#trying to empty it a lil bit lol

[mantimae]

In your heart is up to four eggs

🥚 🥚 🥚 🥚

[storfulsten]

Whitty And Bf Personality Swap? Lovely Art By The Way, Truly Inspiring. ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

hm I guess k, not feeling the most creative but here lol

idk lol

mostly based on this bc idk thought the vibes looked fitting in theory lmao:

[madamechrissy]

Yandere Bully! Satoru

More bully Gojo content here and here

Pairings- Bully Gojo x fem reader- college age

MDNI-drabble, not proofread lol, just was in my head ahhh- Satoru being an asshole, teasing, edging, panty fucking, Satoru cumming a lot, he's being jealous and crazy tbh, torturing reader a lil bit- TY FOR 8k followers btw !! <3

Bully! Satoru is furious that you've decided to flirt right in front of him, so shamelessly too. Your fingers are darting across no other than Nanami Kento's broad shoulder as you giggle in the hallway between classes, his blue eyes narrow and his jaw locks then.

Bully! Satoru drags you in the nearest classroom, and your eyes light up, he chuckles then, you must think it's the usual, he gets mad at you, fingers in your pretty pussy, likely have his cock down your throat, every time you piss him off he loves to gag you, but no he has an entirely different idea.

Bully! Satoru grips you by the hair on the nape of your neck, bending low, as your heart pounds in your chest. 'Ya think flirting with another guy is okay when you're mine!?' you laugh then, shaking your head, even as you bite your lower lip, holding in a whimper as he spreads your thighs, touching you over your little hello kitty panties, smirking as he stares. 'We still don't even date, so I can do what I want- mnh!'

Bully! Satoru begins rubbing you over your panties harder, they're damp and sticky when he pulls his pretty cock out, pink tip already drooling for you, and your cunt clenches around nothing in anticipation. Truly, you love pissing him off. 'You know you're mine, no one else can touch you, fuck you're soaked, pathetic' you scowl up at him, as he now rubs the tip of his cock along the soaked line of your panties, pressing the damp cotton against your clit. 'could cum from just this, so fuckin' slutty lately, huh?'

Bully! Satoru has you at a loss for words now, as he keeps stroking, you try to touch him, so he grips you by your throat, pressing your down, then sliding a finger down your soaked cunt, pressing his cock against the puffy lips of your pussy. 'Gonna make you beg, slutty little brat' he mutters, and you already are, earning his laugh, his taunts 'aw, already gonna cum? from this?' he presses his tip against your clit, covering your mouth before you scream out, yanking away, leaving you in tears. 'so pretty crying f'me, look at you'

Bully! Satoru isn't quite done teaching you a lesson, first off only he can touch you and only he can pick on you, so he figures the middle of the day is the perfect time. He fucks you over your panties, cotton stretching and damn near tearing as you cry out, trying to get more, as he fucks that soppy wet material deeper, while you ache so badly for him. 'got something to say, huh?' he lifts his hands now, sinking his tip back under your panties again, you're so soaked that each stroke echoes in the empty class.

Bully! Satoru smirks when you beg 'p-please, fuck me... I'm s-sorry...' he laughs now, putting your ruined panties over your cunt, holding you down on the wood desk as he keeps stroking his cock between your slick folds, so hot as your hips arch, crumbling the material of your pleated skirt. 'Please, Toru...' the nickname almost gets him, but his icy blue eyes glare now, his lips in a terse line as he continues stroking and stroking, but never entering your soppy, eager hole. 'nah, sweets, teaching you a real lesson, hmm?'

Bully! Satoru busts inside your panties with a moan, leaning over you and almost kissing you, lips hovering as his milky seed squirts all over your clit, your folds, your hole, and you're shivering with need, on edge, feeling him so hot on you. 'Toru please, for a second!?' you plead, he moans then, as he rubs his sensitive tip, leaning back and looking at the mess he made. 'you're so pretty like this, crying, begging, covered in my cum... oh sweetheart...' he clicks his tongue as he wipes the rest of his leaky tip against your trembling thighs, eyeing the mess of all his cum poured on your perfect pussy.

Bully! Satoru puts your ruined panties back on your pussy, chuckling deviously as he presses them firm on his cum, and you're shivering at the cool shock, lips parted when he puts himself up, pulling you back up to sit and adjusting your skirt, before wiping your tears. 'now, you can spend all day with my cum in your panties, all sticky and let it dry right up, so you know who the fuck you belong to, hmm?' you shake your head, trembling hands pulling at his letterman's jacket, he smiles at how adorable you are. 'do it all day, and I'll take care of you later, like a good girl for once, hmm?'

Bully! Satoru can't help but chuckle when he watches you in class, shifting uncomfortably, glaring at him every few seconds, cock already aching to fill you so good later, when you've learned your lesson.

He's a menace tbh- poor reader- lmk if you wanna see his crazy ass again lol -disclaimer- bullying isn't cool IRL only if it's Gojo <3

Perm Tags- @alt--er--love @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @tojicvmslut @cvixmei @mutsu422 @g00seg1rl @ivyvenus333 @suki91 @strychnynegirl @naomi-main also- @rottmntrulesall (requested hehe)

[thekinslayed]

Show Me Your World - (Edge of Desire Special Chapter)

summary | Glimpses of your ever blossoming marriage with Aemond, through the eyes of people around you.

pairing | aemond targaryen x niece!reader

tags | teeth rotting fluff! ooc aemond, mentions of oral (f), ooc criston lol, alicole tease idc sue me, third pov (?), pure marital bliss

song rec | My Kind of Woman - Mac Demarco

wordcount | 3.8k

note | surprise! this is my lil thank you gift for 2k hehe this isn't necessarily a pt 2, but Edge of Desire has received soo much love and i want to try and give even just a little bit back!

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

There was no doubt that the marriage of princess Rhaenyra’s only daughter to the king’s second son caused much worry from the court. The strife between the Hightowers and the Targaryens was no secret, festering into a nasty, outward conflict that ended in a boy maimed, and a family divided by sea. Viserys the Peaceful, ever faithful to his name, sought to mend this rift. 

In the moons following their marriage, it was plain to see the princess and the one-eyed prince rarely agreed with each other. A womb bearing no fruit, eyes rarely meeting, and twin frowns often decorating their features. The concerns aptly only grew. But then, something had shifted in the air.

The princess grew to be exuberant, practically glowing as her belly swelled with child. There was rarely a moment the prince was not found by her side, save for when he was training in the Keep’s yard, and even then, his ladywife was sure to be found on the castle’s balcony with a pleased smile on her face. Whispers of concern soon turned into that of courtly gossip, nobles and staff alike most eager to discover the secret in the couple’s newfound bliss. Many strained their neck to catch a glimpse of the two royals at court, keeping a close eye to notice any indication of a display of affection, though none of them ever did. The prince stood as stoic as ever, while you took your place beside him, hands clasped over your growing bump. Save for the communicative looks you exchanged now and then, the signs of a budding romance between the two of you were sparse. 

It was rather odd. Such whispers from the servants would make it seem that the prince had somehow taken on a persona straight from their mother’s tales about love, like a dashing knight head over heels for his princess, but none of them ever caught such a glimpse. All except for one. 

Sera was no significant person among the residents of the Red Keep. She was a servant, tasked with changing linens, emptying chamber pots, and seeing that the more valued inhabitants of the castle were satisfied. Any ounce of value in her low rank only came when she was made handmaiden to the princess. Stepping up to her new position, she would admit that she was quite curious. What she heard about your marriage piqued her interest, even more so when she began to step into the space that separated the royals from the lowborns. 

In your private marital chambers, the whispers began to take form, proving themselves to be true. It became customary for her to hear the rhythmic thump, thump, thump coming from your bedchamber while she set up your morning meals in the solar. High-pitched moans would penetrate through the red brick, bringing about a hot flush in the young woman’s cheeks as she hastened to lay down the cutlery before scurrying off. Sera remained invisible, merely a shadow that passed through your life, invisible hands that aided in your day. She knew her place, especially when prince Aemond was in the room while she assisted the princess. 

Once the copper tub was filled for your bath, she must make her leave in haste with one flick of the prince’s wrist.

When your husband started to approach your seated form upon the vanity as you readied for the day, Sera knew better and would step away so the one-eyed prince may inhabit your space, no matter the intricacy of the braids she was twisting your hair into. Averting her eyes, the servant could only listen to your dreamy sighs as your husband peppered kisses onto every bit of skin his lips could find.

Did it make her work lighter? Perhaps. It helped to serve two royals who wanted little but each other, who were never cruel or harsh with their tongue. It was odd to say such sentiments for what the court knew as the cold, rigid one-eyed prince, but marriage had changed much of him.

He was always handsome, despite the scar and the menacing glint in his good eye. The fearful aura he exuded in his stride made any good woman weak in the knees, coupled with that sleek, soft hair the shade of moonlight, and his lithe, tall form. Prince Aemond was far more fancied by the young maidens that served as the keep’s staff, Sera included. 

It was a particularly beautiful morn when she realized this. The spring breeze brought about a lightness through the castle, while the early morning sun beamed with hope for warmth after winter’s end. Sera made her way through Maegor’s Holdfast, her feet taking a mind of its own as it led her to your chambers. She had been at your service for a few moons at this point, a routine suitably established with time and experience. 

As she was granted entry by the White Cloak at your door, she made quick work to draw every curtain open, before making her way to the bedchamber. You must be awakened soon, and with a light knock, Sera was answered with a sleepy hum that indicated your rise.

However, such disruptions to one’s routine should always be expected. When she turned the doorknob with a soft greeting on her lips, Sera was taken aback by the sight that met her. You were, indeed, freshly awake, eyes half-lidded and hair aptly messed from the sheets, but with the addition of your husband’s kneeling form in between your thighs. His silver hair was loose, draped over his sculpted back as you gripped them in between your fingers. Neither of you seemed to notice the intruder, clearly lost in the dizzy haze of your pleasure as your hips continued to cant against Aemond’s face. It was her stunned gasp that made Sera’s presence known. For the first time, she had gotten too close, had touched the bubble that encased the couple in their marital bliss, and now it had burst. 

Both royals snapped their heads towards the door, but it was prince Aemond that made her heart beat erratically in her chest. He was without his eyepatch, nor his clean updo that kept his mane out of his face, nor a tunic or any clothing for that matter. The dazzling sapphire glinted in the morning sun, drawing her into its tantalizing spell. It was a good thing her eyes stayed there, never drifting downward to the other treasure in between his legs for the scowl on Aemond’s face made his displeasure known.

“Out,” was all he said, sending poor Sera scurrying out of the room. You would apologize to her later in the day, giving her clammy hand a soft squeeze with nothing but gentleness in your face. 

“Whatever happened to you?” Elara had asked her upon her return to the servant’s wing. The younger girl’s brows furrowed in confusion and slight worry at the beet-red flush on Sera’s face. Unlike her acquaintance, Elara’s experience with serving prince Aegon was nothing short of harrowing, and such a reaction on Sera was enough to have her assuming the worst. “Were you harmed?”

“No, no! Hells, I–” Sera stammered. When did she begin to perspire so much? Her nape was damp with flustered sweat from the aftermath of such embarrassment. Detailing the moments of her eventful morning was a struggle, even more so when Elara burst out giggling in her face. Sera slapped her hands over her face, groaning. “The prince wasn’t supposed to be there so late. He would be off to the yard with Ser Cole at this hour!”

The young blonde shook her head in amusement, hands still busy with folding linens. “Gods, the princess is a lucky one, isn’t she? Prince Aemond seems like a total dreamboat compared to his brother.” She leaned closer to Sera, whispering. “Did you see his—?” 

“His what?” she replied, not fully understanding the cryptic tilt of her head and the smirk on her face.

“Well, you know… his High Tower!”

Both girls erupted into a fit of laughter, though old Hilda wasn’t too happy with their slacking off. 

The second time Sera had found herself bestowed another close glimpse of the couple was during the hour of the owl. You were only a few days away from term, and the maester had you isolated for the rites of seclusion prior to your labors. Aemond, in an isolated state of his own, was forbidden to visit you even in daylight for propriety’s sake. Your marital chambers never felt so empty, with your absence ridding it of any life that came with your mere presence.

It was a miserable affair, both for you and your husband. Sera had seen how the separation was affecting her princess. You were lonely, weary from the aches of your belly, and losing your appetite from the desolate state of your chambers. It had her worried, even more so when word of your husband’s anxious state reached her ears. She ought to do something, but she had little power over the order of the maesters, even more so when it was approved by the queen herself. 

Perhaps it was by fate when one night, she… forgot to close the door firmly behind her when she was granted her leave for the evening. It granted the prince entry, after many nights of pacing through the halls for any chance to slip into his wife’s chambers without being detected. She stayed in the shadows of an alcove, counting the minutes until she heard the familiar gait of the one-eyed prince taking the path she had just passed. 

She couldn’t help herself. With featherlight steps, Sera tiptoed back to your door, peeking through the slight crack left ajar. What she saw almost had her thinking it was a repeat of that one morning, but it was something far more intimate.

There he was, the one-eyed prince Aemond, kneeling before your seated form like a devotee. His face was nuzzled into your lap, his arms wrapped around the swollen bump that housed your offspring. Your hands rubbed down his back soothingly, while your cheeks glistened under the dim light of your chambers. Tears of happiness, Sera realized. Like always, your husband peppered kisses all over— your hands, your belly, even on the swell of your bosom that threatened to spill from your garments.

It was nothing debauched, nor depraved, but filled with far more passion than she had ever seen in her young life. She had never seen two souls so profoundly intertwined, deep into the throes of your love in a way that seemed unfathomable in this cruel life. It was no fairytale, but very much real. 

He looked unrecognizable like this, with a face so peaceful and a touch so gentle. His thin lips moved with words inaudible to Sera’s ears, but the way your face glowed brighter than it had been for these past days made the young girl’s chest swell with a yearning for something of her own. She could only pray that her princess would only find happiness in her marriage, and that the gods would grant herself a love that could be half as full as yours.

Prince Aemond was no man of big gestures. He was not one to scream his love from the rooftops, nor wear his heart on his sleeve, but with his forehead pressed into your bump, Sera learned that whispers of a true love were far greater than proclamations of folly.

Criston Cole did not believe in love. It was a fool’s wish. The only time he had gotten close to dabbling into the idea of it had left him broken, honor sullied for a princess who returned little of what he had given. Rhaenyra was a thorn in his past, and her bastards were a blatant reminder of his divulgence into her trap. Hence, his apprehension upon the news of the marriage of the heir’s only daughter to Alicent’s thirdborn. 

What was he to say? To do? Nothing. Criston had overstepped his bounds once and it had ended with his white cloak dirtied and his sanity balanced on the tip of his sword. This match was doomed to fail, he had no doubt of it, but he kept his mouth shut. The Dornishman was quite famed for his good swordsmanship, and his humble beginnings, but especially more so of his handsome looks. Olive skin, luscious dark locks, and wide brown orbs that glimmered like topaz under the southern sun. Those eyes held less composure than the rest of his face. They were a window of his thoughts, and they spoke of the words his tongue held back. Cole’s contempt for Rhaenyra’s blood was ever evident in the sharp gaze he threw your way. You were of your mother’s sin, yet you walked in these halls as if though you were anything but a blaring reminder of it. 

Criston knew of Aemond’s nature. He had spent many hours honing the young prince’s skills with a sword, had taken him and his mother to the Sept for their prayers. Cole had even held him while he writhed in pain when the maester took out the stitches of his slashed eye. The second prince shared his disdain for Rhaenyra and her brood, perhaps even more so than the knight himself. And so, he was well aware that Aemond found no positives in his marriage. 

For a while, the knight believed the younger to share such sentiments, but the stories of your blossoming marriage had filtered through the Keep, inevitably reaching the ears of the White Sword Tower. His response was nothing but a scoff. Criston did not consider himself a believer of such change, but when he began to see it for himself, his views faltered. 

Namedays of the royal family were always celebrated with grandeur and splendor. Helaena’s twins had just turned five, and the court had taken to the Kingswood for the royal hunt. It was a splendid affair, the young babes garnering much attention from the guests. Aegon, surprisingly enough, was enthusiastically present for his children. The elder held much love for his children, and it made for an endearing sight to see. This had lightened the attention on prince Aemond and his ladywife, who were bound to be parents of their own.

The news of your pregnancy had garnered much praise and well wishes from the court, and before you even began to grow round with child, all eyes were constantly on you and Aemond. Though that night, you had been granted reprieve. 

Cole stood beside the queen Alicent as she sat, ever faithfully upholding his duty. It was customary for him to scan the room constantly, keeping himself aware of any potential threat to his queen. There he found prince Aemond and his ladywife, secluded in their own little corner of the royal tent.

You had whispered something into Aemond’s ear with a cherubic smile, before covering your mouth with a ringed hand as giggles spilled from your lips. The knight fought back the urge to roll his dark, chocolate orbs at such a display, knowing the second prince well enough that such behavior did not bode well with him. 

Yet, he found himself mistaken. In the dim amber glow of the royal pavilion, it was easy to overlook the way Aemond’s silver tresses swayed as his head bowed followed by the most peculiar sight. The leather of his doublet moved up and down as his shoulders shook. Criston may have been granted only the sight of the prince’s back, but it was plain enough to see.

He was laughing. 

In all his years serving the Hightowers, the most he had ever seen from Aemond was a smirk, or a dark chuckle when he bested his mentor while they trained. Cole believed his eyes to be deceiving him, but the pleased look on your face and the bubbling laughter that echoed through the night was testament enough that you had the power to loosen the prince’s otherwise rigid grip on his composure. You were stuck to his side, heads huddled together as you whispered about gods know what. It might have been the wine or the warmth exuded by the torches littered about, but your cheeks were flushed like a rose. 

Beyond his conscience, the sight had pulled a smile of his own. Something akin to elation sweltered in the knight’s chest. It pleased him to see the prince so relaxed, free from the tension he always carried. Criston would have you to thank for it. 

Beside him, Alicent was looking at him as though he had grown a second head. Her sworn shield seldom found things that amused him, and even then, it was rather disturbing to her. “What amuses you, good ser?” she asked, taking Criston by surprise. His cheeks quickly dropped to his usual formal state, throat clearing to regain his composure. The queen, ever observant followed where his eyes had flickered to. Across from where she sat, her second son held an arm around his wife’s waist, whispering into each other’s ear while sharing a cup of wine. Wide smiles mirrored each other, their gazes focused on no one else but them. The sight made the queen’s cheeks dimple into a small smile, a warmth in her motherly heart filling her with hope. It had been many years ago when Alicent deemed herself cursed by the gods, given a fate so cruel. It had shaken her faith, even more so when it appeared to have trickled down to her children. Aemond had the worst of it— a dragon egg turned to stone, an eye cruelly taken, and a ghost of a father. She feared for what may become of him, with his wrath and fury that seemed to guide his aspirations. Yet now, as she watched her favored son let his wife take his cheek into her hand so publicly, Alicent prayed that the tides were turning for him. Perhaps you might change his fate. Perhaps he might be spared yet. “He’s been quite happy as of late,” Alicent mentioned, turning to Criston. A look filled with mirth equaled that of the Dornishman before her, who nodded in agreement.

“He has, my queen. It pleases me greatly to see the prince so content. The princess brings out the best in him,” Cole replied. They shared smiles of their own, and the knight felt emboldened by the glee they shared. He shuffled ever so closely to her seat, the warmth exuding from her pale flesh emanating through the cold steel of his armor. As they both watched you take Aemond’s hand to lead him out of the pavilion, Criston willed himself to keep his composure as Alicent ever so subtly leaned against his arm.

Criston was present in much of what happens in the royal family. He was there for every nameday, every birth, and every milestone that Alicent’s children had. Albeit, he was in the background, but he was there. It did not change when they became parents themselves, with Helaena and Aegon having three babes, while Aemond and his ladywife were now about to have a child of their own.

Aemond had been an anxious mess all morning. Your labors had begun just as dawn broke, and pursued well through noon. Queen Alicent made her way to your chambers to check on your well-being as soon as the council dispersed, with Cole naturally in tow. Your husband had to be pushed back by several knights as the grand maester forbade him to enter the birthing chamber, fighting to be by your side. Your wails and cries had him distressed, even more so when he could clearly hear you call for him. It was only when his mother arrived did Aemond settle, uneasily staying in the common room as she was permitted to see you in his stead.  “This is her fight, Aemond. You must let them do their work,” Alicent said, planting a soothing kiss on her son’s cheek before entering the birthing chamber. 

His mother’s presence did little to quench his worries, and the one-eyed prince had settled to lean on the windowsill, fists clenched on the stone as his head bowed. From his place by the door, Cole approached him with quiet steps, settling beside his tense form. “She will be alright,” he said. “The princess is strong. A dragon in her own right.” He was responded by only a grunt from the younger, who kept his good eye closed as he steadied his breathing.

It was quiet between the two, just as it always was with Aemond. The only sound in the room was your outcries of pain that only seemed to grow louder by the minute. With a heavy sigh, Aemond spoke. “What did she thank you for?”

“My prince?” Criston asked, confused.

“My wife. When she first arrived from Dragonstone, I heard her whisper her thanks to you, and her apology for having done so too late. What did she have to thank you for?”

Cole huffed a small chuckle at the memory. It was many, many years ago when you were merely a girl. You used to play with Helaena in the gardens so often, especially during the spring afternoons when the butterflies danced above the bushels of flowers. Alicent would find time to watch over the young princesses, with her sworn shield following their tail through the royal gardens.

One afternoon, both girls had been so enthusiastic with the amount of colorful butterflies that flittered about. Helaena had her eyes set on a pretty blue one, crossing the wooden footbridge over the small pond in the middle of the greenery. 

The pair made haste to follow the girls, but you came running back, with a quivering frown. You had clutched onto Criston’s cloak, refusing to cross over the small, wooden bridge. It was littered with frogs from the pond. The tiny green things gave you a fright, and Criston had to carry you in his arms over to where Helaena played in the grass. Your excitement had quickly been restored once your fear was gone, short legs quickly wriggling out of the knight’s grip to rejoin your aunt.

A decade later, you voiced your regrets over your rudeness and thanked Criston for his help on that day.

“It was for something so little that did not require such importance, but the princess was gracious to remember so,” Cole smiled. Aemond’s lips had lifted into a smile of his own at the thought of you, slim cheeks dimpling. 

“She is full of nothing but kindness,” the prince said fondly, straightening his posture with more ease. “I am rather undeserving of it.” Aemond’s response made Cole frown, the elder knight clasping the prince’s shoulder in a fatherly squeeze. 

“The gods have deemed you most deserving of it, Aemond. You were fated for each other. I have witnessed no other pair to have been more well suited in this lifetime, believe me.” Such words were so foreign to leave Cole’s lips, but they held no lie. A shrill cry had then pierced through the air, and Alicent had opened the door with a wide smile on her face. ‘Tis a girl! was her exclaim, and Aemond had rushed off from Criston’s side to see his wife. 

Pleased, the knight stayed in his place, off to the side as the royals celebrated yet a new beginning in their lives.

Criston may not believe in love, nor has he felt it, but he has seen it. 

It could be quite beautiful, he realized. 

[livingund3ad]

[for the last time || в последний раз]

chapter warnings: n/a (damian just rambles a bit on how much he dislikes reader lol)

01. | 02. | » you are here | 04. | 05. | ... |

From the eyes of [ Robin ]

Roughly 20 hours before the events of 01.

The morning was dull and overcast, the pale light filtering through the manor’s tall windows with the insistence of a persistent fog. Damian descended the grand staircase with deliberate, measured steps, his sharp gaze sweeping over the pristine foyer before turning toward the dining room.

Breakfast was always a tedious affair, but tolerable with Alfred’s efficiency. And—most days—endurable by the girl’s silent presence. She would usually be seated already, picking at her plate with the nervousness of a bird, her eyes darting between her food and whatever book she’d brought to the table.

Today, the seat across from him was empty.

“Good Morning, Master Damian,” Alfred greeted, setting down a neatly folded napkin beside his plate. “Eggs, toast, and sliced fruit as usual. Would you prefer tea or coffee this morning?”

“Tea.” Damian slid into his seat, gaze flicking to the empty chair again. “Where’s the girl?”

“The Miss has not made an appearance yet.” Alfred’s brow furrowed as he poured the tea with steady precision. “Have you seen her this morning, sir?”

“No.”

Alfred’s fingers tightened slightly around the teapot before he resumed his usual elegance. “I shall send her a message, then. It’s unlike her to miss breakfast without a word.”

Damian scoffed, already cutting into his food. “Perhaps she finally decided to skip the unnecessary pretenses.”

Alfred’s look was a measured thing, the kind of quiet reproach Damian had grown adept at ignoring. “Very well, Master Damian.”

The room lapsed into silence, punctuated only by the soft clink of silverware against fine china. Alfred moved about with his usual efficiency, though there was a new stiffness to his movements, something Damian noted and promptly dismissed.

Minutes later, Grayson strolled in with all the gracelessness of a man who’d only just dragged himself from bed. His hair was tousled and he was already smiling, as if he expected the world to greet him with the same warmth he poured into it.

“Morning, Damian. Alfred.”

“Good morning, Master Richard,” Alfred replied, setting down another plate.

Damian didn’t bother with a greeting, his attention already straying from the room. He finished his meal quickly and rose from his seat, ignoring the curious glance Grayson shot his way.

“Going somewhere, Lil’ demon?” Dick asked around a mouthful of toast.

“My morning stroll,” Damian replied curtly, already turning toward the hallway. “Try not to do anything foolish while I’m gone.”

The hallways of Wayne Manor were vast and labyrinthine, but Damian knew them all by heart. It was a routine of sorts, to walk them every morning. Familiarity bred comfort, or perhaps it was more a matter of asserting his own existence within these elaborate, yet hollowed walls.

He passed the gallery, a corridor adorned with paintings and photographs from every era of the Wayne family. Damian rarely gave them much thought, but today his steps slowed, eyes narrowing as he studied the long line of frames.

One of the oldest photographs showed Grayson at twelve, smiling with infuriating exuberance beside his father, who looked decidedly uncomfortable with the forced cheer. She was there too, small and stiff at six years old, her posture awkward in a frilly dress that didn’t suit her.

Another photo showed the three of them, with Todd newly added to the lineup. The girl was probably nine, her eyes brighter with her lips curled up into something much genuine, more attuned to the cheerful energy Todd brought with him. Grayson had been fifteen then, already growing into his role as the dutiful eldest.

The progression continued down the line. Jason’s surly adolescence then absence, followed by the portraits with the appearance of Drake, Richard’ steady maturation, to then the doe-eye’s awkward transitions between childhood and whatever she was attempting to be now. And then Damian himself, glaring with unhidden suspicion in his first formal photograph, Bruce’s hand a heavy, yet not an unwelcome weight on his shoulder.

They were all there, framed and preserved like insects under glass.

But there was another photograph Damian hadn’t noticed before as it was placed far up the wall, it's dimensions small that it could easily be overlooked unless one had the stature of a person who'd gone through puberty. It was old, in black and white, the edges faded and worn with time, encased inside an intricate silver frame. It was a photograph of a woman standing alone, her hair elegantly styled, eyes alight with something Damian couldn’t quite define. Curiosity, perhaps. Or amusement.

The initials engraved in the plaque beneath the frame read.

M.W.

He frowned, tilting his head. The girl’s mother? That was unlikely. Her lineage was no secret within these walls, though it was a matter so rarely spoken of that it had taken Damian time to piece it all together. She was Bruce’s blood. His half-sister. Although he could never bring himself to call her that out loud.

Damian regarded the photograph again, his eyes narrowing as he studied the woman’s features with the meticulous scrutiny he applied to all things. The curve of her eyes felt familiar, their shape mirroring the girl’s in a way that left an uneasy knot in his chest.

But there was something wrong about them.

They were bright, yes, yet clouded—somehow. As if some unseen weight pressed upon them, shadowing the edges despite her composed smile. It was a gaze that seemed almost distracted, as though the woman were looking at something far beyond the camera’s lens.

For a moment, Damian felt something like recognition. A restlessness he couldn’t place, an unsettled thread that frayed at the seams of his thoughts. But he dismissed it as quickly as it came.

Whatever ghosts lingered in those eyes were of no consequence to him.

He scoffed, tension coiling in his shoulders. The resemblance, if it existed, was irrelevant. She was soft—fragile in a way that grated against everything he was taught to value. The others spoke of how she’d been indulged: by Grayson, occasionally by Todd before Drake took the mantle of Robin, and even by Pennyworth. Curiously, never by his father. He'd come to realize there was a void there—an absence of interest, as if the girl, his daughter, simply didn’t register.

He would not waste his thoughts on shadows.

She had never earned her place here. Not like he had.

With a huff, Damian turned away from the photograph, his brisk footsteps echoing through the empty hall. Whatever Alfred’s concerns were, they weren’t his. The girl would show herself when she decided to stop hiding away like a coward.

And if she didn’t, well—Damian couldn’t bring himself to care.

Taglist: @kneelforloki

[goosewriting]

Could I get a scenario for joaquin x reader: where the reader is an avenger (she was like a protege to clint and natasha) but her main job was designing the suits and gear for other superheroes that works better with their fighting styles. Sams nickname for her is Sketch.

Sam introduces her to joaquin at Isaiahs gym (she trains there but looks after him on sams behalf). She starts to study joaquin to better understand how to equip his suit. After one of their cases, joaquin wanted to make a note in their sketch book where their designs are but ends up finding a different notebook that are not suit/gear sketches, but sketches of everyday things and most of the sketches are of him. Reader walks in to see joaquin found their personal sketch book and freaks out and becomes a stuttering mess. They end up confessing to each other and please make it extra fluffy. Maybe throw in a kiss or two lol. Sorry if this is long, but I had some inspo and your work has been lovely 😊

Sketch

summary: Joaquín discovers that reader’s sketchbook features a lot of drawings of himself.

relationship: Joaquín Torres x gn!reader

warnings: none, fluff! kisses, maybe secondhand embarrassment lol

word count: 4.2k

A/N: i decided to use ‘sewist’ here as a gender neutral term instead of seamster/seamstress. i also changed it a lil bit so that Sam hasn’t seen the green suit yet. and i added a lil bit more at the end to lead up to the kiss, which i hope you’ll like!<3 tysm for requesting, this was such an adorable ask,, it took form in my mind almost immediately and i kept squealing at how tooth-rottingly fluffy this one would be 🙈🙈

[all masterlists] 🪶 [mcu masterlist] 🪶 [ao3]

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

For years, you’ve been in the Avengers’ orbit, helping out by designing their costumes and fighting at their side. After coming back from the blip and getting the news that many of your friends were gone, you decided to fully go into the designing side of helping out all heroes. You’ve made countless garments and weapons of all shapes, sizes and materials.

So while you still keep up with your training, these days you consider yourself more of a sewist and tinkerer than anything else. You mainly hang out with Sam, who introduced you to Isaiah Bradley, one of the few super soldiers still alive from back in the day. He’s let you claim one of the empty offices of his gym as your workspace. You like working there while there’s background noise, be it music or other people training in the ring or with the equipment.

In exchange for using the gym as your base of operation of sorts, you help Sam take care of Isaiah by taking walks with him and making sure he’s eating properly. He may not be physically frail for his age, given the serum, but he’s as stubborn as he’s strong. Since he’s gotten a bit of a soft spot for you over time, you try your best to keep him busy and content. 

One day, Sam comes in with someone new. From where you sit in your office, which has a window to the main training area, you see your friend approach with someone you don’t know, so you get up and approach them. Immediately you come to the realisation that this new guy is extremely handsome and charming. 

“This is Joaquín,” Sam introduces him. 

“Joaquín Torres, Air Force Captain,” he says, stretching out his hand to you. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

“And this is Sketch,” Sam continues, pointing to you. 

“Sketch?” Joaquín asks with a slight tilt of his head. You chuckle and tell him your name, shaking his hand. 

“That’s just what Sam calls me,” you explain with a smile. 

“Yeah, well, you’re sketching in your book all the time,” he says and elbows your side playfully, then turns back to Joaquín to tell him how you’ve helped design most of the outfits everyone has worn over the years, including his new Captain America suit. 

“That’s impressive,” Joaquín says with raised brows and looks at you. A slight heat erupts on your face at the earnest look in his eyes. “Sam was so kind to let me have his old Falcon suit. You think I could run some ideas by you?”

“Of course,” you offer, pointing to your office. “Come by any time.” 

From that day on, Joaquín drops by the gym several times a week, with or without Sam. He mainly uses the time to train with Isaiah, but he also enjoys visiting you and watching you work, chatting about anything and everything while you sew away. 

One morning he comes in to train, and from where you sit at your desk, you can see Joaquín at one of the treadmills. Despite your best efforts, your eyes keep drifting to his figure doing some cardio, with his back to you. At one point he changes to another machine, where he pulls a bar up and down, with the weights lifting and sinking behind him, sitting so that he’s facing your office. Again, you find your gaze drifting to the window instead of focusing on the work on your desk. Risking taking a proper look, you lift your eyes and look to the side. To your surprise and shock, you find him looking at you as well. Both of you are quick to avert your eyes, cheeks prickling with heat. 

That afternoon, you come out of the office to take some measurements. Sam puts on a mock-up of his new suit you’ve made, and you diligently measure everything, taking notes in your sketchbook that you use for designing. Joaquín stands next to you, arms crossed over his chest, following your movements curiously. As you finish measuring Sam’s arm in different positions, you turn back to your book, using some piled up boxes as a table, and jot down the numbers. 

“Do you have all designs in there?” Joaquín asks, pointing to your sketchbook. You pause momentarily, caught off-guard by the question, then you turn to him.

“I mean, not all of them,” you explain. “There’s probably at least forty more books, all with previous iterations and ideas for everyone’s suits and gear.” 

“Wow,” he says, looking at Sam and giving an impressed nod. But then he turns back to you with a mischievous smile, and Sam rolls his eyes, knowing what he’s going to ask. “Do you also have sketches of Ant-Man’s suit?” 

You narrow your eyes at him playfully, then look over to Sam. He merely shakes his head with a chuckle. 

“Unfortunately no. It wasn’t me who designed his suit,” you say, and Joaquín looks a bit disappointed at that. Now it’s your turn to look at him with a glint in your eyes. “That’s oddly specific. Don’t tell me, you’re a fan?”

“Of course I am,” Joaquín retorts, and Sam laughs, giving him a pat on his shoulder.

“I’m still not introducing you,” he says, and Joaquín pouts. 

You laugh as well, then clasp your hands together, giving your sketchbook one last look.

“Okay, Sam, you’re all done, now it’s your turn.” You turn to Joaquín, who’s looking at you expectantly. “Your suit is in my office, there’s a changing room, you can go put it on there.”

“Hell yeah,” he says, starting towards the office, turning to Sam as he walks backwards. “You’re gonna love this.”

Sam looks at you with confusion and suspicion. 

“Just wait and see,” is all you give him. 

A couple minutes later, Joaquín comes out of the office donning his Falcon suit. Sam looks him up and down, recognising the design.

“Is that…”

“Yep,” Joaquín says with outstretched arms to show off his new look, doing a twirl. 

“The new colour was his idea,” you say, walking all around Joaquín to check if the suit sits properly. You come to a short stop when next to him, and lift your eyes to meet his. “And I think green really suits him.” 

As you continue checking him over, you miss the knowing look that Joaquín and Sam exchange. 

“Oh, this doesn’t look quite right,” you say, noticing how there seems to be extra fabric at his waist, instead of sitting flush. You grab your fabric marker, drawing some lines where you’ll need to take in the sides. Only when you’re done do you realise how close to Joaquín you’ve been standing, and how his gaze is cast to the side, a flustered look on his face. You’re quick to take a step back, thinking you might have made him uncomfortable. 

“So, how does it feel? Any pinching? Can you move properly?” you ask him, perhaps a little too quickly in an attempt to change the subject, and he starts moving his limbs in all possible angles, trying out the suit. “If there’s anything at all, please let me know.” 

You pick up your sketchbook to take some notes as he continues trying out the range of motion. 

“Nope,” Joaquín finally says, coming to a halt, and his smile makes your heart hiccup. “It’s perfect, really.” 

You look away, feeling the heat prickling at your cheeks, and the look Sam is giving you is certainly not helping.

“Well if there’s anything at all, or any ideas you might have later, feel free to add them to the sketchbook,” you say, showing him the page where the Falcon suit design is. “Even if I’m not around, there’s post-it notes in my office. Feel free to write down any ideas you might have.” 

“Will do,” Joaquín says.

“Alright, we’re done then. Thanks to you both,” you say, turning to Sam and then to Joaquín. They both nod in acknowledgement, and you walk back to your office with Joaquín to drop off your sketchbook and materials, leaving it all on your already cluttered desk.

You walk out again so that Joaquín can change in peace, and you see Sam get his phone of his pocket. He reads a text and announces he has to go, so you accompany him outside for a moment to see him off. 

When Joaquín comes back out from changing, he finds the two of you gone. Since he’s still holding the suit, he leaves it on the bench in your office, where there’s piles of fabric and other materials. He lets his eyes roam over the space, strangely endeared by how much it contrasts with the rest of the gym. This corner really feels lived in, he concludes. There’s hints of you everywhere. 

He scans the desk next, seeing little figurines, varying from various animals to faceless wooden people, probably used to design the suits. There’s also several bobbins with coloured thread, post-it notes all over, and the sketchbook. 

A thought occurrs to him of a change for his suit that he wanted to ask about earlier, but then promptly forgot when you ended up so close to him. Since you offered earlier for him to write down his ideas, he decides to do that before he forgets again. Without really looking, he grabs the sketchbook and opens it, his other hand going for the post-it notes and a pen. However his movements come to a sudden stop when his eyes land on the open book. He flips to the next page and realises that is is not your sketchbook. Well, it is, but not the one he meant. 

Joaquín quickly shoots another look to the desk below, only now seeing the other sketchbook peeking out from underneath some other materials which you had used earlier when he was trying on the suit. He knows he shouldn’t snoop, but when his eyes land back on the drawings in his hands, he can’t look away. 

This seems to be your personal sketchbook, full of ink and pencil sketches of different daily objects, landscapes, the gym. He recognises the ducks in a pond to be the park nearby, there’s a couple of sketches of Isaiah, Sam, and then him. Joaquín’s heart flutters as he flips another page. Him again. His mind is screaming that he’s very much intruding in your privacy right now by looking at all of these, but he just can’t stop himself, as he finds that the more pages he flips through, there’s fewer and fewer landscapes and animals and almost every sketch is of him. From the back, pulling weights, smiling, laughing, focused while reading something. The strokes around his face start out a little unsure, a bit squiggly even, like they were drawn in a rush. But with every new sketch, your hand seems to have grown more and more sure, flowing over the page until you knew the shapes by heart, his eyes, the curve of his nose, where each and every mole and freckle sat on his skin. He swallows thickly as he flips one more page, his eyes landing for merely a split second on an unfinished sketch of him from behind with no shirt on, the contours of his nape and shoulders marked over again repeatedly, the lower half only sketched out softly, like you hadn’t had a chance to–

Joaquín looks up at the sound that leaves your throat, something between a shriek and a horrified gasp. You’ve appeared in your office again, but he didn’t hear you approach at all. Your eyes dart between the book in his hands and his face, your own beyond flustered as you realise what he just saw. With quick steps, you shorten the distance and snatch the book from his hands, snapping it closed with a forceful thud. He opens his mouth to apoligise profusely, but you’re quicker.

“You weren’t supposed to see that!” Your voice is squeaky, and the embarrassment and shock on your face shift to something closer to anger. “What were you doing?”

“I swear I didn't mean to snoop!” Joaquín says, raising his hands in defence, then points to his suit still on the bench as he rambles. “Sam and you were gone and I wanted to check the notes on the suit again, but I guess I grabbed the wrong sketchbook, and I’m so sorry, I swear it was an accident.”

You groan, your anger dissipating and making room for the earlier emotions again, and you lift your closed sketchbook to cover your face, shoulders tense as you hide behind it.

“I hope you don’t think I’m a creep or something” you say in a small voice, and he chuckles. That’s not the reaction you expected, so you open your eyes and peek over the book to look at him. An adorable blush starts dusting his cheeks.

“Of course not,” he says softly, fidgeting with some clutter on your desk before bringing his eyes to meet yours. You hide behind the book again. “I’m flattered, truly. I get why Sam calls you Sketch, there’s a lot of them. They’re really good.”

There’s a pause, and your hands tighten around the book. Surely he’s just teasing you.

“You really think so?” you risk the question.

“I do,” he says. You’re still not looking at him, and you think you hear Joaquín take somewhat of a sharp breath. “You know, I’ve been stealing my own fair share of glances at you too, I just lack any artistic skill, otherwise I would–” He stops himself abruptly. You dare peek over the book again, and he looks just as flustered as you do, which you find reassuring, but doesn’t really help you calm down. He lifts his eyes to meet yours, and you hold his gaze this time.

“What I’m trying to say is that some of the sketches seemed a bit rushed. I wouldn't mind it if you… took your time.”

“Are you offering to model for me?” you say after a moment. His blush darkens a bit, and he nods sheepishly. You need to force yourself to breathe normally. “I’d like that,” you add in a small voice.

In that moment, Isaiah enters the gym and calls Joaquín over. He excuses himself and joins the older man while you sit down at your desk, finally letting go of your book, and find your hands trembling. Did that just happen?

After a moment of just sitting there and looking down at the book, now slightly bent from your grip, Joaquín comes back to your office, and you look up.

“Isaiah is going home, and Sam already left,” he announces, then seems to think something over. “Would you like to grab some dinner? Right now. With me, I mean. Or in a bit. Whenever you have time.”

“Let me just finish up quickly here and I’ll be right outside.” The words leave your mouth before you can even process his request. 

“Okay,” he shoots you a smile so radiant that it knocks the breath out of your lungs, and you hold onto the edge of your chair out of his sight, fearing you might collapse to the floor right then and there.

Without wasting a second once he’s gone, you’re quick to put everything away and place Joaquin’s suit on your desk so that it would be the first thing you work on tomorrow. You put the sketchbook with the design notes in the top drawer, and the one with your personal sketches you pack into your bag. Another wave of heat prickles at your cheeks when you hold it, thinking back to how Joaquín had seen your many drawings of him. 

After you join him outside, Joaquín and you walk to a nearby restaurant, it’s small and there aren’t many people there yet as it’s still pretty early in the evening. Sam and you come here all the time, the atmosphere is cosy and the menu is really good. You guide Joaquín to one of the booths at the end and order some food, a pleasant conversation taking place while you eat.

Once you’re done eating, you wipe your hands on the napkin and take out your sketchbook and mechanical pencil, clicking it a couple of times to get the lead out.

“Oh, right now? Okay,” he says, and leans back into his seat. “What should I do?”

You flip the pages as quickly and nonchalantly as you can magange until you land on the last sketch, and you clear your throat.

“M-maybe we’ll leave this one for another time,” you say in a small voice, flipping to the next blank page. Joaquín unsuccessfully tries to bite back a smile at the proposition. You scan the room around you. “Just, uhm, lean your head onto your hand and look to the side for now, at that picture with the flowers for example.” You point to the frame on the wall. 

“Okay,” he breathes, leaning his head on a propped up elbow and lifting his gaze to it, but it flickers back to you. “Should I like, smile, or something?” 

“Whichever you prefer,” you say, and start sketching on the paper. Your eyes dart up to him and then back to the page repeatedly. 

After a moment, when you look up, you find him with his face still tilted like you indicated, but his eyes are on you. Your movements stop and you feel a shudder climb up your spine, but it’s not entirely unpleasant, it makes your skin tingle. You hold your pencil to the page, unable to look away from him.

“You’re supposed to look that way,” you say, gesturing to the side with your chin.

“I like this view better than the flowers, though,” he says, seemingly completely unfazed, while your face is set ablaze. You can’t think of any good comeback, so as you look back down to your sketchbook, you mumble, “Suit yourself.”

The next few minutes are spent in comfortable silence, save for the music and background chatter, where your flustered face shifts into focus, and you work diligently to translate his handsome features onto the page. All the while, he watches you work, enjoying the different expressions you make when you get something wrong and erase it, or when you finally figure it out and confidently place stroke after stroke onto the paper. As he comes to the conclusion that he could watch you forever and never get bored of the sight, another blush spreads on his cheeks, and he has to look away for a moment. 

Once you’re done, you add final details here and there, then place down your pencil and hold up your book, checking the drawing over. He drops his hand onto the table, expectantly waiting to see the finished product.

“It’s done,” you say, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious, and for a moment you consider not showing him. But after he sat so still for you, how could you not? So, gathering some more courage, you quickly turn the sketchbook around, placing it into his waiting hands, and you bring your gaze down to the table while he inspects it.

“Wow,” Joaquín breathes, and warmth spreads in your chest. “This is… This is incredible.”

“You like it?” you ask, daring to bring your eyes up to meet his.

“Of course!” He looks it over once more, pink still sprinkled on his cheeks, then gives you back the book. “You’re a fantastic artist. Thank you for drawing me.” 

He looks like he wants to add something else, but then decides against it. Your brows furrow slightly.

“What? What is it?” Your mind immediately goes to negative comments, like he was about to follow up with a ‘but’, saying that it didn’t even look like him, or that you brought out all his worst features and insecurities. 

“How do I put this,” he says more to himself than you, propping up his elbows on the edge of the table and bringing his closed hands to his chin. It takes him a second to find the right words, and when he looks up to meet your gaze, your heart skips a beat. A warm smile starts spreading on his lips as he talks. “Compared to the ducks in the pond, I feel like you put more care and attention to detail into drawing me. Seeing myself through the eyes of someone who… You know. Someone like you. I kinda feel invincible right now.”

You can’t help but laugh heartily, not in a mocking manner, but more so in relief, as you feel exactly the same. 

“Well, I’m glad I could give you a glimpse, then,” you say, and for a moment, you’re so lost in each others’ eyes, you don’t see the waiter approach. 

“I hope everything was to your taste,” the guy says in a practiced customer service voice, and you both jump slightly. He starts taking your empty plates that you pushed aside. “Would you like to ordersome  dessert?”

Joaquín and you decide to share some ice cream, and once you’re done, he pays for the meal despite your protests, insisting that it was him who invited you to dinner after all, and you walk back to his car. 

“I’ll make sure to have your suit done first thing tomorrow,” you promise when you arrive, and your hand reaches out to open the door, but he takes it in his instead, interlocking your fingers, and you turn toward him with big eyes.

“I may not be an artist,” he says seemingly out of nowhere, stepping closer while still giving you enough space to back off if you wanted to. “But I can give you a glimpse of how I see you in other ways.”

Your brain short circuits for a second, taken completely off-guard by his comment. His other hand comes up to your face, softly brushing his knuckles over your cheek, which surely feels much too hot to the touch. You’re now somewhat trapped between Joaquín and the car, while he’s still making sure you can step aside, but you have no intention of doing that. So your own hands come up, trembling a bit, and you place them on this chest. He takes that as a sign to get even closer, and you can feel his racing heart through his shirt, matching your own erratic heartbeat. 

“For example?” you demand, but your voice is so weak, you're not entirely sure if he heard you.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and his hand fully cups your cheek. “I’ll admit I've been wanting to for a while now.”

Unable to produce a single word, you merely nod, your eyes fluttering closed as he leans in. It’s still pretty early and there could be people walking by and see you, but you don’t care. Once his lips are on yours, the whole world around you disappears. You’re glad the car holds part of your weight and you can partially lean onto it, since your legs seem close to give out underneath you. The hand on your face cradles the back of your head while the other snakes around your waist. Joaquín kisses you slowly, tenderly. He gingerly takes your bottom lip between his teeth and gives it a slight tug, and he swallows the shaky breath that escapes you, his mouth on yours again. 

The kiss lasts forever and not nearly long enough at the same time, and when he pulls back, you blink a couple of times, looking up him.

“Wow,” is all you manage to say, and he chuckles, backing off you so you can stand properly again. He opens the door for you and you take a seat, still unable to form a single coherent thought.

Joaquín walks around the front of the car and climbs in as well, turning on the navigation system.

“Where to?” he asks, and when he turns to look at you, waiting for you to tell him you address, you grab the collar of his bomber jacket, pulling him close to you once more to give him another kiss. But before he can fully melt into it, you let him go, and quickly sit back.

“Sorry, oh god.” You cover your face with your hands, and he chuckles again. He gently pries your fingers away so you look at him, and gives your hand a squeeze. 

“Don’t be,” he says, bringing your hand to his face and placing a kiss on your knuckles. 

The way his eyes glisten in the dark, only illuminated by the street light outside the car, sends an explosion of butterflies straight through your gut and you have to look away. To distract yourself from the erratic pace your heart is beating at, you bring your attention to the console and enter your address, starting the navigator. Joaquín starts the car and you take off. 

“Will you come back by the gym again tomorrow?” you ask after a while.

“If it were up to me, I’d be there every day,” he says, and you feel even more heat spread on your face, if that’s even possible. “I’ll try my best to come by, I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Okay…” 

“Maybe you can finish that one sketch of yours,” he says with a smug grin, and you playfully hit his shoulder with an embarrassed groan as you remember the drawing of his bare back you had started on a whim but couldn't bring yourself to finish. 

As Joaquín drives you home and you sneak another looks at his side profile, you realise that at this rate you'll need a new sketchbook, dedicated entirely to him.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @f1-tennisgirlie @magikdarkholme @tsunchani @Chuchu8293 @bitchy-bi-trash @guynamedaurel @crumbledcastle28 @sarahskywalker-amidala @crazy4lyricb

[earlysunshines]

in a moment you and i

kim minji x fem!reader ; angst, fluff

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“did it?”

“yeah, a minute ago.”

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

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

“you sure? please, i insist.”

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

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

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

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

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

“u-um, no.”

“aw, that’s a shame.”

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

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

“you should get more sleep.”

“yeah, definitely.” 

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

–

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

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

“hm?”

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

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

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

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

“girl, change that then!”

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

“minji’s lovergirl.”

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

shit, that’s going to bruise. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“she’s so cool.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“let a girl do what she wants.”

-

minji shows up to school sore and there’s a bandage on her cheek from the night before. she groans as she sits next to hanni in their english class, leaning against her for support.

“dude, what the hell is up with you.”

“a piece of building and fighting for half an hour that’s what.”

“oh.” hanni hums, “sorry to hear.” 

“it’s your fault.”

“hey!” hanni frowns.

hanni is one to experiment, and a month ago her victim had been a spider. she had tested various methods of enhancing the spiders abilities and modifying its dna to create an adhesive for the science fair, and unfortunately for minji, the spider had escaped and bit her. minji simply wanted to find a few beakers for her own experiment, the last thing she expected was a spider biting her hand and the next day she didn’t need glasses, her body was toned, she could lift her bed up with a hand — and the worst surprise was her fingers were sticking to everything she picked up.

“well, if you had been more careful…”

“don’t turn this around.” minji sighs, closing her eyes and trying to rest a bit.

her eyes are still closed when she hears a familiar voice that makes her heart flutter, opening them when you start to converse with wonyoung.

“my mom works at ador, i can’t believe spiderwoman had saved her…” wonyoung says.

“really? she did?” you look at her, itching for more details.

“yeah, she almost fell to the ground and spiderwoman saved her.” she repeats.

“wow… im glad she’s okay! oh my gosh, your mom is so lucky, im glad spiderwoman was there.”

minji turns to look at you, fighting back a smile. she is?

“i’d love to be saved by spiderwoman, she seems so cool… like, imagine willingly saving people and whatnot. she must be such great person, right?”

you watch wonyoung shrug, then sit down at her desk. you sit down next to her and she starts to take her folder out her bag before adding, “i mean, probably. she saved my mom, she’s a hero in my eyes.”

“she’s so cool…” you sigh dreamily, minji can’t believe it. “the way she fights is like, oh my god, so sick. i can’t believe she’s real, she’s out of this world.”

you, y/n, are talking highly of spiderwoman. that basically means you’re gushing about her, right? minji blinks three times, fully waking up after the third, and smiles to herself. 

wonyoung snickers, “sounds like you have a crush on spiderwoman.”

“stop that! she’s just… ugh.” you roll your eyes and nudge wonyoung. “she’s so admirable, i wish more people would see her as a hero, you know? she’s only done good so far, all the damage and stuff like that only happened because of the people she fought.”

minji might die – her heart feels like it's about to burst. you're on the same wavelength as her, defending spiderwoman, and you admire her too. the way you smile while talking about her alter ego makes minji feel giddy inside. hanni notices, rolls her eyes, and sets her head down on the desk, trying to catch a few extra minutes of sleep while minji revels in the feeling of being in love. hanni might barf.

wonyoung smiles at you, raising her brows. “you’re a fan.”

“maybe.” you admit, looking at the board in front of you. “she’s so cool, that’s all.”

–

minji’s sat outside in the courtyard looking through the pictures she had taken for the archery team. there’s a variety of shots that capture their activities, highlighting their form and bullseyes, and there are a few group pictures in the mix as well.

her eyes are squinting as she looks through them, so focused on the photos that she doesn’t notice someone calling her name.

"hey, minji," you call out, but she’s still hunched over, intently focused on her camera. you walk over, and she doesn’t notice you, too absorbed in adjusting the settings. gently, you grab the front of her cap and turn it around, making it sit backward on her head. startled, she looks up from the camera in her hand to see you. "hi," you greet again, a smile spreading across your lips.

minji’s cheeks flush. “hi, hey. did you need something?”

“yeah, i just wanted to ask a favor.” 

“oh, of course, what was it?”

you sit down next to her and she feels herself stiffen up. you smile at her and lean against the table behind you. “well, i was wondering if you could help take pictures for the tennis team? we have a practice and game coming up so i figured they’d be good on the yearbook. also, jungwon wanted to ask you to help him promote a fundraiser he wants to set up.”

“he did?”

you nod, “jungwon’s been planning this for a while, we’re trying to set it up and do a bake sale of some sort.”

“i��m down, but i’m booked for this week. a lot of people have been asking around, and my friends have priority, you know.”

a giggle slips from your lips and you point to her camera. “well, who wouldn’t ask you? you’re the best photographer here, last years yearbook was amazing because they switched heeseung out for you.”

“you think?”

“i know.”

minji stops for a second, it feels like she’s being squeezed and the way you look at her makes her heart beat a little faster. 

“t-thanks.” minji hates the small stutter in her response and the way she avoids your gaze. “i can um, arrange something next wednesday for the tennis team. for jungwon’s fundraiser maybe the same week, what was it for anyway?”

"we’re trying to raise money to support others in places that don’t have equal care for the lgbtq+ community!" you explain excitedly. minji freezes up again. we? no, maybe you're just an ally; minji can’t just assume. you're really sweet, kind, and a great person, but that doesn’t mean you're gay just because you want to help others.

“that’s wonderful.” 

“mhm, and especially with so many people getting hurt these days, it worries me how people in my own community deal with unequal healthcare, you know?”

minji tilts her head, then says, “wait, your community?”

you look at her with confusion all over you. “yeah! mine. minji, you know im… a lesbian, right?”

fireworks explode, people are cheering, and minji smiles before quickly suppressing it. "oh," she says, then pauses, realizing how flat her response sounds. she nearly drops her camera as she raises a hand in defense, shaking it and stuttering, "i-i mean, it's not a bad thing! obviously, i mean, i'm gay, er—i'm a lesbian too. i think it's great that you care so much about this. it's great. yeah, i'll prioritize the shoot for you."

she looks adorable, cheeks flushed and her glasses sliding down her nose. you push them up with your finger and minji clenches her jaw. 

“great.” you say softly, then narrow your eyes at her. “well, i have to get going for practice. thanks again, you’re the best minji.”

she nods and grips the camera in her hand a little tighter, watching you walk away, then turn around for a brief moment to add,

“you look really good with your hat like that, by the way.” the way it slips off your tongue, the way you smile once more and walk away, leaves minji feeling like she’s near cardiac arrest.

–

minji’s at a mall on a weekend, not to shop or hangout with her friends, but because people think it’s a good idea to try and commit crimes in broad daylight.

they’re not just normal, stupid shoplifters either; they’re far from it – near villains. the men she’s fighting have weapons, and they’re raiding various tech stores, causing chaos as people run around screaming. the scene is a mess, with extensive property damage, and minji wonders how it will ever get fixed.

she fights four men in the apple store, they chuck phones at her in hopes of slowing her down, but really, it’s just putting good phones to waste. she jumps up on the ceiling, catching them by surprise, and takes them down one by one from where she is. they’re not difficult to fight, minji had alrieady figured from the whole phone throwing part, so thankfully there’s isn’t a single scratch on her.

a few more stores are terrorized and minji manages to capture at least ten more culprits, webbing them together or sticking them to a wall for the police to find red-handed. she’s left with a few bruises by then, but nothing too brutal.

minji catches sight of two men in the corner of her eye running toward the metro stop that connects to the mall. she quickly follows, weaving past civilians and using her webs to launch herself ahead, closing the distance faster. she watches as the two men jump the entrance gate to the station. not only did they destroy a decent part of the mall, but they didn’t even bother to pay for the metro. they could’ve at least bought a day pass, she thinks wryly.

by the time she gets passed the entrance (she didn’t pay either, but in her case it’s to stop crime) and finds herself at a rough stop.

there are three metro lines: red, blue, and yellow – after getting down the stairs there are three directions that they could’ve gone, and minji doesn’t have time to check every place considering the metro comes and goes.

she’s stuck, the only thing she can do is pick one and pray that she’ll find them.

that’s what she thinks at least, until she hears a woman screaming for help in the direction of the red line. minji swings towards it almost immediately, using her enhanced agility and power to get there as fast as she can. 

when she reaches the platform, her eyes widen.

the two men hold you, your arms are restricted and you’re desperately trying to squirm out their grasp. minji immediately feels anger bubbling up inside of her, watching the way the men smile at her.

“let her go.” minji warns, stepping closer.

"how about you relax, spiderwoman? put your hands up, and the girl will be perfectly fine," one of the men sneers, pulling out a dagger and holding it against your neck. your head tilts up, desperately trying to avoid the blade, and your breath shakes as you freeze in place. "wouldn't want to hurt such a pretty little thing, hm? she is one of the captain's daughters, isn't that right?" the man adds, smiling at you disgustingly.

“fuck you.” you curse through gritted teeth. “ugly bitch.”

the man presses the flat side of the dagger against you, the frigid feeling of the material makes you gasp. 

you seemed to have been browsing around the mall, considering the casual outfit you have on, but now, you’re in danger. minji looks at you worried, unable to process much from just seeing you being held back like that. you look at her with upturned brows, scared out of your mind but also worrying just as much for spiderwoman.

minji sighs quickly, there’s others around as well, she can’t risk causing a scene in such a tight space with so much risk of making things worse. she puts her hands up slowly, you widen your eyes.

“fine, i won’t budge. just take that blade away from her, now.” minji says.

the man laughs, and so does his little partner in crime. “what, this blade?” he uses the dagger to tilt your head to the side to face him, then grins. “i wouldn’t do a thing to such a beauty.”

you fight back a retort, opting to shut yourself up for the time being. the man puts his hand down, taking away the blade from your throat.

“let her go.” minji orders, looking at you being held back. “she didn’t do anything.”

his partner snickers, then looks at you amusedly before looking back at minji. “you just stay there and we’ll see what happens to–”

before he can answer, you manage to kick him in the back of his knee, throwing him off balance and making him stumble. this gives you a quick opportunity to break free from one man's grip and swing your free hand at the other. you successfully land a blow on the man with the dagger, striking his jaw, but the impact hurts your knuckles, making you inhale sharply.

the men recover as you step away from them, eyeing you angrily.

“you little–”

before they can grab you again, you feel something sticking to your back. you’re being pulled backwards and feel an arm wraps around you. turning over, you see spiderwoman up close and in person. the eyes on her mask narrow as she looks at you, then asks, 

“are you okay?”

you gulp, then breathe hard. “yeah, yes.”

“good, stay put.” she says. 

you watch as she runs toward the man you had kicked, delivering a punch to his jaw and another to his stomach, making him fall back with a groan. he lays on the ground, clutching his belly, unable to get up after just two hits. the other man, now frightened, clutches his dagger. you watch as spider-woman slings a web at his chest, pulling him toward her, and then punches him right where you did.

you’re amazed, to say the least—until the man somehow manages to swing his dagger at spiderwoman’s upper forearm, leaving a deep cut. your eyes widen in horror as blood seeps out onto the floor.

she gasps in pain as the man attempts to swing at her shoulder, but she quickly throws him to the ground before he can and shoots a web at his hand, making the dagger fall in the process.

ignoring the pain for a moment, minji traps the men on the dirty platform floor by webbing their limbs to the ground. she kicks the man who had the dagger in the crotch for good measure. people cheer in amazement, applauding her efforts.

however, minji’s too distracted by the sharp pain from the cut, and that you’re watching.

she turns to see you appalled, walking over to look at her wound closer.

“you’re– spiderwoman, you’re hurt.”

“it’s not much,” she lies, shaking her head. “just a scratch.”

“no, no it’s not don’t lie to my face.” you grab her wrist without warning, and even though she’s spiderwoman at the moment – not kim minji, the girl who can barely make eye contact with you for more than five seconds – she’s momentarily distracted by the pain and blushing. “i– are you able to swing places?”

“um, i guess?” the confidence she’s built for this alter ego has completely washed away in your presence. “what are you–”

before she can finish, you fish for a handkerchief in your bag and tie it around the bleeding cut. minji doesn’t respond or say anything because a second later you’ve grabbed her hand and started running away from the red line platform. civillians watch, but none follow.

you turn to her for a split second as you speed through the corridors to ask, “do you know where hybe highschool is?”

“yes,” minji says breathily, “excuse me, y/–” she catches herself before exposing the fact that she knows you. “miss, what are you–”

“take me there, you can swing me, can’t you?”

the handkerchief does wonders, or maybe it’s just you. spiderwoman nods. “yeah, yes.”

in a rush of boldness, minji grabs your waist and holds onto you tight, shooting a web up at the ceiling to get the two of you up the big escalator in two seconds, then finds the nearest exit and has you two outside in no time.

“hold on tight, okay? it can be a little scary.”

“i like the thrill, it’s okay.” 

minji pauses, catching her breath. “you’re interesting,” she says, then shoots a web at the nearest building. she jumps up, swinging the two of you through the urban jungle, the city blurring around you as minji finds the quickest route to her school with you clinging onto her.

–

when the two of you reach the school, it’s closed and abandoned since it’s a saturday. why would anyone be on the campus during their off day? in this case, it’s because a pretty girl has led spiderwoman back for a reason she hasn’t even said yet.

minji needs to get a grip.

“follow me,” you say quickly, then grab her hand and run towards the south entrance where the main office and clinic are. ““if you’re ever hurt, just remember this.”

the doors aren’t open, but you pull out a keycard from under the mat that unlocks it. 

you lead her past the office and towards the clinic, which is empty. minji lets you sit her down – you’re too in your head to consider the fact that spiderwoman is sat down with no word uttered because she had simply let you do so – and watches you shuffle around the storage to find a first aid kit, cloth, a bucket, and a bottle of distilled water.

“what are you doing?”

“you have a really deep cut in your forearm, it’s not safe to just let it go.”

“i could’ve seen a doctor.”

you scoff, then sit down next to her. “they’d ring the police immediately, you know my dad is a captain? everyone there hates you.”

“oh.”

"yeah, oh." you grab her forearm, unwrapping the handkerchief and cringing at how much blood has soaked through. "jesus christ." you hold her forearm above a bucket, pouring water over the wound to rinse it off. then you grab a soft cloth with disinfectant to clean around the area. the sting makes minji groan. "sorry," you apologize.

"it’s fine," she says quietly, watching you clean around the wound with an alcohol wipe. minji bites back more sounds of pain—for your sake, of course.

the rest of the time you treat her, it's silent. thankfully, the cut isn’t severe enough to need stitches. you apply a thin layer of ointment to the wound, then cover it with gauze, wrapping it securely around her forearm to keep it in place. you rub your thumb over the gauze, then look up at spiderwoman.

“does it hurt less?”

“yeah,” she says, looking down at her treated cut. “thank you.”

“it’s nothing.”

“why did you do it?”

“why not?” you shrug, packing up the equipment you used. “you’re spiderwoman.”

“you just said the police hate me.”

“they do.”

“your dad is a cop.”

“you’re smart,” you grin at her teasingly as she points out the obvious. “he is.”

minji sighs, unable to read you at all. “you don’t hate me?”

“i don’t have any reason to. most of the time you do their job better, you help out with the more… serious crimes. if anything, i think you’re a hero.”

that manages to shut spiderwoman up, so you continue, putting the first aid kit away in the cabinet. then you grab the blood and water mixture and pour it down the sink. you rinse the bucket and place it on the ground before tossing the empty water bottle into the trash.

minji cannot believe any of this happened. you, the prettiest, sweetest girl in the school that she’s been head over heels for since grade eight, have managed to drag a vigilante five minutes away to your school and treat her.

“how are you so good with stuff like this?” minji questions, watching you wash your hands. 

“my aunt is a nurse.” you dry off your hands with a paper towel, then turn to look at her. “she taught me a fair amount.”

of course you know how to treat a wound, you’re good at everything, minji thinks.

“thank you…?”

“y/n,” minji already knows that, and you saying it is like choir bells ringing. “my name is y/n.”

“right, thank you y/n.”

“mhm.” she watches you fix your black t-shirt and jeans, then grab a small bandaid from the drawer nearby. you look in the mirror and lift your head up, turning to the side to place the bandaid on a small cut that minji didn’t notice before.

“he hurt you?”

“‘just a scratch,’” you mock her words from earlier. “he just grazed me, it’s bleeding a little now though.”

“you’re okay, right?”

“kind of traumatized but i’ll be fine.” you say, brushing it off like it’s nothing. minji is seriously attracted to everything about you. “i’m glad you’re okay.”

“i should be the one saying that.”

“i’m okay, spiderwoman. all because of you.”

minji tries to respond, but her throat dries up. she watches you smile at her, feeling her heart do a little flip in her chest. she wonders what she can do in return, then perks her head up as an idea forms in her mind.

“i can drop you back off at home, it’s getting late,” you offer, though it’s only five o’clock in the afternoon. despite the early hour, minji finds herself wanting to spend more time with you. behind the mask, she feels a bit more confident talking to you, knowing you think highly of her from what you’ve overheard. “you like the thrill, right?”

“you’re a good listener.”

“i guess so.”

“i’d love to get home via spiderwoman, uber’s are pricey these days.”

minji laughs softly and the pain in her arm fades away momentarily.

–

you’re bombarded the next day by your friends and some other people you’ve only talked to a few times in your (almost) four years of being in the school. they all question the same thing, everything is related to what happened between you and spiderwoman because of some pictures going around on the internet.

the people you don’t know all too well all question your experience, but your friends are asking if you’re okay or severely injured.

jungwon acts as a bodyguard, shooing away everyone who isn’t in your circle and tilting your head up to examine the bandaid on your neck.

“is your throat okay?”

“it’s nothing, just a little worse than a papercut,” you assure, but wonyoung makes a face.

“papercuts are terrible y/n,” she groans, “are you sure you’re fine?”

“it’s nothing. spiderwoman saved me before i could do anything, i’ll tell you more, let’s just get to class?”

“you’re sure you’re–” 

“wonyoung, it’s a scratch. it’s nothing.”

–

after school, you’re typically at tennis practice or helping out with student government activities. you usually get home around four or five, either sweaty from practice or burnt out from your responsibilities. normally, you arrive before your dad and aunt. your dad’s demanding schedule rarely allows him to rest, and your aunt’s schedule is worse considering she’s a nurse, so you’re usually home alone for a bit.

that’s not the case this time.

you close the door behind you, then turn to see your dad leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. your aunt looks at you, clearly tense.

“oh, you’re both home.” you set your jacket on the little hook in the door. “what’s up…?” the way your dad looks at you makes you stiff, his jaw tightens and he looks angry. he’s rarely ever angry at you, and your aunt seems worried. “did something happen?” you ask.

“how about you explain to me why i’m finding out today,” he steps away from the counter, walking towards you and continuing, “that my daughter crossed paths with that vigilante.”

“spiderwoman?”

“y/n, i thought you knew better.”

your shoulders sink and you sigh, “she’s not as bad as you paint her out to be.”

“she could be, she’s dangerous.”

“dad!” you scoff, shaking your head. “are you dense? if she hadn’t been there, my throat would’ve been sliced.”

“or maybe you wouldn’t have been in that situation at all. you realize those men used you to get spiderwoman to surrender? because of her i almost lost my only daughter.”

your aunt simply hums, then nods. “i’m sorry but… your dad has a point.”

“you’re agreeing with him too?” you groan, “dad, regardless of what could’ve happened, what did happen was that spiderwoman saved me. can’t you see that?”

“y/n, think about what could happen in the long run, listen to your dad. look, i know you’re frustrated, but your dad is also my older brother, he’s always known what’s best.”

“all that spiderwoman can bring is danger to you, don’t follow her antics.”

you stare at both of them, baffled and almost offended. you could’ve died, and they’re still ungrateful for spider-woman’s efforts. you bite the inside of your lip, struggling to hold back the urge to lash out. your dad sends you a small warning look, silently reminding you to keep your composure. scoffing, since it's the only outlet for your frustration, you storm down the hall to your room, deciding to avoid them for a while.

once you close the door, you flop down on your bed and close your eyes.

various emotions come rushing to you, only fuelign the fire of resent towards your dad in the moment.

he’s been so uptight since your mom passed when you were young, becoming increasingly protective and closed off. he pushes you to be better but restricts you from so many things. it’s as if he wants to hide you from the world, only exposing you to what he deems right. his selfishness and narrow-mindedness infuriate you. his biased views feel like chains holding you back and making you angrier.

your aunt has been with you for a while now, and she understands you the most. she gets your moods, motivations, and knows you like the back of her hand. despite everything, she sides with your dad – you feel some sort of betrayal.

your father isn’t a bad guy, but being mad at him makes you forget that for a bit.

“he doesn’t know shit,” you mutter, “spiderwoman isn’t danger.”

sitting up again, you stare at the floor as you recollect yourself.

you groan again, feeling cramped up in the room. your thoughts feel like a stormy cloud over your head and the thought of being in the same living space with your dad only frustrates you more. 

quickly, you grab your phone and keys, rushing out your room and down the hall. your aunt and dad stop conversing momentarily as they watch you unlock the door.

“what do you think you’re doing y/n?” your dad questions, watching you closely. you don’t respond, instead sending him a small look before opening the door, and he seems to lose it. “where the hell are you–”

his wrist is restrained and tugged at as you exit the apartment. your dad looks back to see your aunt – his sister – holding him back. she shakes her head and stops him, softly saying, “don’t, just let her.”

“i can’t just–”

“you’re so uptight, just let her be. she’s overstimulated and needs some time.”

he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking back at the door. his body relaxes, almost going limp as he sits down next to your aunt. “i’m just worried for her.”

“she’ll be fine, just take it easy. i’m worried about her too.”

–

you’ve made it a few blocks away with no idea in mind. you don’t have your wallet or anything, just a heavy heart and clouded mind – and after hearing your stomach rumble, almost an empty stomach too.

it’s still busy during the late evening. people are making their way home after staying late at work, families of three or four linger together, and friends eat ice cream on the benches. you’re trying to find a place that brings you peace. the nearby bookstore, the same one you grew up visiting, pops into your head. it never fails to bring you relaxation, a sort of sanctuary to you.

one more block and you’ve turned to meet the entrance of the bookstore, it closes in less than an hour – that’s more than enough time to cruise around. stepping inside you’re met with the strangely nice smell of books, a small smile forms on your lips.

you make your way over to the graphic novels, sliding your fingers along the spines as you walk through. you’ve already read most of them, and tonight's mood doesn’t really call for this type of reading. the next section you visit is where your favorite poems and literature are found. you scan the shelves closely before picking out a small book filled with a collection of poems you haven’t seen before. flipping through it, you read every other page, admiring the works.

you grab another book before heading to your favorite spot, the little corner away from the shelves near the window. 

what you don’t expect to see is someone in your usual spot, slumped against the wall, sleeping with a book in their hand. you squint your eyes as you catch sight of the person, then look closer, realizing it isn’t just anyone: it’s minji.

minji’s always been alluring in your eyes, not just physically but her as a person drew you in a bit. she’d always stumble on her words and had this weird, adorable charm to her with every interaction. plus, she was smart and sweet, but you never had the chance to talk to her as much as you’d like to – even if you were to, you were always a little nervous yourself. seeing her now, she looks especially cute, reminding you of how she makes your heart beat slightly faster everytime you see her.

she’s in a black hoodie and jeans, breathing slowly with her head angled down and her lips slightly parted. her glasses are almost at the tip of her nose and her hair is tied up in a casual bun. you’ve always caught her sleeping in class at least twice a week from afar, you never realized how pretty she looked up close.

you hesitate, unsure whether to wake her or not. glancing down at your phone to check the time, you decide you’ll wake her before the store closes.

to pass the time, you continue to read, marvelled at certain pieces and snapping pictures here and there. this lasts twenty minutes, you almost forget about the time, but minji crosses your mind as you read a certain poem and it prompts you to check your phone and look back at the girl.

you shake her lightly, hearing her groan despite not budging. you squeeze her shoulder and she still doesn’t wake up, so you opt to pinch her cheeks, which stirs her awake.

“hm?” she mutters, blinking a couple times. 

“morning minji.”

“y/n, hi, what– how did you get here? what time is it…”

she hears you giggle before responding, “the place closes in ten minutes. i usually read in this space but when i came over i saw you sleeping, so i just stayed close until it got late.”

“you did?” you stayed by minji while she slept, how crazy is that? minji pushes her glasses up. “thank you for waking me up.”

“it’s nothing, but we should probably head out before they kick us out.”

“yeah, that sounds good.”

minji follows you towards the section where you got the book you were reading. she watches as you carefully put the book back in its place, and then you lead her out of the bookstore, saying goodnight to the staff sweetly and waving. minji can only smile and admire until you’re both outside.

you look both ways, then your stomach rumbles. your cheeks warm up and you embarrassingly mumble, “sorry, i haven’t eaten yet.”

“you haven’t?” minji questions.

“no. i’ll eat later, i don’t have my wallet on me.”

“but your stomach just rumbled, you should really eat.”

“it’s whatever.”

“no,” minji shakes her head, then looks at you seriously. “it’s not whatever, let me buy you something.” she says, a little shocked that she even had the confidence to say that. “you need to eat.”

“it’s fine, i–”

“come on, let’s go. the convenience store is at the end of the block.”

“i don’t have my wallet minji.”

“i’ll pay.”

“you’re not paying for me.”

“yes i am. do you want those pictures or…?” minji smirks slightly and you surrender because it makes you feel oddly nervous and warm inside.

“fine.” you respond, shoulders sinking as minji starts to walk in the direction of the convenience store. 

the two of you make your way inside, wandering around and browsing the cheaper options. minji grabs a packet of ramen and some green tea, while you find a chicken sandwich and peach tea. after being rung up by the cashier, you head towards the area to prepare minji’s ramen. as you glance at the food in your hands, you feel a pang of guilt, knowing she bought it for you.

minji’s pouring hot water into the bowl while you speak, “i’ll pay you back.”

“it’s nothing, don’t.”

“stop, i will.”

“don’t.” minji shrugs, then uses a chopstick to stir the noodles around. she puts a sauce packet in and mixes again, then looks at you with a small smile. “it’s nothing, seriously. i haven’t eaten dinner yet either, your company is enough.”

“is it?”

she finds herself blushing a little. “um, yeah, yes.”

“oh.” your lips start to turn up. “yours is great too.”

minji turns back to the bowl of ramen because she’s a little embarrassed, but also because her dinner is finished. 

the two of you sit at the counters inside the store and start to eat. it’s silent for a while, but there’s nothing wrong with that. you feel happy just being next to her, and the sandwich tastes better than usual.

“why didn’t you eat before?” minji asks you while you’re still chewing. 

you take a moment to swallow before answering, “i kind of… ran away for a bit.”

“you snuck out?”

“no, my dad saw me leave. i think my aunt held him back.”

“oh.” minji looks away from you and out the window. “did something happen?” she starts, but stops herself soon after. “i mean you don’t have to tell me of course, i was just curious.”

“it’s fine, my dad and i got into a little disagreement, that’s all.” you see, a little bothered by it in minji’s eyes, but she doesn’t push further. you take a sip of your tea and turn to look at minji. “how long were you at the bookstore?”

“oh, um.” she laughs nervously. “i was reading for half an hour, then fell asleep. you woke me up a few hours after.”

“you were asleep for hours there?”

“only two!” she quickly defends, making you giggle. “i’m just… tired these days.”

you scoff playfully. “doing what?” 

minji pauses, trying to formulate an answer. “sleep problems?” it comes out unsure and more like she’s questioning herself. she coughs and says again, firmly, “sleep problems.”

“aw, maybe buy melatonin?”

“my mom isn’t fond of that, she thinks it’ll mess with my health.”

“yeah, my dad thinks that too.” 

minji chuckles before slurping up a few more noodles, and you take another bite out of your sandwich.

a few minutes later, you two finish your food and start walking with no destination in mind. the evening chill sets in, and the breeze makes you tense up and shiver. minji notices you clutch your phone tighter as the wind blows against you. you're wearing a baby t-shirt and linen pants, clearly not enough to keep warm in this weather.

“are you cold?”

you shake your head and lie, “no, just a breeze.”

“you look cold. here, i have a long-sleeved shirt under this anyway,” minji says quietly, slipping off her hoodie. she pauses and you do too, then hands it to you. you tilt your head, staring at the piece of clothing, then look back at her. she moves it towards you again, urging you to take it. “i’m warm, you’re not.”

“i am.”

“i didn’t know you could be such a liar, y/n.”

“what?”

“i’m kidding,” she says, then pulls you closer by your wrist. you let her put the hoodie on you, it fits a little large since it’s also oversized on her. “better?”

she looks at you with care in her eyes, you almost stop breathing. the sunset’s glow highlights the curve of her nose and lights up her gaze. all you can think is wow, because wow.

“woah,” you’re a little starstruck. “you’re… gorgeous.”

“i– what? no, where did that come from?”

“sorry, um, i didn’t mean to… it was just in the moment, you know? yeah…” you swallow lightly, and laugh to push away the awkwardness. “thank you. this is much better, i’m warm.”

“that’s good.”

“yeah.”

the two of you continue to walk, with you filling the silence and talking about your classes. minji’s easy to talk to, she’s a great listener and hums at everything before adding her own input. everything she responds with is interesting too, but maybe that’s because she’s minji.

both of you had turned halfway through to start walking in the other direction since you live the same way. minji points at certain stores and spots, sharing short stories and little remarks about memories from each place. her voice is soft and nostalgic, painting vivid pictures of her past experiences as you stroll along together. 

you could listen to her all day, or at least a long while. that’s what you realize the more she speaks.

you two reach a point where you need to part ways. minji lives on the right side and you live left, so you two stand at the croner before the crosswalk, looking at each other.

minji pauses you as you start to take off her hoodie, “you can give it back to me tomorrow.”

“what? no way, it’s cold.”

“my home is only five minutes down, it’s fine.”

“you sure?”

“i’m sure.” she adds.

silence follows again for a few seconds, you take the time to scan minji’s face again.

“what happened to your cheek?” you point at the bandage on her cheekbone.

“oh,” minji’s not going to tell you that some idiot decided to throw a piece of building at her and scratch her skin. “um, knife?” she clears her throat. “knife.”

“how did the knife get up there?”

minji tries hard to conjure a response, looking down before her eyes light up after a lie forms.

“i had it in my hand while trying to scratch an itch.”

“mhm, okay.” you say squinting your eyes at her and giggling. 

minji looks at the bandage on your neck, remembering how, where, and why you had hurt yourself there. it’s odd that you look at her with the same admiration even when she’s out of teh suit – when she’s just minji and not some ‘hero’ in your eyes.

“what happened to your neck?”

“some guy.” you play it off like you didn’t almost get your throat sliced. “you probably heard the story.”

“i didn’t.” she didn’t need to, minji had been part of the story.

“oh,” your fingers raise and brush against the bandage as you recall, “spiderwoman saved me, but this guy managed to graze me.”

minji hums and nods, then steps closer, reaching her hand out to gently put her finger on it. you stiffen. 

“were you scared?” minji asks, finger sliding down the bandage in a way that makes you tingle. “it must’ve been scary.”

you shake your head. “spiderwoman was there, i knew she’d come through.”

“right.” minji says lowly, then takes her finger off of you. she stares at you for a good five seconds before smiling softly. “i’ll um, i’ll see you.”

“yeah, thanks.”

“get home safe, text me when you get– oh, wait.” she furrows her brows before pulling out her phone. “i don’t have your um…” her voice quiets down to something close to a whisper, “--your number.”

“you can have it, if that’s what you’re trying to ask.” 

“yeah, um, i just wanted to make sure you got home safe.” minji says, because if anything were to happen to you she’d do more than just web some dumbass down. they’d probably be left with a little bruise or two, maybe even left upside down against a wall or tree. minji continues, “if that’s alright with you.”

“that’s perfect.” you type in your number and smile at her once more before finally adding, “thank you for the hoodie, good night minji.”

“goodnight y/n.”

with that, you two depart, and you look back once to see her walking in the other direction. when you turn back, putting your hands in the pocket of minji’s hoodie, you realize: minji’s wonderful. 

the image of her smiling and puffing her lips out when you tease her makes you grin to yourself. you can’t tell if it’s because of her hoodie or her; you’re warm inside and out.

–

minji waits for you at the entrance of the school instead of meeting her friends at their usual spot (if the little corridor by the gym counts as a meetup spot anyway). she looks around, you had texted her that you were almost at school.

she feels a little stupid standing there by herself, especially since your friends are nearby and stealing glances at her, making her shrink in her place a little.

all her worries wash away when you walk through the entrance and scan the room, meeting her eyes and lighting up. you make your way towards her with her hoodie in your arms, then hand it to her.

“thanks again.”

“it’s no problem.”

“i owe you, and for the shoot later today.”

“you don’t owe me anything.” minji smiles at you assuringly. “i’ll um, get going. your friends are all here…” she rubs her neck awkwardly and looks down at the hoodie in her hand.

“oh! i was actually wondering…” she watches you look down at the ground. “do you want to walk around together? we have first block together so… if you don’t mind. i enjoyed being around you last night.”

“you did?” minji looks surprised, she sounds surprised. “i mean, yes. yeah, i’m down, let me text my friends.”

“great.”

“yeah.”

minji can’t fight back the smile that forms on her face and neither can you – you like the sight of it. her gums show a little and you think it’s the most endearing thing in the world.

“by the way, are you and your dad okay? after the argument.. you know?”

“oh, yeah.” you mumble. you and your dad agreed to disagree. “it doesn’t really matter, i’m just grateful you were there to help me feel better.”

“i did?”

“how could you not?”

-

minji’s adjusting the settings of her camera, eyes squinty as she looks close at the small screen. from afar, you take a few glances throughout your conversation with jungwon and wonyoung.

you watch as minji’s lips pout a little, she has a poker face that would make her seem intimidating and serious if you didn’t know her. 

“hello?” jungwon waves a hand in front of your face. you glance away from minji and your attention is back on him, catching the look he shares with wonyoung. 

“why are you guys looking at each other like that.” 

wonyoung raises her eyebrows, the smirks. “the real question is why are you looking at minji so much?”

“i’m just… you know… she’s– she’s taking long to set up her stuff.”

“it’s been less than three minutes y/n,” jungwon clicks his tongue. “you even ditched us to walk with her, what’s up with that?”

crossing your arms, you respond, “what’s wrong with that? are you jealous?”

“oh not at all, i don’t care y/n. just curious, that’s all.”

“you looked a little too happy in my eyes.” wonyoung teases, smiling knowingly. 

“shut up, she’s just really nice, you know…” 

“uh huh.” jungwon hums, smiling wider.

before you can scold him, you catch minji looking up and making eye contact with you. today, she’s wearing a flannel over a white tank top, paired with dark jeans to complete the outfit. she looks a little dorky, but you’re into that – she pulls it off effortlessly. 

as she starts to walk towards you, jungwon, and wonyoung, you smile wider, waving at her and beckoning her over with your hand. minji greets the others warmly, then glances down at the ground before looking back up at you nervously.

“hi, are you all ready?”

“yeah, i’ll gather the rest.”

“great, you all can just go on with practice and i’ll try to get the best shots i can.”

“that sounds great! thank you again minji, i owe you so much.”

she chuckles, putting a hand on your shoulder and rubbing it lightly. “it’s nothing.” she says, but what’s something is the familiar tingly sensation making you lose balance. jungwon notices the blush on your cheeks, as well at your thrown off composure, fighting back a laugh.

first, you and jungwon have a warm-up match together. minji snaps a few pictures before wonyoung and heeseung join in for a doubles match. after capturing your group, she moves on to the rest of the team, snapping pictures of them in action. her shots capture the players mid-swing, rackets in hand, their faces set with determination. the light filters through the trees, casting a perfect glow over the court, making each photo dynamic and full of energy.

you sit on the side, watching your teammates and minji (mostly minji) at work. 

“i’ve never seen you with hearts in your eyes until now.” wonyoung teases, shoving her shoulder against yours.

“shut up,” you groan, putting your hand on her face and pushing her away. “minji’s so sweet, and cute…”

“i knew it!” wonyoung gasps, “you never look at anyone like that. half the school looks at you like that, but you’ve never returned the gesture.”

“there’s no one in the school to look at like that wony.”

“well, now there is.”

you sigh, leaning into your best friend and pouting. minji looks really, really good on the court, the sun hitting her, and all focused on doing what she does best.

“i never realized how gorgeous she was.” you admit, staring harder. “and she’s so nice, like, danielle – the one in student government – she’s mentioned her a few times and only good things have come out her mouth. she’s not lying.”

“what, did you hangout with her or something? like a date?”

“no! no.” you shake your head, then frown slightly. “i mean, i got into a fight again with my dad and ran out the house and then to the bookstore and–”

“slow down.”

“sorry. i don’t know, i ran into her and just being with her made me feel better. it’s crazy because we’ve barely talked before this.”

“hmm…” wonyoung starts to ponder, narrowing her eyes at minji as she shoots a thumbs up in the air. she turns to face you and your best friend, smiling and walking over. “well, seems like you’re fond of her. i guess we’ll have to let time do the work.” she says before minji’s in a range where she can hear the two of you.

minji stands in front of you and wonyoung, grinning as she explains, “i’ve gotten the last shots i think, now a group picture?” 

“yes, that would be great.”

“great, if you could get everyone in the middle of the court that would be great.”

you nod, then grab wonyoung eagerly by the wrist and motion for everyone to gather around, just like minji said.

she instructs you all to have the tallest in the back, with you and jungwon in the front together since you two are the captains. minji sets the camera on the tripod, squinting her eyes as she fixes certain things. then, she gives a small thumbs up and says, “smile!”

the whole team says “cheese!” in unison, making minji smile herself. she snaps a few pictures, then urges you all to do something a little sillier. you make a face and stand on your tip toes to wrap and arm around jungwon, making him groan and laugh simultaneously. it’s candid in a way, with everyone being themselves and enjoying the moment.

minji giggles, then raises her hand up to give one last final thumbs up.

the smile on your face fades into something near shock, because minji’s sleeve falls down to just above her elbow, revealing a covered-up patch of skin – goosebumps trail up your spine because that’s the exact same gauze and placement. everything is identical to what you patched up two days ago, your brows furrow upon seeing it.

minji doesn’t seem to notice, instead taking the camera off the tripod and clicking through the photos. the tennis team starts to converse again, but you’re caught up with the injury on minji’s forearm.

you don’t want to jump to conclusions – but you’re kind of doing that.

what doesn’t help minjis case is the fact that she reacts so quickly when a tennis ball flies toward her head. it’s almost unhuman how she manages to dodge it, then catch it right after. 

she walks back towards you, then says, “the pictures look great from the little screen, i’ll take a look at them on the laptop and email them to you, yeah?”

you don’t respond for a moment, your eyes on her exposed forearm. you squint harder, thinking of when you patched up spiderwoman, and nothing shakes you from teh fact that that’s the same fucking bandage.

“y/n?”

“oh, yeah, that sounds good.”

“yeah…” minji realizes what you’re staring at, then panics and quickly rolls down her sleeve again. “i um, i just uh, hurt myself.”

“how?” you look up at her, making eye contact. “what happened?”

“brick.” she says quietly, “i tripped and my arm hit the um, the edge of a brick.”

“right, okay.” you still look at her now covered forearm, squinting again. “i hope it feels better.”

“thanks.”

“yeah.”

–

there isn’t a single person you can confide in about your suspicion that minji might be spiderwoman. jungwon would laugh and brush you off, thinking it’s just a wild fantasy. wonyoung would probably call you delusional, yeah, probably. 

left with no one to share your thoughts, you resort to lying in bed, eyes wide open, pondering the possibility. the moonlight filters through your window, casting shadows on the ceiling as you replay every clue and coincidence in your mind, trying to make sense of it all.

you grab your phone, searching up “superwoman” to see a very recent article in the first result that comes up titled: spiderwoman caught in a recent face-off with seoul’s most dangerous gang.

you click on a video beneath the headline, watching the scene unfold. spiderwoman performs a series of flips and maneuvers that seem almost unreal. the person filming is either too nervous or simply bad at their job; the footage is shaky, making it hard to follow. you squint at the screen, trying to make out the details, feeling a mix of awe and frustration as spiderwoman's incredible agility and skill are partially obscured by the unsteady camera work.

what you do catch is a dagger being thrown at spiderwoman’s rib, slicing her suit and watching blood seep out as she clutches the wound. you wince from just watching.

spiderwoman fights off the gang members with ease, knocking out three at once by letting them charge her, then jumping up to make them crash to the ground without her laying a finger on them. the last man stares at her in fear, stumbling backward as she steps closer and webs his mouth shut.

the video ends with spiderwoman webbing all the culprits against the city square as the police arrive. there’s sirens and commotion before she turns to see cops with guns pointed at her before swinging off, leaving them frustrated. your dad appears in the frame, cursing under his breath. the civilians around watch in shock and awe, clapping as she swings away.

she swings west, you take note of that.

after clicking out the video realizing that the article had been posted only five minutes ago, you hurriedly grab a hoodie and rush out your room. your aunt isn’t home yet, so no one would notice that you’re out and about.

you rush out the door and and lock your apartment clumsily, missing the keyhole at least twice before getting it. you run towards the elevator, then out of it once you reach the lobby and speed towards your school.

the school you patched spiderwoman up in, the school you and minji attend, is west of the city square. there’s a chance that spiderwoman won’t be there, but after she’s been shown how to get in after hours, there’s also a chance that the wound on her side needs to be patched up there specifically. besides, you’ve given her the secret to getting in.

you get there after running at your fastest pace for five minutes straight, and now you’re breathing heavily outside the entrance of the school. you’re inside in no time (perks of having a keycard from student government) and tiredly rushing towards the nurses office, then heading inside.

minji, however, is at least three steps ahead of you. after being bit by a genetically modified spider, her senses have been enhanced, so she had heard you as soon as you made it past the entrance – without knowing it was you.

when you step inside, there’s no one. 

the only thing you can see are bandages messily spread out on the counter and blood on the floor. you let out a breath at the sight of it.

“it’s me, y/n.”

there’s silence for a few seconds before you hear someone landing on the ground behind you, making you yelp from surprise.

“y/n? what are you doing here?”

“i saw your fight in an article.” you start, turning around to face the masked hero. you’re still not one hundred percent sure if it’s minji, but something tells you it’s her. you can’t really explain it. “you’re hurt.”

“a little.”

“that’s a big scratch you have there.” you point out, making minji laugh despite the sharp pain she feels.

“‘you’re smart’.” now it’s her turn to mock your words. you roll your eyes, stepping closer to press your fingers against it, her blood staining your fingers a bit. 

“sit down.”

“i don’t need your help.”

“you’re going to end up with a soaked bandaid, spiderwoman. i know what i’m doing, and i’m already here.”

minji inhales sharply when you press against the cut. “fine.” she croaks out.

she sits down on the counter, legs hanging off as you clean around the wound, blood soaking the small towel. you add some disinfectant, hearing her wince lowly and grip the counter not-so-subtly, so you grab her hand, squeezing comfortingly.

“it’s okay, i’m here.” you mumble, looking up at her. 

minji feels her heart tighten.

“thank you.”

you hum.

you bandage the wound carefully, relieved it’s not deep enough to require stitches. spiderwoman glances at her rib area, gently sliding her fingers over your handiwork. she looks back at you, a soft smile playing under her mask.

she watches you look back, frowning.

“what’s wrong?” minji asks.

“you’re bleeding.”

“you patched me up.”

shaking your head, you do something that makes minji short-circuit. your hand falls to her jawline, your thumb grazing the edge near her chin before pressing down. minji feels a sharp pain she hadn't noticed before. when you pull your thumb away, you stare at the smear of blood on it, holding it up to show her.

“it wasn’t just your abdomen.” you explain, then the worry fills your eyes again. “you’re bleeding through your mask.”

“oh,”

“can i? i won’t do it all the way, just past your lip to treat the wound.”

minji hesitates, then nods. “yeah, that’s okay. no more than that.”

“of course.”

you tremble a little as you roll up her mask tantalizingly. your fingers meet her skin just barely, but she still hears her breath hitching and her throat drying up.

you’re looking at her exposed lips before you even pay attention to the cut on her jawline. they’re plump and parted before you, catching your eye effortlessly. after gazing for a few seconds longer, you cradle her face in one hand to keep her in place as you dab an alcohol wipe over the cut – she winces.

“sorry.”

“it’s fine.”

a few seconds later and there’s a bandaid on her jawline now, courtesy of you.

she softly rubs the bandaid, then brings her mask back down. she clears her throat,

“thank you.”

“it’s nothing.”

“you didn’t have to.”

“i want to.” your expression is hard to read, a mix of worry and pity, but also admiration. “you’re a hero, you should be treated like one.”

“i just have responsibilities.”

“well, you should be someone’s responsibility too.”

“why yours?”

“because i care – a lot.”

minji stays silent for a while, staring at you through the mask. she feels beyond lucky, a little emotional too. her chest tightens slightly, urging her to look away from you and scoot away. 

you frown again.

–

the next day minji shows up next to you nervously with hanni by her side. you’re with jungwon at your locker, conversing with him until you feel a tap on your shoulder. when you turn around, you’re more than happy to see minji.

she has a small cut on her jawline in the same area and with the same bandage. there’s no denying that spiderwoman stands before you, but you’ll let her know a different way.

jungwon watches her hand you a flashdrive, her other hand clutching the strap of her bag. 

“um, these are the pictures.” her lips move the same way as spiderwomans, and they’re just as alluring. “ ihave the edited and original versions of each, just tell me which one you like the most.”

without warning, you reach over and hug her. she widens her eyes, and so do hanni and jungwon as they watch everything unfold. you purposely slide your hand over the wound on her rib area, pressing on it slightly and hearing her sharply exhale in your ear.

it’s her, it’s definitely her – you couldn’t be any happier that it’s her. minji’s sweet, caring, and very attentive, her personality fits her alter ego perfectly.

you pull away from her and smile, your hands gently resting on her forearm, holding her in place. minji feels a rush of warmth hit her cheeks like a summer heatwave, her heart pounding in her chest. 

“you’re literally the best, thank you minji.” 

“y-yeah, it’s no problem.” 

hanni looks dumbfounded watching the exchange. she turns to minji after you walk away with jungwon, and her best friend is smiling like an idiot. hanni almost gags.

–

a week passes by, you and minji have spent more mornings before class together, even conversing after school time to time. 

minji seems to have healed, the bandage on her cheekbone is gone and there’s a faint line that indicates a former cut on her face, but it’s not noticeable under her concealer. you’re happy to see that she’s getting better physically – much faster than the normal person, you might add.

(because she’s spiderwoman, you know she’s spiderwoman.)

you’ve spent more time admiring minji, your crush on her growing deeper and it almost makes you forget that she has a whole other persona. you can’t remember a single thing about the arachnid while staring at her brown eyes and pretty pink lips.

–

there’s not much crime for a little while, not until two weeks after the night you had patched up spiderwoman (kim minji, the prettiest girl in the school). 

a video on instagram reaches four thousand views in three minutes, the video showing spiderwoman leaping off a building and knocking down some lunatic with legs made of metal. some scientists really need to stay thinking inside the box, because giving yourself additional limbs to steal from organizations is just insane.

you watch as spiderwoman gets tackled to the ground at ador labs, grappling with manmade tentacle arms using her enhanced strength. sitting on the edge of your bed, you bite the inside of your lip when you see her shoulder get cut by the edge of a mechanical hand.

thankfully, the police arrive just in time to assist. they shoot at the villain, whose face bears an uncanny resemblance to the ceo of jyp manufacturing, distracting him long enough for spiderwoman to kick him off and shoot webs at his goggles.

the person recording has a steadier hand than the last, capturing the way spiderwoman uses her webs to launch herself at the man and kick him in the chest. she quickly rips off two of the tentacles, causing the remaining ones to shut down.

she collapses to the ground, clearly exhausted, but scrambles back up and onto her feet as the police start to close in on her. she’s swift and smart, easily fleeing the scene in no time.

you had left your apartment the moment the video ended, and now you find yourself back at school, catching your breath and processing everything you just witnessed as yourush towards the nurses office.

opening the door, you catch spiderwoman sitting on the floor and leaned against the counter tiredly, clutching her shoulder. 

“my god,”

“you came.” she says, practically a breath. 

“of course i did, i saw the video.”

“i’m so tired.”

“and you’re hurt.”

“it’s not that bad actually, this one’s actually a scratch.”

“bullshit.” you mumble, quickly rushing over to tend to her wound. 

the routine unfolds without much change: you gently clean away the blood, carefully applying disinfectant. minji fights to suppress her cries of pain, but the discomfort is clear in the way her body tenses and reacts. you offer her comfort, your hand resting reassuringly over hers. through the mask, minji gazes at you with a mixture of awe and gratitude, feeling like she’s witnessed rain after a drought.

“thank you.”

“it’s nothing.” you’ve said it countless times, minji’s said it back to you when she was just minji and not someone under a suit that could swing webs, save the day, and get hurt for you to take care of her. “i mean it.”

you sit beside her, your arms pressing comfortably against each other, and lean your head against the cabinet door beneath the counter. 

minji—spiderwoman—is the first to turn her head and look at you. she visibly relaxes as her gaze settles on your side profile. you turn to meet her eyes, offering a soft sigh, feeling a shared calm in the quiet space between you.

“can i,” your voice quiets down to something near a hum. “can i kiss you?”

“w-what?” minji feels her throat go dry and blood rushing to her cheeks, it’s so sudden, you must be more exhausted than her. “i, um, i don’t know if you’d like that. you barely know me.”

“sure i would, spiderwoman.”

minji doesn’t stop you when you reach over to the bottom of her mask, rolling it up. she could stop you, but she’s stuck in place, unable to move despite how risky it is for you to find out who she really is.

there’s no chance you’d stick with her if you knew who she really was, she’s been too comfortable hiding behind this “spiderwoman” persona, hiding who she really is.

you roll the mask up less than halfway, the bottom half of her face exposed to you. the wind hits her skin and she shivers.

minji feels transparent. “i, um–”

“pretty,” you stare hard at her lops, then lean closer. “you’re so pretty.”

“you haven’t seen my whole face.”

“and yet you’re still kissable.”

“y/n, i—“ she cuts herself off, words stopping at her throat as you tilt your head and place a hand where her jaw meets her neck. she begins again, unknowingly leaning closer. “i don’t think you’d be happy with the person under the suit.” she mutters quietly.

“sure i would,” you murmur, then press your lips against hers softly. you feel her kiss back and smile into her. you part just barely, your lips ghosting hers, “kim minji.”

minji hums surprisingly when you kiss her again, still reciprocating but quickly pulling away with a gasp.

“w-what? how did—“ she clears her throat, “who’s kim minji?”

you don’t respond to her question, instead, reaching for the edge of her partially rolled-up mask and laughing softly.

“can i?”

“um,” minji folds when you look at her like that, eyes pleading and face pretty as the moon shines through the window and highlights your features. “yeah…”

you smile at her, removing the mask off her head fully to see your classmate and crush under it. she’s battered up and her hair is messy because of the mask, plus, she looks fatigued. despite this, she just looks cuter in your eyes.

without warning, you lean in again, pressing your lips against hers. minjis eyes widen momentarily before she sinks into your touch, placing a hand on your cheek and melting into you. 

when you two pull away again, you grin at the way the moon shines on her, exposing the deep blush on her cheeks and the nervousness in her features.

“why wouldn’t i want to kiss you?”

“how did you— how’d you find out?”

you shrug. “i’ve liked you for a while now, i didn’t even know it until the night you gave me your hoodie. i mean, i always thought you were cute. i paid more attention to you and all the bruises and scars added up, and i could recognize those lips from a mile away.”

she blushes intensely, the manages to breathe out a small “oh.”

“mhm.” you hum once more before hastily pecking her lips. “you’re so cute.”

“wait, you actually… do you really like me?”

“of course i do minji.”

“it’s not becuase im spiderwoman, right?” 

“no,” you grin at her dumb expression. “i like spiderwoman because she’s you, minji.”

“seriously?”

you groan, looking at her with a stupid ‘are you serious’ expression painted on your face. “do i need to kiss you again?”

“um,” minji starts, but stops herself from being so dense. “yeah, please.”

“okay.” you respond happily, cupping her cheek and closing the distance again. 

you smell like vanilla and feel like snowflakes in the spring. as you cradle her jaw and kiss her softly, minji tries to figure out if she’s dreaming. your arms wrap around her neck, pulling her closer. minji's lips gently hold your top lip, while you play with the ends of her hair, twirling it between your fingers.

“hey, minji?” you pull away to softly mumble against her lips, then minji hums in response. “let’s go out sometime, is that okay?”

“of course, yeah, please.” she sighs lovingly.

yeah, it’s not a dream.

it can’t be because you pull away and look at her like she’s the prettiest flower in a field of nothing. you smile at her, holding her face in your hands like she’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

[lostinlovingrevery]

Messy Paint, Messy Bodies

Trilogy! Logan X F! Reader

You and Logan make your own work of art

A/N: Hm, indulging in my painter self with this one...Enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, messy sex, lil romantic sex, unprotected piv, creampie, paint lol, new established relationship, reader is an art teacher

Logan didn’t really consider himself an art type of person.

The most he’s ever done with paint was paint a house. He may have done a few bored scribbles on a piece of napkin, maybe in his younger years, he pursued painting to calm his nerves- but didn’t continue because he ran out of patience for it. 

Didn’t necessarily hate art, could appreciate a nice scenic landscape here and there. Especially ones that remind him of home. Suppose music and film are art too- and he appreciates those as well. He just wasn’t the type necessarily to stand around a museum drinking wine and staring at blank paintings trying to decipher what it all means. 

The only work of art that he could really appreciate is you.

The cute art teacher at Xaviers School for The Gifted. You were a bit strange but loving. The students loved you. You took an interesting approach to how you taught your classes, combining art and ethics together to help the young mutants find themselves in a world that they weren't accepted in. 

The day he came to the mansion, the day he met you. He was hooked. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was the way you smiled at him that eased his nerves when he stormed into Charles's office. How your eyes, they held nothing but kindness even as he lashed out at everyone like a wounded, scared animal. 

Or maybe he just thinks you’re pretty to look at.

Like art.

The weekend has arrived, and the school was almost completely empty from students either visiting parents, or going out to on the field trip to the local zoo with the other professors chaperoning. 

Logan, as per usual took this chance to sleep in late as possible and be completely lazy all morning, going into noon. Sprawled out in bed, with sheets that barely covered him and the afternoon sun streaming into the bedroom. He felt relaxed, peace, quiet, warm sunny spot to sleep in- except something was missing.

He climbed out with a groan, pulling on sweats and a t-shirt before leaving, and making a leisure walk to where he knew he’d find you. 

He made his way to your study, where your door was cracked open and he peered inside.

Your study- always a mess of paper and art supplies. Not because of you, but mainly because your students barge inside and tear it apart trying to find a specific color marker, or a certain paintbrush. It irritates the hell out of him, how brazen they are with your office but you always make him back off. 

They’re just being creative Lo,

Your back was turned to him, and you sat crossed-legged on a stool. You were focused, deep into your current painting. 

He stepped inside quietly, approaching you from behind as he took in some details of your current work in progress. He wasn’t an art man, no, but he could appreciate your art. The way you you carefully stroked your brush, how you chose your colors, and the subject- always something meaningful to you. 

“Logan, youre not very good at sneaking you know.” You say as he was a foot away from you. He smirked. 

“Now how’d you know I was in here?” He put a hand on your back, resting over your bare skin where your shirt rode up your waist. 

“Lo, you weigh like…1000 pounds. Your footsteps are hella heavy. You breathe loud too.”

“No I don’t.” He says, a mock offense in his voice. “Also I’m not 1000 pounds.”

“Suuuuure.” You teased as you looked up at him. He smirked, and you winked at him. You turned back to the painting, chewing on your inner cheek as you pondered you next stroke of color.

“Looks nice.” He says with a hum as he leans over your shoulder. 

“It’s still a work in progress-” You beamed as you turned your head to look at him, and he smirked, his eyes trailing down to your lips. 

He leaned forward and captured you in a kiss, that you happily returned, smiling against his lips. You hand came up to cup his cheek, as you tilted your head to push yourself closer to him.

You haven’t been together long, in fact no one even knows yet that you’ve been together. They don’t know that Logan has been sneaking into your room every night, and back into his every morning. 

When Ororo came by your bedroom early this morning, to make sure you didn’t change your mind about coming with everyone to the zoo. She didn’t know Logan laid sprawled on your mattress- buttass naked and you had to nearly slam the door in her face so she wouldn’t come in- as she usually would. 

While you happy with Logan- really happy actually. Everyone has remarked that your cheery demeanor has been even more cheery as of late. A lingering worry was in your head though- as you wondered exactly what was you and Logan’s relationship? 

It came to be when certain feelings came to light, and you hooked up one stormy night. Since then, you haven’t had a night where Logan wasn’t in your bed. Quiet whispers of flirts in rooms with others around, discreet passing touches in hallways. Logan would slip you little love notes, and surprise you by putting flowers and little gifts in your study or bedroom. The romantic gestures were sweet- and shocked you a bit. Always had acted like a lone wolf before you got together. You didn’t expect the big bad Wolverine to be a complete teddy bear.

Not that you’re complaining. You always knew there were other sides of him, sides that just needed a little love and support, in order to open up.  

Maybe it was silly to worry about putting a label on your relatioship, especially when he’s so sweet to you- But just like your own paintings, it never felt complete until you gave it a name.

You parted from his lips, smiling up at him and removing your hand- only to realize you had smeared paint on his face.

“Oh!” You giggled, lifting and turning your hand to show him the fresh paint on your palm. “I got it on your face.” 

“Really?” He brought his hand to his cheek, touching the paint smeared there and pulling his fingers back. “Trying to turn me into one of your pretty paintings sweetheart?”

“I don’t need to handsome,” you flirt, “You’re already a work of art.” 

A deep blush filled his cheeks, his eyes grew heavy as he looked down at you. Rendered speechless from your flirt. 

He leaned down to capture your lips in another kiss. Deep and sensual, one that made you off guard. You didn’t notice when he slowly reached his hands over, dipping into the palette of paint that sat on the bedside table. He brought it to your cheek, cupping it and you immediately felt the wetness. 

Gasping and pulling away, you saw the paint spread on his hand. 

“Logan!” You laughed. You grabbed your brush, and attacked him by painting a streak down his nose. He laughs, warm and mischievous and grabbing the brush from your hand to return the favor by brushing against your other cheek. 

It erupted into something more. You stood up from your stool, grabbing your palette and smearing paint on your hands as you looked at him with a devious grin. 

“Hey-” Logan held his hand up to you. “Don’t-”

You charged at him, smearing your hand onto his arm, and then across his white tank-top. He tried to get away, but you managed to smear more on his face and into his beard as well. He grabbed a tube of paint nearby, and grabbed you around your waist before you could get away- squeezing it under your shirt and smearing paint along your chest while you squeal in laughter.

It escalated, Logan caught you in a wet, passionate kiss to distract you from smearing more paint onto him. Things became intense, the smearing of paint over your bodies made it messy, your arms and lips slipping over each other- creating works of art onto each others skin.

Before you knew it Logan was peeling your clothes off. Mumbling something about a mess as he dropped your t-shirt to the floor, and peeled off your bra. You giggled, your hands- smeared with a multitude of rainbows found his shirt, have been painted and ruined like yours and tugged it off. You pressed your hands to his chest, and began smearing it down to his stomach, paint stuck to his thick chest hair. You pressed eager pecks to his lips as he backed you against a table that held your art supplies. 

“Logan-” You giggled into his mouth when he brushed a bunch of your supplies off to the floor. “You’re lucky none of that was expensive-”

“I’d buy you new ones,”

“Oh, you’re gonna be my sugar daddy now?” You teased as he began to work your jeans off, his handprints now staining over them- you’ll definitely figure out a way to save those marks. 

“Baby, I’ll be anything you want.” He mumbles into your lips as you tugged his sweatpants down to his thigh. Not to your surprise, his hard cock waved as he popped out from his sweats. 

He tugged your panties off, throwing them into the pile of clothes, you hooked your arms around his shoulders, tugging him closer as you licked his lips- tasting paint that somehow smeared. Your skin slipped together, mixing the rainbow of colors together while Logan nipped your lips. 

“Would you be my love?” You whisper as he buries his face into your skin, nipping at your skin even as he tasted paint on his tongue, your hands curled into his hair, leaving strands be covered in blues and reds and purples and yellows. 

He froze, and for a moment your heart stopped- wondering if you crossed a line. He lifted his head to look at you and you admired the pinks and whites and blues that have been smeared over his cheeks, nose, and beard. He didn’t look scared, or put-off, but his expression held something serious. 

He brought his hands to cup your cheek, looking into your eyes. 

“If you’ll have me.” He says softly. You smiled, mirth escaping you as you nodded, tugging him back to you as you wrapped your legs around his hips and hooked your ankles , his heavy cock pressed to your belly. 

Your lips met again, a newfound vigor and passion between you both as paint continued to smatter over your writhing bodies. He tugged your hips closer as he angled himself to your weeping hole, dripping with your arousal and begging for him to fill you up.

He pushed himself inside, spearing you open. You gasped, mouth falling open and burying your nails into his scalp, tugging at the curls of his hair. He licked into your mouth, licking your tongue and teeth. You laughed, tipping your head back as he buried himself to the hilt. 

“Feel so goddamn perfect baby-” He groans, his strong arms wrapping around you and tugging you impossibly closer. His forehead rests against yours, your noses smashed together, and he began thrusting in and out of you. Warmth flooded through you, you melted into his arms- you always melt into him.

Your hips meet with each slow, prepared thrust, Logan pants as he smashes his lips on yours again. He gently pushed you down onto the table, which creaked under your weight. His hands gripped your hips bruisingly as he picked up pace and began pounding into you.

“Lo-” You moaned, hands falling off him attempting to grab the edge of the table. He stood up, keeping his pace but hooking his arms under your legs and spreading them wider. You cried out, as the new angle sent shocks up your spine- he hit that perfect spot inside you that had your toes curling and your body trembling. 

“Calling me a work of art darling?” He moaned. “Take a look at yourself-.” He moans, “Fucking gorgeous, ain’t never seen something pretty as you baby.” 

“Logan,” You whined. “I’m- I-”

“I know baby-” He grunted, thrusting hard and faster as he felt you tighten around him, that burning hot feeling in his lower tummy fast approaching. He leaned back over you, your legs still hooked over his biceps as he buried himself into you over and over. You reached your finish- crying out Logan's name as your back arched into him and your hands pulled at his hair. 

He met in another wet kiss as he fucked you through your finish, pounding into you at a near inhuman pace before slamming inside and shooting ropes of cum with a loud grunt, whining into your mouth as he shook over your body. Your pussy tightened around him, like it was milking him of every drop. 

Once you both finished, he collapsed onto your chests. Panting onto your painted breasts, while you tried to come back to your body. He carefully pulled out, and sat up with you, not before pressing several loving kisses over your face while you pushed yourself up limply.

You took each other in- and then the room, realizing just how big of a mess was made of not just yourselves- but the entire room. Paint spilled and splattered on walls and furniture.  

A heartbeat passed, and giggles erupted from you both. Logan wrapped you in an embrace and kissed your temple. Paint had covered you both, stuck in your hair, messily smeared over your face, mixed together in a muddy color along your chest and arms. 

“We need to wash up!- especially before anyone sees.” You laughed and hopped off the table, your legs shook as you still were recovering from your coitus, as you clung onto Logan. 

“Yeah, give us some time for round two,” He purrs, and you smile up at him. Warmth came over you, as you realized that you finally had a name for him, some assurance to what your relationship was.

You both redressed in your painter smattered clothes, just to be able to walk to your bedroom in some decency and to shower. Before you could leave your study- Logan swooped in and picked you up like a bride, leaving you giggling.

He stepped into the hallway, with you in his arms, quietly mumbling sweet nothings to each other. 

“Well, you guys have been busy.” 

You both froze, as Logan turned to the direction of Ororos voice, who stood in the hall with a hand on her hip. 

“Now I see why you didn’t want to come to the zoo.” 

[s-4pphics]

more fratadjacent!ellie and adhdhaving!reader and their impulsive nature because why not fuck it. it’s tuesday.

a lil freaky at the end but nun crazy. mentions of drugs and sex lol

—

“You’re back early.”

Yeah, maybe. Your bottle’s been empty for a day and a half and you're knocking on the devil’s door a week in advance, but who could blame you?

Your productivity was at an all time high throughout these last couple weeks. The schedule was the same; pop one of Ellie’s gifted dexies at 7:30am, inhale a concerning amount of coffee, and breeze through every annotation assignment, paper, project, pre-rec review. Everything, everything. Every fucking bothersome pest that you’ve put off for the better part of the term was completed within a two week time frame.

What the fuck was in that bottle?

Sure, your usual supply redirects your priorities, hushes the distracts that make your brain whirlwind—your work gets finished, but this? “Dextro”? It’s not the dex you know and love. You rode an accomplished high for three days straight. You can’t recall the last time you’ve slept or eaten properly but you don’t want to. The ball of meat in the middle of your skull told you you were satisfied, just as long as you’re dex-ed up.

This may be withdrawals. You’re uncharacteristically twitchy; possibly from the thrill of seeing Head Druglord. Or maybe your body’s trying to force a cleanse to filter all the man-made chemicals out of your body.

You hope your body betrays you. Midterm preparations are around the corner.

“Yeah.”

“Glad to see you’re still around.”

Around meaning alive and not drowning in a pool of your own vomit, you suppose. Cute. Funny. You don’t laugh. “Okay.”

Ellie nods down at your sneakers with that same cunning sparkle. “New shoes?”

“No.” It’s almost their five year anniversary. She smiles a bit too brightly, too prettily. Your fingers won’t stop shaking.

“Need that fill?” Condescendingly hushed, a brow arched in questioning despite already knowing the answer. She looks hot but you can’t process it because you’re out. Muscle memory leads you at all times; one swift reach into the water holder of your backpack for the pill bottle, shoved miraculously with thirty bucks. A repayment for last time.

She doesn’t acknowledge your silent indication of restocking the goddamn jar. “You gotta second? I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

You blink dumbly.

Spidey senses tingle, urge you to freeze or run for your fucking life. Ellie’s a stranger. Albeit weird and hot, but a stranger, the main ones you were trained not to trust. But your best friend trusts her enough to send you her way.

“You can say no, I’ll still stock you.” She snorts.

Temptation is your greatest demon. Your feet answer for you with every step into her apartment.

—

Her residence is surprisingly normal.

Posters. A lot of Greek mythology textbooks. A cracked TV. A ripped squishmallow. There’s a giant star painted on the ceiling. How she managed the lines with such precision is fucking insane. You can barely do the five-lined crossover stars with accuracy, let alone no crosses—

“Do you smoke?” She wisps brightly, interrupting your train of thought.

“Used to. I tweaked once and never touched it again.”

“Shit… maybe I shouldn’t ask you—“

“What is it, Ellie?”

She leans up against her dining table, hands shoved in her hoodie pockets. “I gotta new pack.”

“Congrats.”

She snickers, “I think you’d make a good tester.” She proposes and you squint.

“Do I look like a lab rat?”

She assesses from your head to your busted sneakers with a mischievous glint. “A bit.” She snarks jokingly.

Said stranger is now asking to smoke you out. Free of charge again. The hairs on your arms stand at attention. Freaked the fuck out.

According to filmmakers, the only reason a dealer would ask another stranger to test any product for them is: a vendetta. To kill their ass with no trace, lure them in with white only to shoot them in the face. Or…

Or. Big fucking or.

This may be her flirting. Fucking for free drugs, but you’re not a prostitute. You’re just stupid. And you also haven’t fucked, you hardly know her last name—so maybe not, but it could be. Ellie’s a slut according to everyone that breathes on campus so fucking maybe.

“Are you trying to fuck me?”

You expect an exaggerated reaction—wide eyes, dropped jaw, even a little gasp from the random accusation, but none display. Still a chill pickle.

“No. Are you?”

Your exhale leaves in wobbles. “No.”

“You sound unsure.” She smirks.

“I…”

“Oh?” She hums lowly.

“Shut up.”

“What, you can ask me but I can’t ask you?”

“I-I’m… I—“

She laughs to herself. “If you wanna, we can. Wherever,” she waves a finger around her living room, “just not my room, ‘s messy.”

��This is weird as fuck.”

“You brought it up. Your bottle’s right there...” she lazily points towards the dresser that— oh. Lots of labeled pill bottles, lots of baggies with white shit in them. Lots of green, both smokable and wrapped with rubber bands. How’d you not see that there?

“You can leave that one and go,” she nods towards the one in your hand that holds her cash, “we can fuck, or you can be a tester. Or all three if you’d like, no particular order.”

No fight or flight skills, spidey senses silenced by temptation. Of course this is the outcome.

Your backpack thuds to the floor before you kick your shoes off, eyes locked onto Ellie’s that follow your jerky movements a bit too closely.

“You’re funny.” She mumbles, and your lashes flutter.

“What… what strain?”

A hand leaves her pocket, thumb and index bunched around the corner of a ziploc that holds three pre-rolls, eyes twinkling suggestively.

“Find out.”

[derocatem]

Another new tumblr page! Welcome welcome!

I was wondering your thoughts on some of the Bleach captains with a very petite s/o? Think like… 4’8 - 5’2 , teeny tiny lil things. Someone who “looks” frail at first glance. Is someone smaller their type? Would that factor into any pursuit? 👀 You can go into NSFW territory if you like, but I’d be happy with SFW too!

miniature love(r) || gotei 13

summary/ask: bleach captains with tiny/petite s/o! (height underneath 5’2 / 157 cm tall)

content warnings | manga spoilers!!, separated in sfw/nsfw, sfw- mostly fluff (a little bit of angst) and my personal opinions of them having tiny fem s/o, teasing, kissing and physical affection, mentions of kids and domestic life, i think that’s it for this part, nsfw - so smut of course (minors dni), fem! reader, neutral skin color reader, yapping too much about kinks ,size kink go BRRRRR, oral (receiving), different sex positions, wlw!!, overstimulation, breeding + pregnancy + kids mentioned, mentions after care + more…

a/n - #1 i am actually using tumblr last 3 years but i just recently got back into writing lol and you got my european ass to convert those feet’s and inches to centimeters, 😦 i am like 5’8-9 feet ( around 175 cm-ish tall ) so please if i didn’t get a good point in this writing im sorry 😭, didn’t write for old man Yama, sorry not sorry honestly, he’s best grandpa tho <3

#2 also to say i wrote for captains in that picture (start of tybw lineup) if you are interested in past/future captains please send me a request! i don’t mind doing them later on~ Toshiro is aged up (grown up/him using his complete bankai)!

SFW!

Suì-Fēng is interesting one since she is not the tallest one (as tall as 150 cm (4'11")) definitely so she is leaning more into taller or at least average sized ones. However i don’t think she minds someone around her height, they can get each other struggles and solve then like you climbing on her shoulders to get a food from a high cabinet in a kitchen or gets in a tiny space together comfortably, yeah i think she is content with it!

Rōjūrō Ōtoribashi would like to have someone dandy on his side, dressing you up in fancy clothes and accessories. Having you as his dress up doll at home~ (sorry this is dry, i don’t like his characters that much lol)

Retsu (Yachiru) Unohana isn’t that tall either being 159 cm (5'2½") tall but her terrifying aura so there is no one pick on you and definitely not her in entire Seireitei so that’s nice <3 However i see her personal preference is someone taller but she also doesn’t mind having “a puppy” following her in free time ;)

Shinji Hirako, this little shit of a man would tease you till a day you die, picking on you as you are just trying to do your job or just passing by, he would put just get your paperwork and lift it that his lanky ass could reach and stuck his tongue out at you, eventually giving in and giving it back with a playful grin and a kiss on a side of your cheek as a apology, saying he won’t tease you again and then teasing you AGAIN not even an hour later 🤦‍♀️

Byakuya Kuchiki would honestly prefer someone who is tiny imo, that has already been proven right since he was with Hisana who is most likely same size as Rukia so there is no doubt. As a head of a clan he likes the feeling that his dearest could rely on him in anything, call it whatever you want but it brings him a sense of something he lost once and he is not planning to lose it again.

Sajin Komamura is TALLEST one 288 cm (9'5½") so as i said he would be probably more found of someone taller or average sized…however! that’s doesn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy having you around, in both of his forms he would carry you bridal style at late night hours or when Seireitei is empty so you two could have your time without having a fear of being judged or made fun of because of your appearances.

Shunsui Kyōraku, this man hoe likes every woman. He is a proud women lover. He loves any shape, size and complexion in women, he would absolutely adore having you close to him anywhere, especially in his bed late at night as he brushes your wedding rings together :)

Kensei Muguruma is on a more neutral side since i can see him wanting a tall and strong s/o he can fight and train with, but something in me is telling me that he’s a traditional man, he likes to be needed and wanted, be able to stood out in front of you proud, strong and straight to protect you.

Tōshirō Hitsugaya would finally be relieved that there is another person that is small, he’s so mf tiny that you are just maybe slightly taller than him anyway, in his true bankai form he’s around Byakuya’s height so he just might indulge himself into telling you a slight teasing comment, yeah i think he would like someone tiny to match him-

Kenpachi Zaraki would have a smaller s/o without a need for you to be smaller than an average woman in height, he’s like tall-tall, strong and intimidating compared with every race anyway. However i do have a feeling that he would like to have someone so dandy and small like Yachiru since she is a practically a part of his soul so he is found of tiny and cute things. Since his little Yachiru left ( :( ) you had become one who would sit on his shoulder as you two have to go anywhere, imo he probably wishes that one day if you two had a little kid together that it would be little girl who is his eyes is a little Yachiru who you two take care of, but this one have a little eyes just like yours and he likes that very much <3

Mayuri Kurotsuchi, this is weird one because i can see him not really having a type? He barely likes anyone, yet your tiny ass got underneath his skin and now you are here for him. Following him as you two raise Nemuri together, you 3 now looking like a real family!

Jūshirō Ukitake :( gosh i love him so much, anyway he is so nice with you, since you both are physically not very strong, it would make it easy but he fears he couldn’t protect you in time because of his fragile body :( yeah, can definitely see him with tiny s/o <3

NSFW!

Suì-Fēng - i think she loves classic scissoring as you two play w each other’s clits, can’t go well with that one and also, just sit on her face when she’s angry and don’t you dare to put only 10 percents of your body weight on her, fucking sit on it like a chair and let her spend her big mouth on a good job between your legs~

Rōjūrō Ōtoribashi - into Dacryphilia, absolutely loves when you get all pretty and dolled up especially in tiny dress, Pretzel Dip or missionary as you cry from overstimulation, looking so ruined and perfect just for him <3

Retsu (Yachiru) Unohana - man, if you haven’t died when she showed a 8 inch strap up your vagina and fucked you like she hate your guts you are good 👍 anyway, she fucking loves when you ride her or when she puts you in a mating press, absolutely filthy as she splits in your mouth you just because. ( she had a secret breeding kink but shush 🤫 don’t say you heard it from me, also i got some trans!Unohana thoughs, anyone interested in hearing it? comment down please!)

Shinji Hirako - he’s such a meanie in bed too ☹️, i mean he would literally yank you back by your ankle and continue giving you head with his pierced tongue, gosh the overstimulation is crazyyyy with him. Absolutely loves snuggling after it and his hand sliding on your side gently as it went to tease your kitty cat AGAIN-

Byakuya Kuchiki - he must be in love w you if he brings you to his bed so missionary or any position where he can see your face and kiss it is a must, he makes love with you and genuinely only fuckes you if he is jealous or mad, probably have a savior kinks/hints of it sometimes + soft kisses down your back as he praises you after 🥹

Sajin Komamura - (human version) when you two have sex he can’t help but to have a need to make you his because of wolf genetics in him so pretzel dip or prone bone are his favorite positions to make your tiny mind mindless as he might just cums inside if you especially in spring 🤭

Shunsui Kyōraku - loves cowgirl/any version of it so he doesn’t have to do too much at least at the start, see you bouncing on top of his cook as it’s tip bullies your cervix is a fever dream, pressing against your lower back or tummy just for your pussy get a death grip on his dick, isn’t fully interested in pulling out so pregnancy is inevitable sooner or later my dear 🫡

Kensei Muguruma - he is a simple man so he goes doggy or full nelson, fucks to fucks and myb slightly into bondage?? absolutely makes you squirt by fingering you, hate sex??? he absolutely demolish your poor pussy if you flirt w Shinji or Rose, he will kiss your forehead after it tho <3

Tōshirō Hitsugaya - (grown up version) doesn’t have that high of a sex drive but he adores you so he indulge into your horny cravings of him, loves spooning or Scissoring (just mlw) so he can kiss your shoulders or forehead as he for sure makes you cum couple of times at end of the night, secretly loves cookwarming but shushhh 🫢

Kenpachi Zaraki - actually fuckes you in every position possible and everywhere you can imagine, loves stand and deliver (The Bicycle position) as he is chocking you while pounding into your tight kitty, your bodies only stability is his arm that you are gripping for dear life and yes, he isn’t pulling out since he say so <3

Mayuri Kurotsuchi - doesn’t have that high of sex drive but he would absolutely make you deepthroath his length if you are bratty enough, probably some doctor/patient roleplay, people of Seireitei are scared to see his genuine smile if they see a little girl with both of your features??

Jūshirō Ukitake - my sweet man can only had cow girl/variations + missionary sex position with you so he doesn’t finish too soon, absolutely PERFECT with his fingers and has a praise kink so absolutely praise the living shit out of him as you make love underneath the moonlight all night long so he can be happy <333

[celli-ohs]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 TXT's Hello Baby!

. . . aka TXT as "fathers" starring in the variety show 'Hello Baby'

genre: headcanons, fluff, a lil bit of crack, a teeny bit of angst warnings: none! word count: 2.3k

author's note: I've been having baby fever, so I was rewatching Hello Baby, specifically SHINee's season (my fav!). it got me thinking of how TXT would be on this show. I spent way more time writing this than I should have, it's been in my drafts for so long with how much I added over weeks lmao. lmk if you guys like this! i might do other groups depending on how well this does lol

comments/reblogs appreciated!!✗♡✗♡

WHAT'S HELLO BABY?

Hello Baby is a variety show by KBS in which idols experience parenthood by caring for one or more babies or toddlers for a certain period of time, usually a couple of months. They also perform "missions" throughout the show to test their skills as parents. The show aired from 2009 to 2013 and starred popular idols like Girls' Generation and SHINee!

The idol groups are usually given letters from the families regarding the children's health, habits, and likes. The show also shines a light on how each child has a different personality, how they express their feelings, and how the idols themselves learn to raise children and help them grow as individuals. Their missions can consist of something small, like making the children snacks, or something larger, for example creating a musical with the kids (MBLAQ did this in their season!). Usually, every episode each group member will compete to see who is the best "parent" by having the children pick who they like the most.

For TXT, I imagine them having to care for two children. To make it fair in this headcanon, one boy and one girl, both between the ages 3-5. (All of my headcanons are based off of interactions TXT has had with children from various videos and media found off the internet!)

CHOI YEONJUN ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃

the type of “dad” that is extremely affectionate to the children, he’s a sucker for aegyo, smiles, kisses, etc.

he can't help but spoil them, he will buy them as many gifts as they want if that makes them happy, even if his wallet goes empty

he loves skinship the most: giving/receiving hugs and kisses, tickling, cuddling, and he'll even wrestle with the kids for fun

but sometimes this can feel suffocating for the kids, they’ll push him away at times

he is really good at playing with them, specifically in role-playing! he can be a monster, a patient, a superhero, whatever the kids want

he likes to dress up for them too, even if the kids costumes don't fit his long lanky body he will wear it with pride

is really dramatic when he plays, if he's a doctor's patient expect him to be howling in pain

will definitely make a fool of himself in hopes of making them laugh

he tries to impress them with his dance moves, but they don’t really care, this hurts his pride lol

he makes sure those kids eat good, and will make/order any food they want

while he’s really good with the children when they’re happy, he has a harder time when they’re upset, sad, or angry

when one or both of them cry, he will panic and try to make the situation better rather than comfort them

when they’re feeling down or upset, he will try to make them laugh, which works sometimes, others he will fail

when the kids are angry, whether at him or another member, he has a hard time trying to diffuse the situation

he doesn’t want to be too aggressive and scare them yet he also wants to be able to discipline them, usually it ends with the kids crying anyway

he's voted the 3rd most popular "dad", a position he excitedly accepts, he’s happy the children like him so much

at the end of the show, when giving his video letter to the kids, he will tear up and cry a little, he didn't expect to become so attached to them but he's happy and grateful to have met them

I think he'd keep in touch the most after the show, video calls, little dates, he'd even invite the children to showcases/fan meetings if the families allow

CHOI SOOBIN ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃

the type of "dad" who is responsible and reliant but he’s a worrywart

is always checking up on the kids: making sure they like the food, the clothes they wear, and how they’re feeling

he used to not like/really care for kids, but now has a soft spot for them

he’s absolutely baffled and in love with how tiny the kids are compared to him, he thinks it’s so cute how someone can be so tiny and not know

he’s probably the most gentle of the members around the children

he holds them like they're made of glass

he loves it when the children talk to him, whether it’s intelligible or not he likes their baby talk he finds it super cute

likes to imitate them because of this (he, Yeonjun, and Kai do this the most)

he doesn't ask for kisses or hugs bc he doesn't want to feel like he's forcing the kids to show him affection so he really cherishes when they do

when it comes to playing with the kids though he's lacking, mainly because he has difficulty immersing himself in their games

he will still try his best though, and because of that the kids still enjoy playing with him

will play video games with the kids! something family-friendly, like Mario kart, will have one of the kids sit in his lap and "help" them

soobin is really good at comforting the children though! If they cry he will gladly hold them, pet their hair, rock them back and forth, sing a little, anything to make them feel better

when the children become upset or angry, he panics bc he feels the need to fix the situation as fast as possible, he doesn't like to see the children upset or fighting each other

he's voted 4th best "dad" and honestly he's upset, but at least he's not in last place

still petty as hell though, so he's complaining that he's 4th despite all of his efforts to get along and close to the children

he cries in his video letter. 100%. He just loves the time he got to spend with the kids and he's going to miss them so much, he's really thankful

he keeps in touch, but not as often as Yeonjun. he will call once in a while and go visit with a couple of members every few months

CHOI BEOMGYU ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃

the type of "dad" to act silly and plays with the kids, he wants to relate to them so they like him more

yet bc of this he often embarrasses himself in front of the kids, his members, the audience...

except he's rough, and often goes overboard; he forgets how young they are

also has a tendency to make everything a competition?? will literally brag to the kids that he's better than them (like bro ur a grown-ass man??)

has definitely made the children cry more than once, proceeds to fake cry louder than them

he doesn't mind skinship or affection from the kids, he accepts it graciously

he just won't initiate it himself, he doesn't feel the need to(?) he'd rather have the children verbally tell him they like him or show it by choosing him over the other members

he really likes talking with the children he finds that their perspective on life and how the world works is a bit refreshing, it reminds him of simpler times

when the kids ask him questions, he gives them silly answers

for example: "will a watermelon grow in your tummy if you eat a seed?"

beomgyu will say that it's not true, then eat a watermelon seed in front of them and the next day stuff his shirt and show the children his watermelon tummy

and yes he will scream about how they need to be careful the next time they eat fruits (they started crying because they thought he was sick)

another one who freaks out when the kids cry or get upset he really doesn't know what to do!

he will be visibly panicked, trying to calm them down with promises of a new toy, looking around the room for a member who can help him

but like I said, he's the cause for half of the children's breakdowns, so most of the time when they cry, he gets put in time-out

is voted last place... I mean are we surprised...

will literally start arguing with the kids for picking him last

in his video letter, I don't imagine him crying, but you can tell he's very sentimental, so much so that you would not recognize him to be the naughty "dad" of the group, he seems so pure

surprisingly he will visit them the second most often after the show! the kids love to play with him so he likes to take them to the park or just hang with them at their homes (he still makes them cry though smh)

KANG TAEHYUN ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃

(im ngl i have the least info based on taehyun, there's like even fewer interactions of him with kids that I could find but these are my assumptions with what I could see)

the type of "dad" who is cool and knowledgeable, he's himself but like toned down for kids tbh

is incredibly sweet to them, will indulge in their questions, imagination, etc

knows that children's brains are like sponges, so he tries to turn everything into a fun learning experience!

the way he plays with the kids is through arts and crafts, reading/storytelling, and of course exercising

loves to take the kids to the park, he will most definitely teach them to stretch before running/playing to help their muscles

does magic for the kids! omg they eat it up!! once they know he can do magic they fall in love with him, they call him a wizard

similar to Soobin, he lets the children choose when they want to give kisses and hugs but he also will ask for them as well when he feels like it, just not as frequently as Yeonjun

is surprisingly good at mediating whenever the kids are upset or angry; sure he panics a little, but he's good at hiding it and talking to the kids through their feelings

his only downside is that he doesn't seem to realize the kids are not feeling happy until it's too late, one too many times he has been confused as to why they're crying (if beomgyu isn't the reason)

he has a really calming energy that the children like, it's like it transfers to them they're the best behaved with him

The kids listen to him the most, but no one can pinpoint the exact reason why (Yeonjun and Soobin think it’s because his voice is stern yet reassuring, while Kai and Beomgyu believe it’s because the kids think he's a real wizard and are scared of getting cursed)

is voted 2nd place! he's very proud of this! and yes he does make fun of every member who's below him!

his video letter is very heartfelt, he doesn't cry but you can really feel his sincerity through his message and you can tell he learned a lot about parenting

I like to think that he tends to visit the kids after the show sporadically, sometimes he's alone, sometimes with members, sometimes for hours, sometimes for minutes

HUENING KAI ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃

the "type" of dad who is like a best friend! he's so supportive and loving it's hard to not love him back

is not only kind, he's also very observant and understanding of the children, is the best of the members when it comes to communicating with the children

out of all members I'd say he's the most quipped to being the best "dad" (all thanks to Lea and Bahiyyih!)

they feel a lot of security with him, he's really reassuring and trustworthy

is the best at playing with the kids! no matter what the kids want to do that day, he will give his all and is really quick to adapt to the kids' quick thinking and rule-changing

will play harmless tricks on the other members with the children!

he takes a genuine interest in whatever the kids like, he wants to know why they like it even if he's unfamiliar or not good at it

likes to try and make even normal things fun for the kids, like brushing their teeth, grocery shopping, cleaning the room etc

like Soobin he plays video games with them but always lets the kids win (unlike Beomgyu)

this guy will pull out his guitar and play songs for the kids! actually, any instrument he can get a hold of he will play for them

forms his own lil band with them, teaches them to be gentle with the instruments

will learn to play nursery songs/any song they like so that the kids can sing along (Beomgyu tried this too but could not keep up with the amount of song requests)

again I think it's because he's the middle child, but he's the best at diffusing arguments/fights and mediating such

instead of yelling or getting upset he will try to find a way to comply with both parties

but he also understands that he can't always be friendly, and has moments where he needs to be a bit more serious with the children, he knows how to discipline without scaring the kids or making them feel worse

was voted 1st place! (if you think I'm biased, please watch him and soobin on return of superman on youtube he'd be a great dad!)

is so happy he will dance, sing, bro is having a concert for this immense win

his video letter is so sweet! Kai rarely cries, but I like to imagine he does think extremely fondly of the two children because they remind him of his own family with he was younger so he's a bit more sensitive than usual

but uh oh! bro ghosts them kids just like he ghosts everyone else lmao! the kids only see him when he tags along with the other members, someone is already on the call with them, or just randomly out of the blue (it's not that he doesn't care, he just has a hard time keeping up with people in general)

perm taglist (open): @ancnymcnzjy

kpop masterlist ˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

bookshelf ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

[sky-casino]

baby daddy!oliver aiku

a lil drabble wherein you and oliver had a baby on accident... lol

you work as a waitress at the restaurant that the JP soccer team frequently goes to whenever they finish training or celebrate a win

aiku has been eyeing you for a while now, but you're just focused on work and was a bit aloof so you didn't notice

but one fateful night (lol), aiku was drunk and couldn't hold back anymore and started flirting with you. he asked you to take a break from work and sit next to him. given that the JP soccer team is popular and they're VIP/regulars at the restaurant, your boss told you to not refuse... and the rest is history lmao. you already know what happened 🤭

aiku never saw you again after that tho 🥺 he got busy with practices, games, and participating in blue lock. the next time he was able to visit the restaurant was after almost half a year. so he never saw you... until like 2 years later when he got a knock on the door of his condo unit LMAO

he saw you carrying a 1 year-old baby boy with hair and eyes colored in dark purple and green... 💜💚

he was too stunned to speak 😂 and all you could say at first was "may I come in?" lol

he couldn't even form the questions he wanted to ask, so you took it upon yourself to give the answers. you didn't tell him about the pregnancy cuz you knew that MF was a playboy 💀 you knew he wouldn't take responsibility 💀😭 so you just kept him out of it, decided to keep the baby, and raise him all on your own. you thought that all these would help you avoid stress.

aiku was still standing there wide-eyed lol.. so you continued

"so.. i know you're wondering why I'm here. don't worry, I didn't change my mind. I'm still gonna raise our son on my own. i'm not here to ask for child support or anything like that. i just need a place to stay in for 1 month as my new place is getting fixed. my lease in my old place is up and there are new occupants already, but my new unit is still not prepared. my family has disowned me due to the accidental pregnancy and none of my friends have extra space. so... yeah..."

you rambled on rather embarrassingly, hanging your head low as you finished

after like half a minute of silence, you heard aiku say "okay. sure."

you lifted your head in surprise, you didn't expect him to say yes quickly

days go by and while the atmosphere has a tinge of awkwardness, it wasn't too bad and both of you were quite comfortable in each other's presence. he leaves the apartment to you as he goes to work, and you have a work-from-home job which is perfect as you need to take care of the baby. you also took the initiative of cleaning aiku's condo unit. there's a certain feel of domesticity 🥹

sometimes, you would see aiku try to carry and play with your son. he's so awkward with it but it's endearing to see him try 🥹 cuz tbh you prepared for the worst, which is him not showing any interest in your son at all

(un) fortunately, you got a call from your new landlord saying that the renovation of your unit is facing delays. you told aiku about it and asked if you and the baby could stay for another month, to which he quickly agreed, "sure. no problem", with his signature lil ass smirk 😏😂

one night, aiku held a party at his unit. you know that he's keeping you and the baby a secret from everyone, and you had no problem with it. so his solution was to rent the empty unit next door for that day so you and the baby could stay there while his friends and associates are partying in his place.

as the party was going on, aiku sneakily checked in on you and your son to see if you need anything or if there's any problem. you smiled and said that it's all good. he wanted to stay a bit more but his friends would get suspicious if he's gone for long, they didn't even know where he went lol 😂 so he left soon after but given that he's quite tipsy already, he failed to close the door properly, which you didn't notice

a drunk sendou saw where aiku came from and asked why he was in the next unit. aiku just waved him off and said that he's seeing things. aiku thought sendou believed him and walked away, unaware that sendou went to the next unit... and pushed the door clumsily, swinging it open, scaring you.

sendou asked loudly and drunkenly "why does that baby look exactly like aiku??!! 😱"... he asked it twice or thrice and you just stood there shocked

aiku and the people in the party next door went to your unit... and that's how word got out that aiku is officially a dad 💀😂 fucking sendou lmao

even though aiku and his teammates were hungover the next morning and weren't supposed to go to work, they still did because the JFU manager and PR staff required them to do so lol

they crafted a careful plan on how to handle the situation

they decided to keep the whole thing under wraps for as long as possible, and in case it still gets leaked, then they would just release a statement that aiku is taking responsibility of the child and mother by giving child support, etc.

aiku disagreed, declaring that he wants to reveal the truth now.. the truth that he's living with you and your son. and that the two of you are trying to work things out so you could stay together as a family

everyone was shookt af lmao. like, is this the Oliver Aiku they've known all this time??? 😂

but he had to make a disclaimer that you’re still unaware of his suggested plan, so he told everyone that he had to consult you first and that it will all depend on your decision. if you agree to work things out with him, then aiku himself will release a statement. but if you don't want to be involved with him, then the original plan of JFU and the PR team will be followed

that evening, you and aiku had a deep and serious discussion, about the present and the future, about your son together.

tbh, you were surprised that he wants to work things out with you, that he wants to be a family with you and your baby boy. you admitted that you're scared because given his track record of being a ladies' man, he might suddenly change his mind down the line or cheat on you. you’re afraid of his probable infidelity.

but aiku assured you that he wants you, he even said that he tried to find you again a couple of times 2 years ago, but with no luck. he admitted that never happened before. him? wanting to see and be with a girl for a second time?? fucking unheard of lol. until you 🥹

he knew that if he hides you or lies about you and your baby together, he would lose you forever. even tho you were fine being a secret, he knew you deserve better. he truly loves you and doesn't want to let you go.

you ended up not moving to your new unit at all as aiku bought a bigger place for your family of three, which he intends to grow in the future lmao he wants to make a lil soccer team and you told him that no way in hell you'll give birth 10 more times! 😂

JFU and PR team were worried about the backlash that aiku will get for suddenly having a family. but backlash where? fans and the general public are so supportive of you!

headlines like "JP SOCCER TEAM CAPTAIN FINALLY SETTLES DOWN!" were all over the news lol and the fans are happy for aiku as he ends his fuckboi days 💀😂

the two of you got married a year later. it was a small and intimate ceremony, with sendou as the best man of course😂

[thecheeseoracle]

May I offer some (Trad) Goth Poppy x Rock Branch in these trying times? (～￣▽￣) I tried experimenting with the colors a lil bit but nothing felt right so I decided to keep it plain black!

I apologize if the style is off, I'm not as well versed in gothic clothing as I am in the music :P (GOTH TROLLS FANS RISE UP! (≧∀≦)ゞ)

Also, I gave Branch snakebites bc his face just felt empty without them lol. I might be projecting a lil-

[amourtoken]

Yk i made my post a while ago abt cowboy!Hughes boys and I made a lil blurb abt what they'd be like at concerts so let me add a third random ass installment for you that's a little expanded: Hockey boy tattoo shop?

This is gonna be way longer than it needs to be so buckle up lol I have ideas (this part isn't too spicy but if yall enjoy this I can dive in and get gross w it lol + I plan on adding more people to this but I didn't want it to be too long)

Firstly, Quinn is definitely the fuckin exhausted manager.

Sure he's hired a few front of house people to handle all the scheduling and phone calls and such but he always finds himself up front doing their jobs for them when he's not with a client. He wants to make sure everything is done right and to be truthful he's the equivalent of 5 employees rolled into one when it comes to efficiency so it's not like it takes much time for him, but he's always doing something. You rarely if ever see him sitting down unless he's working on designs for clients prior to their appointments.

Whenever he comes in, he's always dressed extra comfy but he tries to at least look somewhat professional (aka matching his black hoodie to the right colored black sweats on a good day) but ultimately comfort comes first cause he knows he's gonna be at the shop all day. He's usually the first to arrive and the last to leave, always taking the last minute walk ins even if you catch him sighing a little too heavily while he's setting his station up after agreeing. Sometimes you can see the edges of his tattoos if he wears a loose fitting sweatshirt but surprisingly he hides the fact he's damn near got a bodysuit of ink under his clothes that conveniently stops before it reaches his neck or hands (he claims again for professional purposes) He tries to be neat and organized but sometimes you find 2 or 3 (or more if it's been a long day) empty energy drink cans scattered around his space.

Quinn's niche is color realism and neo traditional as of late, it's really insane to see how his art comes to life the longer he works and he really does put so much time and effort into every piece it feels like you can't just call it a tattoo when you leave, it's artwork. While he's working he's relatively quiet, occasionally chiming in to ask how you're feeling and to give an estimate on how much time you've got left per session. If you need a break or some water he's more than happy to provide and the environment he creates for his clients is insanely comforting even if there's not much conversation. He'll put on music for you or some random Netflix show that you can change if you ask to keep your brain busy.

Jack's the resident piercer without a doubt. He thought about getting into tattoos but he likes how fast paced piercing is and feels like it gives him more flexibility throughout his day.

Jack's always hanging out up front and has a tendency to chat up the tattoo clients waiting for consults or appointments till he inevitably gets a handful of walk ins for himself (he's also known to hit on the tattoo clients and ends up getting shooed away by the artists lol) People love him. His energy is the highest at the shop, and he makes the whole experience very lively and fun. He's joking around and fucking with his clients until he's actively piercing you but the second he can divert his focus a bit, he's back to being bouncy and fun again. His station always has music playing and he's got a shit ton of little fidget toys and oddities decorating the space (his favorite is his jersey devil that's absolutely covered in piercings he did himself. He hands it to nervous clients lol)

Jack's clients always end up being regulars cause he makes the space so comfortable and he really does try to get to know everyone he comes across. Small talk the entire appointment. It's partially to ease your nerves about the procedure but he really does have intentions to get to know you too, everyone who comes to see him means something to him. Jack's insta for his work is really popular cause he always posts piercings he's proud of with a little blurb about the client and how he appreciates them, it's sweet.

Suprisingly Jack doesn't have a lot of piercings himself, he's taken most of his out cause he was a little overstimulated with too many in. He does however still have his tongue, nostril, and a few on his ears done but he's been thinking about getting some new pieces recently if he has time. (frenum piercing Jack save me)

Luke just finished up his apprenticeship recently and he acts as the main front of house guy typically. He's not forced to, but he wants to take some of the weight off Quinn's shoulders and he likes doing it anyway.

Luke would definitely be lying if he said he wasn't nervous to start taking clients but he's trying his best to up his confidence. He takes most of the shop's walk ins since he's trying to build up his clientele and honestly he's a really diverse artist. He's good at a bit of everything, but he does get extra excited when someone comes in asking for American traditional or some fun little filler pieces. He's still trying to figure out exactly what style he enjoys the most but Traditional gives a bit of confidence because he practiced it day in, day out during his apprenticeship. He could probably tattoo a pinup girl with his eyes closed at this point and it'd be flawless.

Luke's always bringing snacks in for everyone at the shop and if you happen to be waiting on one of the other artists when he comes in he'd definitely share with you. He's a bit quieter than everyone else but similarly to Jack he builds relationships with clients very easily and they truly mean the absolute world to him. If you ask for him specifically when you come in he's getting this wave of warmth in his chest cause you'd really do that? You like him and his work enough to see him again even though he's only just started? Yeah he's whipped for you. His focus while he's working is so endearing and you can't help but admire how seriously he takes his work, he really does get lost in it.

Luke's got patchwork sleeves and some random other tattoos scattered over his body by various artists. During his apprenticeship he also practiced on himself a lot so most of his leg tattoos are his own work, you can really see the progression of his skill if you take the time to admire the images scattered over his body. Its a little sporadic at the moment but he's planning on more work and some filler when he's not too busy.

Most of the flash decorating the walls up front are Luke's artwork honestly. Whenever he has free time he's doodling and it makes for easy flash spreads to tack to the wall.

[catcze]

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

[ ###… ] modern AU, rockstar Wriothesley, gn reader, est. relationship, a lil bit of hurt/comfort, fluff, long-distance pining, lovesick & homesick wrio, kinda cheesy which is kind of on brand for me lol

By the time Wriothesley manages to get back to his hotel room and check his phone, he's pretty sure you're asleep. He hopes you are, knowing how late it must be on your end.

It's no surprise that there are several messages waiting for him— each day you've been apart, you give him something sweet to read in the evenings after a busy day of promos or after a hectic show. Something to make the distance between you seem a little less vast, to let him know that you're still thinking about him.

Even on days where he's dead tired, he'll always read them. Always let you know that he thinks of you, too.

What does surprise him is the newest text, sent at just over twenty minutes ago. Wriothesley frowns as he wonders why you're still up, and his heart only drops more when he scrolls through the messages and reads the latest thing you sent.

I miss you. I really, really miss you.

Before he can even hope that he's not bothering you, his finger near slams on the call button. You answer on the second ring, voice lacking the raspiness of a roused sleep. It makes him sigh with relief.

"Wrio?" you ask, surprised. "Are you okay? What's up?"

"I should be asking you that." Wriothesley sits heavily on the plush bed, flopping back against the pillows with all the grace of a man who just gave a two-hour performance.

As luxurious as the king-sized bed is, with its soft sheets and myriad of immaculately fluffed pillows, he can't help but yearn for the warm familiarity of your own bed and your well-loved blankets.

"Why're you still up, honey? Don't you have breakfast with your friends tomorrow?"

"...can't sleep," you murmur after a beat, voice so quiet. He hears sheets rustling, then silence again. You hesitate. "I... it might sound selfish but I miss you being here with me. It sucks that the bed feels so empty without you."

And oh, if he could, Wriothesley would crawl through the phone right this very second and wrap you in his arms— would crush you to his chest and hold you tight as he listens to your breath taper off into sleep. Would keep you against him, wrapped up in his love and adoration, until you practically have to beat him off of you with a stick.

But he can't and it's killing him.

"It's not selfish. I miss you too," he says, voice longing. "I want to go home to you so bad, sweetheart, you have no idea. Wish I could've packed you up in my bag and smuggled you here with me." He has to fight sleepy giggles at the thought.

"Speaking of— you better be prepared for a crapload of gifts when I get back. I've got a whole suitcase of stuff I thought you'd like."

You gasp, and even sounding a little crackly from the speakers, his heart does a flip. "A whole suitcase?! I wouldn't even know where to put all that!"

"We'll find space. 'm pretty sure there's some stuff we can jigsaw around." Wriothesley tries to keep the tiredness from his voice, tries to fight back the yawn. It's been so long since you've called, what with timezones and schedules getting in the way, and he wants to talk to you longer— ask how your day's been, what your plans are for the rest of the week, if there were any places you want to visit when he gets home. This call is much too short for all the things he wants to say, for all the hours he wants to spend listening to you talk.

But try as he might, you can tell he's close to knocking out without even having to lay an eye on him.

"You should sleep," you tell him, voice soothing him like a balm. "You're probably tired after your show. I saw a few videos, you know— you were so cool. I'm proud of you, Wrio."

He hums, basking in your praise. His eyelids are already growing heavy, the soft siren's song of sleep growing harder to resist. If he closes his eyes, maybe he can imagine that you're just down the hall, busy with something. You'll come in any second now, crawl into bed and slip into his arms, and everything would be right with the world.

"Thank you for... for calling. For checking up on me just because of a text." You giggle at that last bit, and (as it always seems to do) his heart flips. "I love you lots."

"Mm, no need to thank me. Just gimme lots of kisses when I get home." His tongue is growing heavier, sleep more inviting. But he manages to get one last thing out— "I love you lots, too."

Right before Wriothesley lets himself drop, you press a loud, exaggerated kiss to the receiver of your phone. He smiles.

That's how you both fall asleep: with both phones still on the line, even breaths and quiet snores comforting the other into a restful slumber.

[sleepymccoy]

I have some general anxiety about going to supermarkets aimed at specific cultures because the intended clientele is not lil white me and the staff often don't speak english and I feel inappropriate. But not once has this been true, and I've always enjoyed my visit. Anyway, that's a preface so you can appreciate how brave I am

My colleague recently made me lahpet which is a Burmese salad including pickled tea leaves, dried beans mix, and tomatoes. I loved it and wanted more. I live in a densely Chinese area and thought one of the many supermarkets might have something Burmese, so I brought the empty jar to every store.

Many don't speak english, but that's fine. I had a jar! All interactions basically went like this;

None of them knew Burmese so couldn't even tell me if they had something similar

I gave up and bought it online. Also had a hard time with that cos they don't deliver to apartments (got the vibe that it's just the shop owners son doing deliveries and he couldn't be fucked going upstairs. Valid). But I persevered and got three jars! And the dried beans mix I needed. Way too many dried beans, I totally misjudged the size of the bag being sold

I used one to show my friends this salad. They didn't go as insane over it as I did. I gave another jar to my dad who did go appropriately insane. He said he liked it, then five min later interrupted to say he really liked it, then after dinner spent time with me going through the ingredients and trying to figure out if he can pickle tea leaves himself. Booyah.

Regardless, this left me with one jar which I swiftly finished. So I'm on the hunt again and the online store stresses me out now cos they don't like apartments

I found a Burmese supermarket a few suburbs away and a twenty min walk from the station. Fucking worth it, it's added two hours to my commute home but I want these jars so much. I enjoyed the stroll. It rained a bit, so I saw a couple rainbows

In the store I was, again, immediately stressed. I went down an aisle and back again and found nothing. I found other pickled things! But not my tea leaves! I did not want this trip to be in vain, it was long and I had a shit day at work. I was really only doing it today cos the days a write off as a bad day so I may as well run an annoying errand

Anyway I pulled up the website and showed the lady at the counter a photo of the jar and she pointed me to them immediately. I returned like fifteen seconds later with four jars and she was already on a phone call with someone. I love workers rights. You're awesome, lady.

So I say four and hold four fingers up and pass her one jar. She scans and sets the price right. She then interrupts whoever's talking on the phone to ask me, "How you know this?"

So I quickly explained that my colleague made me the salad and I loved it. She pointed back at the aisle and said, "the beans, you need beans." So I was like "I have so many beans, I bought too many, I just need the pickled leaves." And she was already waving her hand at me in disinterest so I stopped talking and paid lol.

It was a long haul home. I passed and remember to take a photo of my favourite art installation, the tower of coffee cups in a pole.

There's no starbucks in my suburb so one of these at least has taken a long trip to get here. So did I today, my feet are sore

Anyway, I have four jars of miraculous pickled tea leaves. If you can figure out how to buy these ingredients I recommend it to serve alongside very fatty meals like lasagne or sausage cos it cuts through nicely. I also take a serving to work every day because the tea leaves are caffeinated so I'm skipping the second coffee

I love lahpet