

His tongue flicked at your clit, before he enclosed his mouth on it, and you lost it. You couldn’t control it, and you came undone on his tongue and fingers. Joshua growled at your release but didn’t ease up on his movements and kept sucking at your now over-sensitive clit.

He removed his mouth from your pussy, but he didn’t ease up with his fingers. He added a third digit and fucked you until you squirted onto his hands. It wasn’t long before the overstimulation turned into pleasure, and you found yourself cumming on his tongue. 

You didn’t know how he could make you come undone so quickly and easily. You were shaking and trembling, tears of pleasure rolling down your face. 

You couldn’t even coherently mumble out a word or move. You felt so good, and your pussy was still throbbing, and yet you ached for more. 

Without letting you get more than a minute to recover, Joshua pushed his length inside you. He let out a growl and proceeded to fuck you, setting a relentless pace. He fucked you hard and fast, his thick cock hitting the right spots each time. He pulled out of you, and you moaned at the loss of contact.

He pushed himself into your dripping and aching pussy. At this point, he was just chasing his release. You finally used your arms to hold onto his broad shoulders as he fucked you into the sheets, your legs wrapped around his waist, allowing him to go deeper. 

He was close. You could tell by the way his thrusts got more uneven. To tease him further, you clenched your pussy around his cock. 

Oh, he was pissed. 

“Baby girl, is that hard for you to listen?” His hand went to your neck, gently choking you, and he continued fucking you. The breath play only made you reach your high again, and he wasn’t far off either.

He came inside your pussy and stayed still for a little bit. Then pulled out gently, not letting his cum spill out. He moved his body down yours until his mouth reached yours again and stuck his tongue into your cunt and lapped at it until you came again, and he cleaned his cum out from you. 

Swallowing, he moved up and pulled you into his arms, and you both lay on the bed. 

“How are you, baby? I hope it wasn’t too much for you.”

“Was so good.” You were still basking in the afterglow of your session. 

~~

You woke up later that night feeling rather hungry. 

Sex does that, you assumed. You noticed Joshua was awake and scrolling through his phone. 

“Hey, do you want to grab a bite or something? I’m starving,” you asked, and Joshua sighed, taking a sip of the water you left by the bedside. 

“This was a hookup, Y/N; please don’t read into it,” Joshua answered bluntly, and you stood up and walked to find his clothes and threw them at him. 

“It was a fucking question, Joshua!” you yelled. 

“I know not to hope with you anymore, but I can’t help if my heart doesn’t want to listen. But tonight, you showed me that you’re done, so I want you out,” you snarled, and Joshua nodded, getting dressed quickly and walking out of your door and crushing your heart again. 

~~

But that night was long gone, and so was he. 

~~

You noticed a heavily decorated envelope sitting on your desk later that evening. You must have collected the mail and not bothered sorting through it. You opened the envelope and held your breath when you saw an invite to Joshua’s wedding. 

Joshua weds Yuri the card read, and for once, you felt pain, but unlike the past, it felt dull. It didn’t feel like you were being stabbed in the heart. 

You RSVPed as soon as possible. You wanted to go. 

So, you did. You watched the ceremony, and the happy couple exchanged their vows, and you approached Joshua to talk outside after the reception. 

“I need to talk to you. I didn’t invite you to hurt you. I invited you because you’re a friend,” he started to say, and you nodded. 

“Then, as a friend, I need you to listen to me one last time,” you pleaded. 

Joshua nodded as he sat down on the bench outside the castle, his actions reminiscent of the time you confessed to him, but this time, it’d be different because you were different. Everything was different now. 

“Look, thank you for being so brave throughout the wedding. I know it couldn’t have been easy,” Joshua started to say.

You had to take a deep breath to not scoff at his words. Did he still think you were in love with him after all these years?

Truthfully, you will always love him. He was your first love. How could you ever forget him? How could you forget the nights when he’d pleasure you and look at you like you were the only one in the world? But more importantly, how could you forget the nights when he held you while you cried, wiped away every tear and kissed away every insecurity? How could you forget the boy who made you feel beautiful for the first time? 

But most importantly, how could you ever be the boy who kept breaking your heart repeatedly, and yet you kept forgiving him because you hoped that one day he’d wake up and realise that he loved you too? 

But it was too late for all of that. 

You were standing at his wedding, well outside the chapel, and you watched the entire night as Joshua exchanged his vows with someone who was not you. Your eyes moved to his left hand and zeroed in on the gold band that adorned his long finger, his ring finger. The finger that he’d always leave empty when he wore jewellery because he said he was saving it for someone special, and tonight, he finally found that someone special. 

You could never forget Joshua. But it had been ten years, and now you could look at him with a mixture of feelings, hurt, regret, and a multitude of negative emotions. But tonight, what consumed you wasn’t all bad. You also felt free. 

Tonight, Joshua gave his word to be with Yuri for the rest of his life and vowed never to leave her, and all while doing that, you felt the shackles of being bound to him loosening. 

“I was about to confess to you after graduation seven years ago. I wanted to tell you that I loved you. Not that I think I needed to, I was babbling away how perfect you were, but then she came, and I felt like no matter what I did, there would never be a right time to tell you I love you,” you sighed, smiling at him. 

“Over the years, I took it as a sign from the universe; maybe it protected me because the universe knew you’d never love me back, not how I did. After that hookup at the hotel, I said we should grab a bite. The first thing you said to me was that I shouldn’t mistake a hookup for feelings and that Joshua was when I realised that there would be no universe where you’d be mine,” you explained, making Joshua’s expression harden. 

“This is my wedding night; I do not need to hear you say something shitty to me on what is the happiest day of my life,” he started to say, raising his voice, and you sighed, sitting down next to him. 

“Let me finish,” you said, and Joshua pouted before nodding. “I’m not blaming you, Joshua. Yes, did we do stupid things that made me overthink and convince myself I had a chance, even if it was a glimmer of hope? Sure. But, all you ever were to me was a friend; you were my best friend, and you carried out your duties as a friend,” you explained, placing a hand on his, making him look at you. 

“I fell in love with you, Joshua, but that’s not on you. I fell for the tall, gangly boy I met when I was 18, putting you on a pedestal and myself on the back burner. But tonight… Watching you getting married and exchanging your vows didn’t hurt the way I expected it to. It felt liberating,” you continued, making Joshua sigh as he withdrew his hand from you. 

“We grew apart a lot, and it helped. It helped me think of you less, and over time, I guess I stopped being in love with you. And tonight, something clicked,” you said, turning to Joshua, who had an unreadable expression. 

“What was that?” Joshua asked. 

“I fell out of love with you, Joshua. I’ll always care for you, and hell, I’ll always love you, but Joshua, I’m no longer in love with you,” you admitted. 

It was true. 

Ten years ago, you tied an invisible string and pulled Joshua into your heart, where he stayed for ten years. He broke your heart so many times. Still, you kept him in there, holding onto hope. But tonight, when he said, “I do”, you felt that string lose its strength, inevitably weighed down and frayed over the last ten years, and tonight, it didn’t snap. It just—like your love—let go. 

You let go of Joshua, and in turn, you set yourself free. Free from the ‘what ifs’, the nights where you’d cry into your pillow, wishing you were in his arms at night, but you weren’t awake. You laid awake at night thinking of him for so many years, and you felt like you could finally let go tonight. 

“You will always have a special place in my heart, but how I loved you was dangerous and harmful. I put you above everyone and myself. I lost myself loving you, and I lost myself trying to be the girl you could love. But over the years and growing up, I realised that sometimes, it’s just not meant to be. And fuck, ten years ago, or even five years ago, that sentiment, the meant-to-be bullshit, would fuck me off, but tonight, I get it,” you explained, feeling tears of relief pool in your eyes. 

“I loved you deeply and immensely, but it didn’t work out, and that’s fine because I learned one thing, I’m capable of loving, and one day, I know I’ll get that love back, the kind of love I had for you, undying and unyielding,” you finished off looking at Joshua who smiled sadly at you. 

“When did you grow up so much?” Joshua chuckled, his voice thick with emotion. 

You smiled at him and shrugged.

“Time heals everything, Joshua. I want the best for you. I do. I want you to have the most amazing married life. Never break her heart. Never go to bed mad at each other. Always tell each other you love each other,” you babbled until you felt a tug on your hand, making you look at Joshua. 

“I couldn’t force myself to love you the way you loved me, and I won’t say I’m sorry for that, but I’m sorry for hurting you, seeking comfort in you for my selfish needs. You’re so special to me. You were my first friend in university; we have a history, and I want us to maintain that friendship. I want us to grow old as friends and laugh about this memory while we bitch about how annoying our spouses can be,” Joshua said, making you laugh. 

It was an honest laugh. It wasn’t forced. It was real. You were healing. 

“I’ll take you up on that, but tonight, I’m setting myself free, and you, Joshua, congratulations,” you said, standing up and holding out your arms for a hug. 

Joshua smiled softly at you as he pulled you into a hug, and you felt like your broken parts were being squished tightly together and being fixed, but you didn’t need to be fixed. 

You just needed to heal. 

~~

You kicked off your heels as you entered your apartment later that night, smiling. You didn’t feel broken or upset; you felt free.

Your eyes zeroed in on the notice board in your living room, where you had put up pictures of special people in your life. 

You looked at the one you had of Joshua. You took it one night, probably in your first year of university when you started falling in love with him. But it was just him. All the other photos you had with your friends were selfies of you and your friend. Only Joshua was solo, in a way; you kept it that way for so long because, for so long, you held on to the hope that he would one day love you back, and then you could stick a couple’s selfie there. 

You smiled at his photo. 

Taking a deep breath, you leaned forward, pulled his photo off your notice board, and replaced it with the Polaroid from the wedding. It was one the happy couple sent out to everyone. 

You smiled at the photo in your hand. Joshua would always be that story you could tell ten years later, but tonight, for the first time in a long while, you could sleep without agonising over the ‘what ifs.’ You locked away Joshua’s picture in a drawer where you knew you couldn’t find it even if you tried. 

You smiled again at the photo of him and Yuri as you turned around and got ready to sleep. For the first time in a long time, as you lay in bed that night, you didn’t punish yourself, thinking you weren’t enough, assuming you missed every moment. You went to bed knowing that you had a great love. It just wasn’t a perfect love story.

But it was okay.

And you would be, too.  

[theflashjaygarrick]

So you've heard about the DC Absolute Universe and you're wondering what it is all about.

While details about Absolute DC is still coming out, I decided it might be useful to make a breakdown of what we know so far (mostly from SDCC).

DC Absolute Universe Breakdown:

The Absolute universe is a new alternate universe influenced by Darkseid energy. It is a 'darker' universe where all the heroes have lost something key to their Earth 0 selves which leaves them as underdogs. While separate to the main universe it will link in through the events of the All In initiative. There doesn't seem to be many superhero teams yet, but a lot of iconic heroes have had their own solo series' announced:

Absolute Batman (By Scott Snyder and Nick Dragotta):

The series brave enough to ask...what if Batman was an absolute unit. This is a Batman with no money and no status as the Prince of Gotham. Instead he is a construction worker and city engineer who has turned himself and his costume into an absolute weapon. He has an adorable French Bulldog and is also apparently blonde.

This Bruce Wayne never had a butler but there still is an Alfred in the Absolute Universe: Alfred "Penny", the grizzled and tired MI-6 spy. They seemingly meet for the first time when Bruce has already began his caped crusade against crime (and the series' confirmed big bad Black Mask)

Bonus: The Jim Lee variant cover gives us a better look at his costume's armoured texture and one of his weapons. He's seemingly more of a heavy hitter than the Batman we know.

Absolute Wonder Woman (By Kelley Thompson and Hayden Sherman):

This Wonder Woman was raised not in Paradise Island but rather in The Underworld. She has no sisters and no quest for peace. Instead she is the last of the Amazons who becomes a warrior and a witch, and eventually the Absolute Universe's first superhero. She is more heavily armed, carries a massive sword, and flies around on a skeletal pegasus made of iron.

Unlike her Earth counterpart who is notable for not wearing a mask, this Wonder Woman seemingly has two, including a rather demonic looking helmet. Also, her colour scheme is based less on the American flag and more on the idea of lava under rocks.

She also has a Jim Lee variant cover which suggests she also will have a lasso.

Absolute Superman (By Jason Aaron and Rafa Sandoval):

Superman is the member of the trinity we know the least about. He is supposed to be more alien (suggested by his glowing red arms and the fact the cape seems to be made of pure energy) and according to the solicitation is "Without the fortress... without the family... without a home" but honestly we don't know much more.

We do have some cool art though (including another Jim Lee Variant):

Absolute Green Lantern (By Al Ewing and Jahnoy Linsday)

Absolute Green Lantern is a "first contact" story and "reimagining" of the Green Lantern mythos featuring Jo Mullein, Hal Jordan, and John Stewart. We have some cool concept art of it including a redesign of Jo that suggests the lanterns might be in civilian clothing illuminated green.

Absolute Flash (By Jeff Lemire and Nick Robles)

This is the book we know the least about. All we really can infer apart from the creative team is that the Flash is presumably Wally West and that he appears to be more tortured character than in most other iterations.

(Shout out to Bleeding Cool for posting photos of the SDCC slides for people who weren't there)

[fruitlicense]

I think I’ve figured out my favorite chemistry for the DC Trinity, as follows:

Superman and Wonder Woman are the kind of friends who treat each other like siblings, but they 100% mean it. They laugh, they hug, they get at least one meal together every week, they occasionally finish each other’s sentences, and when they’re in the same room you can tell they genuinely like each other. They know each other like siblings, too - one won’t know every detail about the other, but they can pull out years-old esoteric stories that no one else had any idea even happened, and they each have a keen sense of who the other is deep down. Clark and Diana know each other’s dreams, fears, and morals, and that trust is visible. The only thing that tells you they’re not actually related is that when they disagree, they argue like well-adjusted adults, without any psychological manipulation or maiming. Sparring is a bonding activity for them, not a way to express anger.

Wonder Woman and Batman have a bond that is entirely platonic but mind-bogglingly deep. They should have the kind of relationship where it’s perfectly normal for them to shower together after a mission and discuss what the Justice League’s next steps should be, but if you point out that it’s kind of weird for them to share a showerhead and a shampoo bottle they’ll act like you’re weird for pointing it out. Bruce is washing blood and concrete dust out of Diana’s hair. There are no sexual or romantic vibes whatsoever. They’re at a level where it’s almost like they’re two halves of the same mind, like if they got into some crazy magic mishap where they were sharing a body it would move like a well-oiled machine. Even when they disagree or argue it seems like a single entity having an internal battle. They have crazy trust, like knowing-every-corner-of-the-other’s-brain trust, to the point that the greatest way to show their affection to each other is allowing each other their secrets. Bruce doesn’t pry past Diana’s hard lines and she knows when to stop pushing him, and those boundaries are honored because literally all the others are gone.

Batman and Superman, however, have inexplicable vibes. At a glance they act like coworkers, or like good friends, but if you look longer than thirty seconds there’s something between them that’s tangible enough to cut - it’s also weirdly horny and literally no one else wants to get involved with it. You could walk into a room where Clark was making coffee and Bruce was doing paperwork and they weren’t talking to or looking at each other and you would feel like you were intruding on their marriage bed. They keep up the same level of professionalism with each other that they do with the rest of the Justice League but they might as well not fucking bother, because somehow it still seems like they’re incapable of not broadcasting that they want each other carnally. They also have a deep level of trust, but it’s not familial or platonic. It’s more like the kind you have with someone you’re so deeply in love with that you can’t fathom not sharing your entire self with them. The world could end in burning flames and they’d survive it without going insane as long as they had each other. No one is actually sure if they’ve ever acted on these feelings, or if they’re even aware that they have them.

All three of them would burn the world down for each other, obviously, so it’s a damn good thing they’re saving it instead.