#seriously though i cannot thank you guys enough for stopping by and asking about this silly little fic i appreciate it so so much :') | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delugyu · 3 months ago

Text

by a string

summary: Yeonjun’s got a lot on his plate. Not only does he have to worry about being a star student, but he also has to be the city’s web-slinging hero. And a lab intern. And a semi-decent roommate. And a little bit in love with you.

pairings: yeonjun x fem!reader

word count: 18.9k

tags: fluff, smut (mdni), some angst, spiderman!yeonjun, his webs shoot from his actual wrists like tobey maguire’s spiderman, college au, yeonjun is a cute awkward charming nerd, inaccurate science stuff sorry, blood, physical violence, lots of spidey shenanigans, campy weird action scene teehee, small arguments

smut tags: making out, heavy petting, webs as cuffs LOLLL, thigh riding, edging, fingering, praise, unprotected sex, cum eating, oral (f rec.), yeonjun is so playful and such a tease

notes: omg she’s finally here!!! i am so excited to get this out to u guys hehe<3 tysm for all the love on the teaser, i hope spideyjjun steals ur heart. enjoy the fic !!!

Saving the city can suck sometimes. Homework sucks significantly more. If Yeonjun had the option to zip through the city chasing some bad guys instead of sitting here trying to finish his calculus assignment, he’d be flying out his window in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, responsibility is a virtue, and Yeonjun cannot swing through the city for no good reason.

The one good thing about this tedious, awful calculus homework is that if it’s hard enough, he always gets a text from you. His body springs to life when he hears his phone buzz, rushing to pick it up and check the notification.

[you] have u done the calc homework

[you] how do you solve #4 :(

Do most of your conversations revolve around your shared class? Yes. Does Yeonjun ever get tired of teaching you the concepts? No, never. In fact, he stretches out his explanations as long as possible to keep you talking to him longer. Yeonjun never knew before that math talk could make his heart flutter.

“So, does that make sense?” he asks after a long-winded explanation. He’s almost out of breath after spewing out so much math jargon, but being on a call with you for ten minutes has similarly breathtaking effects.

“Yeah. Thanks, Yeonjun.” He bites back a giggle upon hearing your words. “You should seriously be teaching this class,” you say with a laugh.

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t—I mean, I’m—I’m more of a science guy,” he stammers out, lips tightening into a thin line at the embarrassment of stumbling over his own sentence. “Our professor’s pretty cool, too,” he adds as if that saves him at all.

“Is he? Maybe I should start going to his office hours,” you muse.

Oh. Well in that case, your professor sucks. Yeonjun can’t have you stop coming to him for math help; you’d never talk to him at all if it came to that!

“He’s not that cool,” Yeonjun says. You laugh, and he huffs out a short chuckle too.

“Noted. I’m gonna go now, but thanks for helping me. You’re the best.” Your praise goes straight to Yeonjun’s head, making him feel like the greatest man to ever live. He doesn’t even feel this accomplished after going out on his little spidey-missions.

He’s a beat too late to say goodbye or good night to you, the call already hanging up as he opens his mouth to speak. He melts into a puddle over his desk, sighing out as he plays back his conversation with you in his head. He thinks you have the prettiest voice he’s ever heard. You’re so smart, too. He never has to over exert himself to get you to understand, though he would happily do that for you.

He jolts up as his roommate walks into his dorm. Yeonjun glances at him quickly as he straightens out his posture, picking his pencil back up and returning to his homework.

“Hey,” his roommate, Soobin, greets quietly. Yeonjun didn’t know Soobin prior to this semester, but he’s been pretty nice. He’s very quiet, but very respectful of Yeonjun’s space. It’s much appreciated, considering Yeonjun’s hiding a few of his red and blue spandex suits in his closet.

“Hey. How was your day?” Yeonjun asks, only half-interested in the conversation.

He watches Soobin shrug from his peripheral as he slides off his shoes. “Normal,” he answers.

Yeonjun nods. “Cool.” The conversation kind of dies after that, which is fine. Soobin isn’t the most extroverted person, and Yeonjun doesn’t push him to talk more than he’s willing to. He sometimes forgets he even has a roommate with how quiet it gets in the room.

Yeonjun regains his focus a minute into the silence. His eyes widen when he realizes that there’s now a doodle of your face on his calculus homework—when did that get there..? His face heats up as he grabs an eraser from his desk’s drawer. Thank god he didn’t do this assignment in pen.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Yeonjun’s not really paying attention to the professor, finding more interest in taking quick glances at you. You’re wearing a different bracelet today. It’s really pretty—maybe he should compliment you on it. Is it weird to lean in and tell you that? Are you close enough where he can compliment you without looking weird and creepy?

He rests his head in his hand and starts doodling in his notebook, mindlessly scribbling on the page while he waits for the lecture to end. He thinks of quick conversational things to say, something to discuss in a few minutes when it’s time to pack your bags and leave. Interesting class, right? Who would’ve thought—Yeonjun looks up at the projector to see the professor’s notes—the shell method… would be so cool… Maybe he shouldn’t say that, actually.

He’s honestly better off not trying to strike up a conversation with you at all; the chances of it leading to total and utter embarrassment lean greatly towards one hundred percent. He just wishes he had a little more spine, or that he was naturally a little cooler. The only interesting thing about him is something he can’t even talk to you about, or with anyone at all.

Yeonjun barely registers it when the professor dismisses class. He steals one last glance toward you, lips parting like he finally built up the courage to speak, but the words build up in his throat and die on his tongue. He seals his lips and focuses his gaze back on his own things, closing his notebook and shoving it in his bag. It’s not worth it. He decides he’ll just keep his mouth shut.

“Hey Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun almost jumps out of his seat, and he has to fight away his nerves as he turns to you. You’re packing your things back into your bag, not even looking at him. A part of him thinks he might be hearing things until your eyes meet his, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah?” he responds, voice coming out strained. He clears his throat.

“We’re friends, right?” you ask. He blinks, feeling like this is some kind of trick. He analyzes your face, making sure there’s nothing snide or teasing hidden in your question. You look honest enough, which puts him at ease.

“Yeah, for sure.”

“I hope that’s not sarcasm,” you say, getting up from your seat and adjusting your bag over your shoulders.

“It’s not! Really, we’re friends,” he reassures. You walk past him and he follows, leaving the classroom and entering the busy hallway.

“Well, good. I wanted you to go with me somewhere.” Your statement is wildly cryptic, and it leaves Yeonjun’s mind whirling with the possibilities of what you might offer.

“Right now?” he asks. “I-I have class…” As much as he likes you, he really can’t risk dropping his grade due to missed attendance.

You laugh, “No, tonight. There’s this party, and I”—you keep talking, but Yeonjun barely registers it. He’s never partied in college before. What would he even do at a party? He can’t handle his drinks well, and he’s not sure how well he’d blend into that kind of environment. He’s scared he’d make a fool of himself.

As you leave the academic building, you turn to Yeonjun, raising a brow in question. You must have asked him for his confirmation. Yeonjun forces his brain to rack up a response.

“Could you text me the details..?” Yeonjun asks. You relax a little at his words, nodding happily. You pull out your phone, ready to text him now. Yeonjun feels his heart pounding. He catches sight of the time on your phone, noticing he’s only got five minutes until his next class. The hall he’s supposed to be in is at least a three minute walk from here.

“There,” you say, awarding Yeonjun with a grin so bright that being late to class might just be worth it. “I really hope to see you there.” You tilt your head a little, and Yeonjun feels starstruck.

“You will,” he promises mindlessly.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Yeonjun feared he might’ve been in trouble when his professor asked him to stay after class. Turns out, it’s something much worse.

“Yeonjun, do you think you could help in the lab later today?”

Yeonjun doesn’t think much before he nods. “Yeah, of course, how much later?”

“Around 6 this evening,” his professor answers. Yeonjun’s heart drops. That would be perfectly fine any other day, but he promised to go out with you today. Of course the party would start at the same time Yeonjun’s professor wants him to stop by the lab.

“I’m not sure I have the time,” Yeonjun says quickly, suddenly fidgety and feeling antsy to leave the room. “I’ve got this… thing to do.” His professor doesn’t look too convinced. Yeonjun wants to facepalm himself. Yeah, great excuse.

The professor sighs, but Yeonjun starts up again before his professor can say anything. “I can come in earlier! I’m free right now, so I could just go over after this.”

“The cells we’re working with need a full 24 hours in culture for the sake of our research. Are you sure you can’t push your plans forward? Or back?” he asks.

Yeonjun’s stomach twists with guilt. He knows he shouldn’t let his professor down. Yeonjun’s kind of counting on him to write his recommendation letter for a graduate program, too.

“I’ll push the plans back,” Yeonjun says, giving in. He hopes the dejection isn’t too evident in his voice. His professor smiles and pats Yeonjun’s shoulder in thanks. He half-listens as his professor gives him the usual rundown of what to do during and after the process, nodding along and holding back the frown that tries to tug at his lips.

When Yeonjun finally leaves the building, he lets out the heaviest sigh of his life. His shoulders sag, and he feels like he might be the unluckiest person in the world. You finally give him attention outside of just asking for homework help, and the universe just had to intervene. This is laughable. It’s also stupid. Annoying. Frustrating.

There’s a pout etched onto Yeonjun’s face as he walks back to his dorm. He’s got a couple hours until he needs to go to the lab, so maybe he can take a nap or tidy up his room a little. His head hangs low, gaze transfixed on the sidewalk, kicking along a small pebble that keeps him company on the way.

He only picks his head back up as he walks past a certain field of grass, one he often finds you sitting in. Sometimes you’re on your laptop, sometimes you’re taking notes in a textbook, but most of the time you’re just lounging and doing nothing. It’s almost inspiring. Yeonjun would probably benefit from relaxing and decompressing more.

You’re there, sitting cross-legged on the grass, peaceful and silent. You look up suddenly, making eye contact with Yeonjun. His face flushes, but before he can turn his head in embarrassment, you raise your hand and wave. Yeonjun almost stops in his tracks. You’re waving at him, acknowledging his existence yet again.

He smiles and waves back, failing to tame his heartbeat as he takes the sight of you in. He’s forced to look away when he nearly stumbles over the pebble he’s been kicking around—“Oh, shit!” he utters, quietly enough to not draw attention to himself.

He glances back at you casually, making sure you didn’t witness him tripping. Fortunately, you’re on your phone, no longer paying him any mind.

Back at his dorm, Yeonjun stands by his closet, contemplating what exactly to wear tonight. He also has to make sure his outfit is lab-friendly, so the loose sweater he’d been eyeing is a no-go. He sighs, looking at himself in the mirror. Maybe the t-shirt and jeans he’s wearing now will suffice.

Time passes slowly, slow enough for Yeonjun to clean his half of the room, make himself a small meal in the communal kitchen, and even read a chapter ahead in his calculus textbook. He almost feels relieved when his alarm sets off to go to the lab, eager to get his work over with.

He’s determined to get this done quickly enough to still see you tonight. The thought of letting you down the one time you ask him to hang out is almost painful. He imagines the frown you’d wear next time he sits next to you in class. He can’t let that happen; he has to make sure he gets to you.

He throws on his lab coat and adjusts the goggles to fit onto his face. He sighs as he grabs containers of various chemical compounds from the cabinet, leaving them on the counter as he fetches the other materials he needs. With everything set out in front of him, he grabs the petri dish of cells and glances at the procedural note his professor left.

Yeonjun’s done this enough times to get into the swing of things, so he’s not too concerned with double checking his every move. His bigger priority is getting this done as fast as possible so that he can get to you. Lab work is never particularly fun or interesting, so he passes the time thinking about you.

The smell of the chemicals burns Yeonjun’s nose a little, and he wonders for a second if he’d been zoning out too much. He picks up the procedural note and glances over the measurements again, making sure he’s been adding the right amounts of everything. If he does something wrong and messes with the cell culture, he risks not being allowed back in the lab. He should probably slow down a bit, even if it means making you wait longer.

He’s more careful throughout the rest of the process, pushing back the worries that he might’ve messed something up. He continues to reassure himself that everything’s okay as he finishes up his work, placing the lid back on the petri dish and storing it away. He writes the date and time on a piece of tape that he sticks onto the lid, then finally lets his body relax as he steps back.

He cracks his knuckles to alleviate the stiffness that had been building there and rolls his shoulders back, groaning at the soreness of his muscles. All the fine motor movements from working in a lab does a number on his arms and fingers.

He hears a rattle, and he turns quickly to make sure he didn’t knock anything over in his haste. His eyes scan the room, but nothing looks amiss. He shakes the feeling and sheds himself of his lab gear, eager to head to you at the party already.

It’s been over an hour, and the thought of you waiting so long for Yeonjun’s arrival strikes guilt inside his chest. He opens his phone to find the path he needs to walk to get to the house the party’s being held in, eyes bugging out when he sees that it’s a twenty minute walk from the lab. Shit, by then you’ll have been waiting an hour and a half for him to show up!

He groans, trying to think if there’s a better way to get to you. The buses around campus don’t stop at the street he needs to get to, and it’s not like he has one of those electric bicycles or scooters that everyone seems to love. He wonders now if it might be a worthy investment. He pouts and throws his head back, totally drained from everything happening today. His eyes land on the tops of the academic buildings and the tall trees overhead. Maybe there is another way to get there after all.

No, he shouldn’t. That would be way too reckless. He’s already gone through the whole power and responsibility spiel, and he’s not in the mood to get himself in trouble for acting rashly. But if no one sees…

He turns his head and scans for people in each direction. No one’s around. No one would know, and he really needs to get to the party before he makes himself look like an asshole. He checks for anyone one last time, then aims his wrist towards the sky.

“Yeonjun! What’s up!”

Yeonjun startles and brings his arm back to his side hastily. He whips around to see who’s talking to him and lets out a breath when he sees his friend who had just exited the lab building. “Taehyun, hey man,” he says, ignoring the anxious pounding of his heart. That was way too close. Lesson learned.

“Didn’t catch you at the physics meet last week. Everything alright?” Taehyun asks. Yeonjun really hopes this conversation doesn’t take too long. The last thing he needs is another ten minutes piled on top of how late he already is.

“I’m good, I was just”—controlling a fire set by some idiot arsonist, then trapping said arsonist with his webs until the cops arrived—“uh, kind of sick.”

Taehyun hums and nods. “Well, we missed you bro, hope you’re feeling better. I’ll see you around!” Yeonjun waves and returns the smile his friend gives him, then walks as fast as he can to the location you sent him. He manages to get there in fifteen minutes instead of twenty, only at the expense of heavy breathing like he just finished a marathon.

When he gets to the entrance, there’s two men Yeonjun has never seen in his life guarding the door. He almost scoffs. What is this, some kind of nightclub?

“You got the money?” one of the guys ask.

“What?” Yeonjun scrunches his brows and leans his head forward a little, thinking he might have misheard him.

“No money, no entrance,” the other man says.

“Dude, come on!” Yeonjun whines.

“House rules. Stop wasting our time and get out of line.”

“No, no, I’ll”—Yeonjun sighs, reaching into the back pocket of his pants to fetch out his wallet. “How much?” he asks. The men tell him, and he bites back the complaints that almost push past his lips. Yeonjun slaps the bills into the guy’s open palm. They finally open the door for him, and Yeonjun steps inside.

He’s taken aback by how many people are cramped into this place. The house is pretty big, but there’s at least a hundred people mingling around, which makes space tight. He squeezes past the crowd with muttered apologies, but no one seems to pay him any mind. He scans every room for you, but it’s a little hard to do it efficiently when there’s so many faces to check. A part of him fears you might’ve left already.

He pulls out his phone, ready to text you and ask, before he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns at the action and smiles when he’s met with your pretty face. “Hey, you!” you exclaim. “I thought you bailed on me.” There’s no real bite to your words, but it still makes Yeonjun frown.

“I’m sorry. I had to do this lab thing, and”—

“It’s alright, don’t explain. You’re here now!” you say. “Did you have anything to drink?”

Yeonjun shakes his head. “I don’t drink much.”

“Me either,” you say. You look out the window, then grab onto Yeonjun’s hand. His brain short-circuits, and he has to stop his eyes from going all dumb and wide. “It’s kinda stuffy in here. Let’s go outside.”

Yeonjun puts up no fight as you lead him out the back door, walking out into the yard. There’s almost as many people out here as there are inside, but the lack of walls means there’s more space to move. It’s much more breathable.

He takes quick glances at your face, trying to decipher what you’re staring so hard at. Your gaze is fixed on a small group of people just sitting and laughing. All the guys have girls in their laps, and a few girls stand around them, sipping their drinks. They all look happy. And drunk.

“Did you want to join them?” Yeonjun asks. He doesn’t know any of those people, but he’ll go if that’s what you’d like. It’s not like there’s much else to do when you’re not drinking or dancing.

The LED lights that line the house reflect in your eyes, making them dazzle extra bright. Your eyes dart to the group one last time before you shake your head. “Nah. Let’s just sit down and talk.” Yeonjun gladly obliges.

You find an empty spot to sit at, looking up at Yeonjun after you situate yourself. He laughs a little, “You really like sitting on the grass, huh?”

You smile at him and pat the ground next to you. “Don’t act like you’re too good to connect with nature.”

“It’s more about getting grass stains on my pants,” Yeonjun says, but sits beside you anyways.

You turn your head to him, and something about seeing your face this close makes it hard for him to keep eye contact. It’s quiet for a few seconds before you speak up, “So how come you said yes to the party?”

Something about your question strikes fear inside Yeonjun. Did you find him out? Do you know he likes you? Maybe this is some kind of humiliation ritual you’ve set him up for.

“Cause you asked,” he answers, voice a little meek as he fidgets with his hands in his lap.

“And if it was someone else who asked?”

Yeonjun thinks for a second, but he can’t come to an answer. “I don’t know. Like who?”

You hum and look into the crowd of people. Your head turns back to him after a couple seconds. “Like Yerim,” you say.

Yeonjun laughs as if the scenario is ridiculous, mostly because it is. Yerim would never even give him the time of day. She’s notorious for being cold to anyone who she isn’t interested in. Somehow, that seems to attract a bunch of guys to her. Not Yeonjun, though.

“No chance I’d go,” he says.

“So what makes me different?” you ask.

A lot of things. You’re nice, and you’re smart, and you’re down to earth, and you’re a beacon of warmth. Everything makes you different.

“Cause we’re friends,” he says instead. He wants to punch himself after the words leave him. This was his chance to flirt with you, yet he couldn’t even muster up the courage to give you a single compliment.

You nod. “I’m just asking cause… well, I guess I’m just surprised you agreed to come.” Your eyes meet his, warm and kind. “Thank you for that, by the way.”

Yeonjun’s stomach does flips when you look at him like that. “You’re welcome.” It goes quiet for a moment, so he continues, “I think this was worth handing over the last of my cash for.”

You burst out laughing. “They made you pay?! Why didn’t you just say you’re here with me?”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” he says. He bites his tongue after the words leave him. Who is he to assume there will be a next time? He hopes you don’t call him out on it.

“We should just go somewhere else next time. There’s a lot of places downtown that I want to visit,” you suggest, bumping his shoulder with yours. Yeonjun almost explodes.

“We should do that then,” he agrees. He’s not sure what suddenly drew you to him as more than some kind of tutor, but he thanks the universe for bestowing him with all this luck.

“There’s that bakery that opened a couple months ago,” you mention.

Yeonjun lights up. “Oh my god, I’ve been wanting to go there too!”

You squeal in excitement and clasp your hands together. “Let’s do that next. Tell me you’re free on Sunday,” you say.

“I don’t know, things come up last-minute sometimes. I’ll let you know.” It’s hard to make plans when he’s basically living a double life. Then again, he did agree to going out with you tonight on a whim. He’s not very consistent with his rules. He pushes the thought back.

Your eyes land back on the group of people hanging out and laughing. Yeonjun frowns, and he wonders if he’s not entertaining you enough. He doesn’t want to keep you from having fun.

“Why do you keep looking at them?” he asks, curious and soft. He hopes he’s not prying.

“They’re just some friends,” you answer.

“Oh. Why don’t we go say hi, then?” he offers.

You pull your lips into a tight line. “I’d rather not.”

“That’s alright,” Yeonjun says. You give a small smile in appreciation.

“What about you?” you ask. He tilts his head, not knowing what you mean. You continue, “Who’s in your friend group?”

Yeonjun laughs awkwardly and shrugs. “I mostly hang out with the physics honor society,” he admits.

“That’s cool. You must have a good bond.”

“We do,” he says. “How’d you meet your friends?”

You smile at him, and something in your face tells Yeonjun that it’s a complicated story. You sigh dramatically and lean back a little, “I met them at parties. Does that surprise you?”

Yeonjun’s not sure if that’s a rhetorical question. “No. You’re friendly. I can see why people come to you,” he answers.

“Thanks,” you say, voice a little quieter.

“Are you friends with your roommate?” he asks.

“I don’t have one. I live in a single dorm.”

Lucky. If Yeonjun had the extra money to spare, he’d be dorming alone too. It would definitely make heading out as Spider-man easier; he’d just be able to change in his room and jump out his window. Assuming no one is around to see, that is.

“That must be nice,” he says.

You shrug. “It’s alright. What about you? You got a roommate?”

“Yeah. We’re…” Yeonjun struggles to find a word to describe his relationship with Soobin. They’re not exactly friends, but they’re peaceful with each other.

You laugh and finish the sentence for him, “Roommates and nothing more.” There’s a lilt to your voice when you say that, and you wiggle your eyebrows like that’s supposed to suggest something.

“Ignoring your insinuations, yeah, pretty much.”

“I’m just kidding,” you say. He’ll let you make jokes at his expense all you want, it doesn’t bother him. Especially not when it means he gets to see you all giggly and happy. He thinks that you look the prettiest like this. Yeonjun would stare at you smiling up at him forever if he could.

The sound of a guy calling your name pulls Yeonjun from his stupor. He blinks at the man standing before the two of you, then looks at you with scrunched brows as if to ask who is that?

His unspoken question is answered the next second. “Hey, Kai,” you say. When Yeonjun gets a better look, he realizes that this is one of the dudes in the group you kept looking over at.

“Who’s this guy?” Kai asks, jutting his chin toward him.

“I’m Yeonjun.” He goes to hold out his hand for Kai to shake, but quickly puts it back down upon realizing that might be weird.

“Oh, Yeonjun from calculus. I know you,” he says.

“I didn’t know you’re in that class too,” Yeonjun muses.

Kai laughs, “I’m not. Y/n just talks about you.”

Yeonjun nearly melts. You talk about him. This is the best day of his life.

“Anyway,” Kai continues, looking at you again. “I need a couple more people on my beer pong team. You guys down?”

Yeonjun turns to you to gauge your reaction. He can’t really tell what you're feeling, not even when you face him as you contemplate your answer. Yeonjun shrugs, as if to tell you that he’s down for whatever you want to do.

“I think I’m good,” you say.

“Ah, alright, you bummer,” Kai jokes, stepping back and sending you a bright smile. “Continue your convo with the calc lord, I insist.” He’s gone after that, jogging off to the rest of his friends, setting up the game.

“Calc lord?” Yeonjun repeats, amused.

Your laugh is accompanied by a roll of your eyes. “He means it nicely, I swear.”

“Well, depending on how well he does in this game, I might start calling him beer pong lord,” Yeonjun says. You push at his shoulder as your laughter continues.

Yeonjun already knew he likes you a lot, but as the night goes on, he finds out that you’re even better than he thought. Conversation unfolds easily with you, even if Yeonjun’s answers are dorky and awkward at times. He feels exactly how he thinks you look when you sit in the grass alone: content and peaceful.

He’s not sure how many minutes or hours have passed when you ask him to walk you back to your dorm. All he knows is that tonight could have stretched into infinity, and that would’ve been fine. He follows you into the building, then into your room. He’s not sure why. It just feels right.

“Thanks for bringing me back,” you say. Yeonjun smiles and nods. He leans against the wall and stares out the window. You live on the top floor of your building, so the view’s pretty different from Yeonjun’s second story view. This would be a fun room to swing out of.

“Do you need anything else?” Yeonjun asks. A smile slowly takes over your face, and you cross the room to stand in front of him. You blink up at him, and something about it feels flirty. If he wasn’t biting his tongue so hard, his thoughts would have slipped right past his lips: you look cute.

You break the short moment of silence with a giggle. “Just for you to promise me we’ll hang out again,” you say, voice barely over a whisper.

Yeonjun has to remind himself to breathe and be normal. “I promise,” he says. He even holds out his pinky to seal the deal. You curl your pinky around his, accepting the playful gesture.

“Did you want to stay?” you ask. You look out the window, then back at him. “I’m okay with sharing my bed.”

That definitely flusters Yeonjun. “Oh, no, I’m—I was gonna just walk back to my dorm or something. Or take a bus. I don’t know. Thank you, though.”

You laugh. Hopefully not at his sputtering and rambling, but Yeonjun has a feeling that might be why. “Alright, then. Good night, Yeonjun.”

Your soft voice has Yeonjun wanting to backpedal and say he’ll stay the night, but he swallows down the words. He smiles at you as he backs away toward your door. “Good night,” he says, standing in your doorway.

“Yeonjun,” you call, stopping him before he could leave. He turns, waiting for your words. He’s surprised to see that you look a little shy. “I’m really happy I asked you to come with me. Tonight was fun.”

Butterflies erupt in Yeonjun’s stomach, and he feels like he could float from how giddy he is. “I’m happy too,” he says.

He steps out into the hall, thoughts lingering on how overwhelmingly good his time with you was. His mind is clouded with rosy memories of his night with you, and he finds himself repressing the urge to twirl around and jump for joy. He’ll probably be skipping all the way home, imagining all the possibilities of what could come next between you.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

It’s Sunday, and Yeonjun knows exactly why you’re calling. He stares at his phone, then back at the man in front of him tangled up in webs. Yeonjun shoots another web over the guy’s mouth.

“Sorry, gotta take this,” he says. “Stay right here.” He slings himself onto a branch of a tall tree nearby, just to make sure no one can listen in as he accepts your call.

“Hey Yeonjun!” Your voice is so cheerful that it makes Yeonjun giggle. He even swings his feet in the air as he sits on the branch.

“Hi Y/n,” he greets, hoping his voice isn’t too muffled through the mask of his suit.

“Did those last-minute plans end up showing, or are you down to try out that bakery?” you ask. Yeonjun frowns, hating to let you down when you sound so happy.

“I’m really busy today, I’m sorry,” he says, shoulders sagging from how awful he feels. He’s got a whole lab procedure to write once he’s done sorting out the crime scenes of today.

“No worries, maybe we can go after class sometime.”

He frowns. “I wish I could, but I got another class right after ours. Let me check my schedule, I might be able to”—

“Are those sirens?” you interrupt, and Yeonjun looks out to the street. He’s grown so accustomed to the sound of those things that it didn’t even register. “Where are you?” you ask.

“I’m… uh,” Yeonjun stammers, focusing on the cops getting out of the car and making their way towards the criminal.

He tunes into the cops’ conversation. “Looks like Spider-shit’s been here already,” one of them comments in a gruff voice.

The other cop huffs out a laugh. “He’s always meddling in with petty crimes. What do you think this guy did?”

“Jaywalking?” The cops chuckle.

“Not like he can explain with that over his mouth.” He points to the web Yeonjun placed on the man a minute ago.

Yeonjun scowls. He’s not sure why the cops hold so much scorn for him, but if they’d like to know, then the petty crime that Spider-shit helped stop was an armed robbery. If these guys were a little better at their jobs, he wouldn’t have to meddle in all the time.

“Hello?” you ask, and Yeonjun reels his attention back to his conversation with you.

“Sorry,” he says. “I’m just coming back from the store. Crazy stuff going on today.”

“Oh. Well, stay safe,” you say.

“Thanks, I will.” He sees the cops looking around, probably trying to spot him, so he flattens his back against the tree and tries to talk a little quieter. “I’ll see you in class, I gotta go.”

“See you!”

Yeonjun sighs once the call ends. His suit doesn’t even have pockets, he just carried his phone with him today in case you contacted him. Stupid? Mildly. Inconvenient? Very. He had one less hand to work with when dealing with today’s crime culprits. To hear your voice, though? Worth it. He smiles like an idiot as he swings over to the next nearest building, making his way back to his dorm.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Yeonjun’s professor accompanies him to the lab today, overseeing the procedures for the day. The feeling of his professor watching over his shoulder is more nerve-wracking than any day spent fighting crime on the streets. He’s usually careful with his work in the lab, but he’s extra, extra careful on these days.

He pauses when he retrieves the petri dish of cells. He briefly considers the possibility that he’s crazy and just seeing things, but Yeonjun’s pretty sure that the clump of cells just moved. Like, uncanny movement. He holds his breath.

He stares at the clump, trying to make sense of what he’s seeing. It doesn’t jerk around anymore, so maybe it was just his imagination. Fear still creeps up his neck at the idea of the research going wrong. He remembers feeling like he messed up at some point last time he was here, and the realization is making his skin grow clammy.

“What is it?” his professor asks, taking a step closer to Yeonjun.

“Nothing, I was just thinking,” he quickly responds, keeping his voice calm and steady. He brings the petri dish to the table and does his best to forget what he saw earlier. Yeonjun fears how his professor would react if he told him something unprecedented might be occurring. It happened so quickly that he can’t even tell if his mind was just playing tricks on him. Maybe he’s just extra nervous today.

He wipes the sweat off his palms onto his lab coat, bringing the necessary materials to the table to continue the research. His professor reads off the instructions slowly, and Yeonjun pretends he doesn’t feel his stomach twisting as he works with the cells.

He tries to calm down as he walks back to his dorm, but there’s a permanent chill shooting down his spine. There’s no way the clump should have moved like that—it shouldn’t show any observable motion at all, not without some kind of electrical stimulation.

Maybe he just jerked the dish too harshly. He was pretty nervous, so it would make sense. He must have been shaking and just didn’t realize. That would explain it. That would put Yeonjun at ease.

He can try to convince himself that everything’s fine, but he can’t stop the anxious thrum of his heart. Apparently the fear reads on his face, too, because Soobin’s quick to notice it when Yeonjun enters the dorm.

“Are you okay?” Soobin asks. Yeonjun’s not sure what must have given himself away. He pays more attention to breathing slowly and talking casually.

“I’m good,” he answers. He doesn’t expect Soobin to push the subject considering how quiet he always is, but Soobin’s gaze isn’t leaving Yeonjun. He must be really concerned.

“Did something happen?” Soobin asks. Yeonjun sinks into his desk chair, covering his face with his hands as he groans. “Sorry,” his roommate apologizes, turning away from Yeonjun to look at his laptop instead.

“No, you’re good, it’s just…” Yeonjun sighs. He might as well get this off his chest. “Some lab thing.”

Soobin nods, not asking any further. Now that Yeonjun’s started though, he doesn’t feel like stopping.

“I think I might’ve fucked up,” Yeonjun admits.

“How?” Soobin’s playing some video game on his laptop as he talks, which actually puts Yeonjun at ease. It feels less pressing, less like an interrogation or a confession and more like a normal conversation.

“The cells I’m working with are being weird. I don’t know. I don’t even know if I saw it right. I just feel crazy now.” Yeonjun rubs his palms against his eyes in frustration and exhaustion, soothing the headache he’s got building up.

Soobin hums. The little shooting sounds and animated voices coming from Soobin’s game fill the room until Soobin speaks again, “Did anyone else see?”

“No. My professor was there, but he didn’t notice.”

Soobin shrugs. “You’re probably fine then.”

Honestly, Soobin’s nonchalance to the situation eases Yeonjun’s worries a lot. He knows he can get in his head sometimes, especially when it comes to doing everything right, so to hear he’ll be fine lifts a weight from his shoulders.

“Yeah, probably,” he agrees. He basks in comfortable silence for a minute now that his heart isn’t beating so hard.

“By the way, have you bought more laundry detergent yet?” Soobin asks.

Ah, shit. “Tomorrow, I promise.”

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Being Spider-man is tasking, but it’s usually pretty cool. Not everyone gets to zip around the city and restore peace in people’s neighborhoods. Not everyone, however, has to worry about getting stabbed by a criminal in the middle of the night.

Yeonjun always stays until the cops arrive. It almost feels essential, just to make sure justice gets served. This time, he can’t.

He has to stop himself from groaning too loud when he feels the knife pull out from his side. The man in front of Yeonjun is already stuck to the side of a building, held there with a thick layer of web, so there has to be someone else. He turns around to look at the perpetrator, but the world moves a lot slower than normal.

Yeonjun blinks hard, focusing on breathing and staying conscious. The coward who stabbed him is wearing a ski mask, and he’s running away quickly. Yeonjun can’t let him leave. He moves forward and ignores the searing pain that sets his body alight. He straightens out his shaky arm and aims his wrist at the man, but the web that shoots out is just as weak as Yeonjun is.

Frustrated, Yeonjun growls and forces himself to move faster. It burns, he’s never felt any kind of pain like this, but he can’t let this man walk free. He can’t let this man stab another innocent person. Even with his staggered pace, limping as he tries his best to catch up to the man, he advances quickly.

He breathes hard and holds the air in his lungs as he aims again at the man, brows furrowed with angry determination beneath his mask. He lets out a loud grunt as he shoots his web out, and finally, it lands. The criminal falls as the web captures his ankle, keeping his leg stuck to the ground.

Yeonjun huffs as he traverses the rest of the way toward the man, nothing but fury in his veins as he shoots another web out. This one’s bigger, covering the man’s back and securing him to the pavement. He picks up his head and looks at Yeonjun with fear in his eyes, but he doesn’t care. He can’t. All he feels is pain and anger and pain and pain and so much fucking pain.

Yeonjun’s not the vengeful type, but getting stabbed really tests a person’s limits. He shoots more webs over the guy, making sure he won’t be able to move a muscle until the cops arrive.

Yeonjun doesn’t waste his breath making snide comments, though he does have a few choice words for him. He takes off the man’s ski mask and resists the urge to deck his face. He’s got fear etched into his expression, but Yeonjun finds it hard to feel sorry for him. The man starts begging for his life, and Yeonjun scoffs. Of course he’s not going to kill this man—no matter what, he doesn’t end people’s lives. A city’s hero shouldn’t get to decide who lives and dies.

Yeonjun stumbles away after finding a passerby to call the police. Now that the adrenaline’s gone, Yeonjun feels less mad and more scared. He’s really bleeding now; his hand comes up soaked when it presses against the wound. What the hell does he do? He can’t die like this.

He can’t go to the hospital with a stab wound. There’s no way for him to make up some alibi that wouldn’t just trace Spider-man’s identity back to him. He hisses through gritted teeth as he frantically scans his surroundings, looking for somewhere to go. The only thing that’s coming to mind is you, and it’s aggravating. He could be dying right now, and all his useless mind can do is think of you. Maybe it’s all the blood loss, and he’s just getting delirious, or maybe it’s a sign. It’s not like he has many good options right now.

There’s not enough time to think about it. He zips through the city and back onto campus as fast as he can, ignoring the splitting pain in his side that shoots up his body every time he moves. It’s getting harder to breathe, suddenly feeling suffocated by his mask, but he has to hold on. He’s not far away now.

He remembers the view from your window. He remembers exactly which room to shoot himself up to. He adheres himself to the wall outside your room and pulls his mask off, leaning his forehead onto the cold glass of your window with a sigh of relief. He catches his breath and knocks with a shaky fist. He’s really sorry for having to wake you up at this hour, but he has a feeling you’ll understand.

He doesn’t wait long. You're trudging out of bed and making your way toward the window, tired eyes blinking slowly. You look really cute. Everything is spinning around him, but he focuses on you. You’re still groggy and out of it until you meet Yeonjun’s eyes through the glass. As soon as you see him, it’s like you wake up immediately.

He watches your jaw drop, your frantic hands racing to open your window. His vision is nearly blacking out, and he tries to blink away the dizzy feeling in his head the best he can.

“Yeonjun?!” you squeak as he drags himself through your window and into your room. He can’t even hold himself up anymore, weak body collapsing to the floor. He groans and leans against the wall, clutching his side. He ignores the sickening feeling of blood dampening his hand, sticky and warm against his palm and between his digits.

You pick him up by the underarms, grunting as you heave him toward your bed. He notices how shaky your arms are, and he tries his best to pick up his own weight, even if it hurts like hell. He’s burdening you enough as is coming here so late.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to go to,” he says, catching his breath as you guide him to lay on your bed. He’s half-aware of how bloody and dirty he is, but you seem fully ready to let him stain your sheets. Concern and confusion fill your wide eyes, and Yeonjun can hear every word that you don’t say.

Luckily, you save the unnecessary questions for later. “What do I do?” you ask. Your hands tremble as they peel the shirt of his suit up, just enough to expose his midriff and the nasty damage to his side. You gasp upon seeing how bad it is, hardly able to stomach it, opting to look into his eyes instead.

He wants to respond to you, if not to answer your question then just to comfort you, but breathing is enough of a chore on its own right now; talking seems almost impossible. Watching you panic about this is shattering him. He makes an effort to move his arm out toward you, just to hold your hand and reassure you, but he doesn’t have enough strength.

You lift from the bed and open up a bottle of water, pouring some of the cool liquid over his head. It’s relieving against his burning skin and keeps him from losing consciousness. It also makes him realize how dehydrated he is.

“Please sit up,” you beg, placing a hand underneath his head to lift it a bit. He comes up just enough to drink some of the water you feed to him, swallowing down the rest of the bottle. He collapses back against your pillow once he’s finished, feeling much better just from that.

You come back with another bottle of water and pour small bits at a time over the gash in his side. He hisses and tenses up each time it hits his skin, but he knows you have to do this. He doesn’t want to make it harder by thrashing around and complaining, so he bites his tongue and keeps his body stiff.

The sheets soak beneath him as you continue emptying the water bottle over the wound. He should help you clean up after this; he doesn’t want you dealing with his mess all alone. A few minutes pass before you discard the plastic bottle and grab a t-shirt from your dresser.

You press the bunched up cloth against his injured skin gently, and he holds back any grunts that threaten to slip out. It’s like you can sense his pain despite his efforts to hide it, because you keep murmuring apologies to him.

“I’m okay, don’t be sorry,” he reassures. He doesn’t think you believe him, judging by the way lips stay tugged into a frown.

A quietness falls over the room. You pull your t-shirt away from his body and observe the wound, and your fingertips on his torso send electricity throughout his body. It doesn’t hurt so much now.

“You’re not bleeding anymore,” you point out.

He hums. “That’s good.” Your hand grazes the skin just outside the gash. There’s a soothing effect in the way your fingers glide against him, pressure so light that it’s barely there.

“You need stitches,” you say quietly, like you hate to break the news to him.

Yeonjun doesn’t mind. “You got a needle?” he asks. You fidget with the fabric of Yeonjun’s suit as you sigh and look away.

“I do,” you say. You don’t sound too confident, though. He doesn’t know what to do to make you feel better.

You grab his hand like it’s second nature to do so, and the action would be romantic if only you didn’t have that nervous look on your face. He can practically feel your heart pounding, and he’s dying to let you know that everything’s okay.

“I trust you,” he breathes out. He makes sure he’s looking you in the eye so you can see how much he means it. He’s risking everything by trusting you, but he’s not scared. He feels safe even with his life in your hands, his secret identity in your knowledge. If there was something more sacred and dangerous to give up than that, he’s sure he’d be okay lending that to you too.

It feels much more real when you have your needle and thread in hand. Yeonjun can’t contain his noises anymore, whimpering in pain when he feels the sharp tip pierce his skin.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say quickly and desperately. “I’ll do it fast.”

He hisses as he feels the thread start to tug his wound shut. He throws an arm over his eyes, as if not watching you treat him will stop the piercing feeling. All his muscles are tensed up no matter how much he tries to relax, but he keeps his breathing steady and lets you do your work.

It’s not too long before you’re tying off the final knot and discarding your needle onto your nightstand. You run your thumb over the stitch, gentle and slow. Yeonjun takes his arm off his face and fixes his gaze on you, watching you scrutinize your work with scrunched brows.

“It feels fine. You did perfect,” he says, wanting to keep you from judging yourself too harshly. He wants to thank you, but the words feel so awkward building up in his throat.

“I don’t have a big enough bandage to put over this,” you say, still fixated on his injury. Yeonjun tries to sit up, but your hand on his shoulder eases him back down. “Don’t move too much.”

“Y/n…” he starts, but you give him a pointed look, and he decides to shut up and listen. He relaxes against your mattress.

“I wish I had some clothes to change you into,” you mutter after he pulls the shirt of his suit back down. The spandex isn’t super comfortable against his fresh stitches, but it’s easy to ignore in comparison to the searing pain of the open wound. He’ll have to throw out this suit; it’s bloodied beyond repair, and he has plenty of back-ups anyway.

“It’s alright,” Yeonjun says. You shuffle on the mattress until you’re laying down beside him. “Aren’t the sheets wet?” he asks, surprised at how unfazed you seem.

You let out a small laugh, and that frown finally leaves your face. “I don’t mind. I wanted to lay down.”

“I’ll buy you new sheets,” Yeonjun promises. “And a new needle. And I’ll explain everything to you, I swear. Please don’t”—

“Yeonjun,” you cut off. He shuts his mouth. “That stuff doesn’t matter. Are you okay now?”

He nods. “I’m okay.”

“That’s all I care about.”

The room falls into a comfortable silence. Yeonjun stares at the ceiling and wonders how much this is going to change things between you. He has some hope that this will make you two even closer, but a small part of him fears that you won’t want to associate with him anymore. He wouldn’t blame you; it’s not like being close to Spider-man isn’t a riskless situation. He doesn’t regret coming to you tonight, though.

He feels your eyes on him a moment later, and he can only bring himself to look at you for a second before returning his gaze to your ceiling. You must find that funny, because he hears you chuckling beside him.

“You know, I wasn’t expecting this when you said you’d hang out with me again.” There’s a softness in your voice that makes Yeonjun feel lightheaded. Not the losing-too-much-blood kind of lightheaded, but the oh-god-I-really-like-her kind—this one’s much more preferable and much more welcome than the former.

“I’ll have to make it up to you,” he says.

“How do you plan on doing that?”

He turns his head to face you, and something feels awfully domestic about getting to lay this close to you in your bed. It’s hard to breathe when you’re smiling at him so eagerly, when there’s a glint in your eyes that tells Yeonjun you’re having fun. There’s an itch all the way down to his bones that begs him to push forward and kiss you already, but he resists.

“I’ll find a way,” he whispers.

The room gets quiet again, and Yeonjun supposes he should leave. It’s not like he can wait for the sun to rise and walk out of your room in his bloodied Spidey-suit glory. He’s not sure what time it is right now, but he knows that if he doesn’t leave soon and get some sleep, he’ll be passing out in his classes.

“Thanks for fixing me up,” he says, pushing himself off your bed and stretching his limbs. He feels beyond sore, wincing at the pain that shoots through his body. You sit up immediately, scrambling to stop him.

“You’re leaving? Are you crazy? Stay here!” you insist, trying to drag him back to the bed. He turns his head to you and smiles, and something about the silent plea in your eyes lights up his heart. He keeps his feet on the ground and resists your efforts, even though he wants nothing more than to spend the night with you. It’s just not smart and not worth the risk.

“I can’t,” he says. You pout and stand before him, blinking up at him so prettily that he almost changes his mind. “It’s dangerous.”

“I know. I just wanted to keep you.” That makes Yeonjun giggle.

“Sorry. Maybe next time.”

You swat his chest. “Don’t let there be a next time. You almost scared me to death.”

“I’ll make sure to tell the next knife-bearer you said that,” Yeonjun jokes. It gets the laugh that he was hoping for out of you.

“Well…” you start, eyes darting between his own. He barely has time to register it when you press a kiss against his lips, your movement so hesitant and shy. It’s soft. It’s sweet. It’s over before he knows it. He blinks at you dumbly—it’s all he can do to not pass out like a dork in front of you. Your smile is just as soft and sweet as your kiss was. “Just stay out of trouble,” you finish, patting his chest gently.

“I’ll try.”

“I guess I’ll see you in class, then,” you say.

“Yeah,” he agrees. He should go now. He should make use of his feet and back away, but he stays planted in his spot. You sway girlishly in front of him, hands clasped behind your back.

“Good night,” you whisper. Yeonjun can’t help it—he pulls your face in so he can feel your lips on his again, more properly this time. They’re pillowy and dreamy, and Yeonjun could just melt into you. He doesn’t linger longer than he has to, backing up just enough to see your face. You mirror the glee that he feels in his own expression.

“Good night,” he echoes. He backs away and grabs his mask, slipping it back on. He opens your window back up and slings himself to the nearest tree. Each time Yeonjun looks over his shoulder, he sees you leaning at your window smiling right back at him. His heart does a little flip. On second thought, maybe getting stabbed is kind of cool.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Despite how well last night went, Yeonjun wakes up with a heavy weight on his shoulders. Every ounce of confidence that his interaction with you last night might have given him is completely gone the moment he remembers it, and sheds away at itself further when he notices you skipped class. A dreadful thought creeps up his spine: are you avoiding him?

Maybe you woke up regretting it all. Maybe you realized how ridiculous and stupid getting involved with Spider-man is, and you’re just protecting yourself before you can be burdened further. The classroom feels hot and suffocating, and fresh air sounds really nice right now, but Yeonjun stays put in his seat. He doesn’t want to make a scene and start freaking everyone out. To the best of his ability, he pushes his fears down and saves his panic for later—preferably for after he talks to you and gets some answers.

He doesn’t even open his notebook in his last class of the day. He shows up just for attendance purposes, then zones out staring at his desk for the rest of the hour. Time passes far too slowly; Yeonjun’s itching for the lecture to end so he can talk to you already. He’s practically running out of class as soon as it’s dismissed, but finds himself slowing down the moment he’s outside the building.

He’s pretty sure he knows where to find you. The bigger issue is figuring out what the hell he’s going to say. Is there any way to start this conversation without being awkward? Hey, thanks for saving my life last night. Also I am indeed that hero or whatever taking care of criminals in the city, hope you don’t mind! He feels so lame.

It’s wishful thinking to hope that you won’t care about what happened last night—well, except for the kissing part, but that’s probably not as important right now. He’ll push aside that conversation until the more important one happens.

He wants to run away the moment he sees your figure in the distance, sitting exactly where he thought you’d be. His tongue suddenly feels like lead, too heavy and useless to try talking to you. He gathers his breath and walks across the field, not letting himself back out now. You deserve to be given a little peace of mind. He’s sure today must have been confusing for you, that clarity hit you like a train this morning the same way it did to him.

You look over your shoulder when he reaches you, staring up at him and squinting your eyes from the sun. “How’d I know you’d come find me?” you ask, half-amused.

Yeonjun gives you a short laugh, unsure of himself as he sits on the grass beside you. It feels a little like he’s invading your space. He’s seen you sitting alone on this field as if it was all yours so many times.

“I thought I should thank you again,” he says, a little shy. He feels like he owes you a lot for last night. The whole city probably owes you a lot for saving him, honestly.

You look at him with a small smile, leaning your head on your bent knees. “Mhm. Shouldn’t I be thanking you, Spider-man?” There’s a teasing quality to your voice, and it makes Yeonjun laugh nervously. He should probably address that.

“I really hope you won’t tell anybody.”

“I won’t. I’m still finding it hard to believe anyway,” you say. Your sentences are all laced with a tiredness and exhaustion that Yeonjun can’t help but to feel at fault for. “It’s just weird to know it now.”

Yeonjun hums. He can sympathize with you on that—it must be really bewildering to know your classmate is the one swinging around town shooting webs at criminals. He just hopes you can forgive him for dragging you into this.

“Spider-man’s a little less cool now, huh?” he jokes, keeping his voice quiet even though no one’s around.

Your smile is full and genuine, and Yeonjun’s heart skips a beat. “I always thought he was a little lame,” you answer. Yeonjun’s ego bruises at that. You continue, “But I think he’s kind of interesting now.”

He can only hope that you don’t see the blush that takes over his face. He looks away to hide it, but he feels your gaze on him. “I don’t know if I’m that interesting,” he says, acting all humble. It’s clearly bait, and he hopes you’ll catch it.

“I can be the judge of that. Let me get to know you more,” you offer. Yeonjun bites his cheek to stop himself from grinning at this massive win.

“Well, we still have that bakery to go to,” Yeonjun mentions, and judging by the way your eyes gain a new sparkle, you seem to like the idea.

“You don’t have any more classes today, do you?” You already look ready to go.

Yeonjun doesn’t bother hiding his excitement anymore, letting his smile take over his face. “I don’t.” You’re standing up the next second, and Yeonjun’s quick to follow.

The bakery is a cute, cozy little place near some other restaurants downtown. There’s no seating inside due to the lack of space, but that’s made up for by the giant row of sweet selections to choose from. Yeonjun’s stomach rumbles in anticipation as his eyes jump around to look at each confection.

After buying your treats, you lead Yeonjun to a nearby bench. You both open your pastry boxes and bite down on the baked goods eagerly. You hum in satisfaction, nodding at the taste. “Wow, we should go here again,” you say, going in for another bite.

Yeonjun chose a sweet cheese bread, which he completely devours within a couple minutes. You don’t eat as fast as him, but he doesn’t mind waiting for you. He makes conversation in the meantime: “How come you skipped class today?”

You laugh a little around your mouthful of food, swallowing before you answer, “I barely slept. There was no way I could’ve focused if I went.”

Yeonjun hums in understanding. “I barely slept too,” he says.

“But you still went,” you add. “I guess you’re better than me.”

Oh god, he hopes you didn’t take it that way. “Not at all!” he rushes to say.

You smile and pat his shoulder. “I know. You’re just a star student, that’s all.”

Is that a compliment? Yeonjun blushes anyway. “I like to do well,” he says.

“I mean, considering everything you’re balancing, yeah, you are doing pretty well.”

Yeonjun laughs awkwardly in response, barely able to take your praise. He’s pretty sure you’re alluding to what you found out about him yesterday. “Thanks,” he mutters, all humble.

“Do you wanna talk about last night?” you ask, finishing your last bite.

“Sure,” Yeonjun answers, feeling a smidge of nervousness returning to him. It’s quiet for a few seconds. “Did you have any questions?” he asks. He feels more bashful than anything else, but it’s better than coming off as braggadocious.

You hum in thought, pouting your lips while you conjure up some ideas. “Was that your first kiss?”

He’s completely taken aback by your question—and a little embarrassed, quite frankly—and he scrambles to spit out a response. You’re stifling your laughter before he can even get his defense out. “No! I had my first kiss in, like, high school!”

“I’m just teasing,” you admit. “You’re a good kisser.” The compliment goes to Yeonjun’s head, playing in a loop while he floats on cloud nine. You liked kissing him. He should do it again and again, just to keep you happy. And for more selfish reasons, too.

Your voice breaks through his thoughts when you speak again, “Do you feel better today? Are you healing alright?” The joking tone leaves your voice, replaced with genuinity and care.

“I feel fine,” he answers. He pulls up his shirt to show you the wound, all stitched up and starting to heal over.

You wince. “Good thing I finished my food already. That killed my appetite.” Yeonjun laughs at your grimace and releases his shirt, falling back into place. “You should really put a bandage over that,” you suggest.

“I don’t have any.”

You shake your head in disbelief, though your amusement reads on your face. “You should be more prepared.”

Your concern is cute to Yeonjun. “I know,” he says.

“So who stabbed you?” you ask.

He shrugs. “No clue. He’s probably in a cell now.”

“Did it hurt?” you ask, though the answer is obvious.

“Like hell,” he says.

“How’d it even happen?” Honestly, Yeonjun’s not too sure about that either. He can usually sense imminent danger before it comes, but maybe he was too focused on the crimes he’d already been dealing with.

“He came up behind me while I was handling another criminal,” he answers.

You hum, getting off the bench and tossing your trash in a bin nearby. You start walking off then, and Yeonjun follows mindlessly. “Must be tough being Spider-man,” you say.

“Careful how loud you say that.” Yeonjun tenses as someone walks past the two of you, praying they were out of earshot when you said that. He sighs in relief when he sees the person had headphones in.

“Right, sorry. There’s just so much I wanna know now.” You turn a corner, taking a path leading back to campus.

Your curiosity excites Yeonjun, and he’s ready to answer whatever question you come up with. Some of his stories have serious entertainment value to them.

“Ask me, then,” he invites. You twist your head to smile up at him for a second.

“How’d you get like this? Were you just born this way?”

Yeonjun laughs at the idea. He swings his head around to make sure no one’s around when he answers, “No, a radioactive spider bit me.”

“When did that happen?” you ask. Yeonjun reminisces the first few weeks after the bite, thinking back to those initial feelings of fear and dread when he realized something had happened to him.

“In high school,” he says. It was super bewildering back then to change so drastically, yet be forced to act so normal. It’s much easier now—he’s had years to adjust—but he was a teenager when it first happened. That’s a lot for a kid to take on. He had to act like he was the same Choi Yeonjun his classmates had grown up with, and not some mutated superhuman dealing with the stresses of his new identity. Of course, he did that whole Spider-man thing to himself, but it was the right thing to do. He doesn’t regret it.

“Does anyone else know?”

“My uncle did, but he’s gone, so now it’s just you.” He looks at you, lips twitching upward.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you apologize, voice growing soft. He realizes that you’re in front of your dorm building now, and he supposes this is where he should leave. His eyes dart between yours, like he’s waiting for you to tell him to go. To ask him to stay.

“Are you doing anything today?” he asks. Maybe he sounds desperate. He doesn’t really care.

“Catching up on some work,” you say.

“I’ll give you my calculus notes.”

You smile. “That would be nice.”

Yeonjun didn’t even take notes in calculus today. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.

“Can I stay?” He’s teeming with hope and bravery today. You open the door to your building and signal him inside, and he has to hold back the victorious giggle that almost escapes him as he trails behind you.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of questions and answers. Yeonjun’s never talked so openly about being Spider-man before, and a part of it feels healing. You study hard while he rambles about stories of the little things he’s done throughout the years. Some are funny and make you cackle, and some draw your attention away from your textbook so you can look at him in shock. It’s impossible for Yeonjun to wipe the grin off his face—not when he bids you good night, not when he walks back to his dorm, not even when lays in bed to sleep. His heart never lets up on that jittery rush it has for you.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

A quintessential part of the college experience, Yeonjun’s come to find out, is trying out all the different ramen brands to see which one is the best. He’s a fan of whichever one he’s chowing down on right now, and a 5-pack of this barely puts a dent in his bank account. Seems like a winner.

He glances over at his dorm’s door when it opens, curious to see that Soobin brought someone over. Yeonjun isn’t bothered by that, though; if this guy is anything like Soobin, he’s not worried about getting annoyed.

“You can remember to buy ramen but not detergent?” Soobin asks, chuckling. Yeonjun chooses to read that as a joke instead of a passive aggressive comment.

“Ugh, dude, I keep forgetting, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. Yeonjun points at Soobin’s friend and continues, “This your friend?”

“Yeah, I’m Beomgyu,” the friend introduces. Something about him looks a little familiar.

“Nice to meet you,” Yeonjun greets with a nod.

Soobin grabs some clothes from his closet then turns to the door. “I’m gonna go change and then we can head out,” he says to Beomgyu, then heads off to the bathroom.

When the door shuts, Yeonjun returns his attention to his ramen and ignores Beomgyu’s presence as best as he can. That doesn’t last too long, though, cause soon enough, Beomgyu’s breaking the silence: “Are you still hanging out with Y/n?”

Yeonjun turns in his seat to face Beomgyu. He’s not sure how Beomgyu would know that, but Yeonjun entertains the question nevertheless. “Yeah. You know her?” he asks.

“She’s my friend,” he says. “Kind of.”

Yeonjun already feels something weird in the air. He’s waiting for the turn that this conversation is bound to take. He finally pieces together why this guy looks so familiar; he’s one of the boys at the party in the group that you kept looking over at. Now Yeonjun’s really curious.

“Why do you ask?” The question comes out a little hesitantly.

“I’m telling you this man-to-man, I think you might be getting played,” Beomgyu says.

Yeonjun’s immediate reaction is only confusion. How would you be playing him? You’ve been nothing but sincere with your feelings—or, that’s what it seemed like, at least. Now Yeonjun’s doubting himself. A part of him doesn’t believe it and doesn’t want to indulge in this conversation any further, but he’d start spiraling whether or not Beomgyu explains himself now. Worry swirls in Yeonjun’s stomach.

“Why?” he asks despite himself.

“This is just what I’ve heard, but apparently she had a thing with Kai, and he started talking to another girl, so she wanted to get back at him. I don’t know, though.”

Kai. That boy who came up to you at the party. Yeonjun remembers him.

He doesn’t want to show how much those words affect him, but shit. Hearing that hurts. His body feels weightless, like he’d be falling over if he wasn’t sitting at his desk. He nods as he exhales slowly, keeping his heart from going haywire.

“Huh,” is all he says. Soobin comes back the next second, and Beomgyu heads out with him after that, and the world keeps spinning on, but Yeonjun feels trapped in that moment. He waits to wake up in a sweat, hoping this is all some nightmare that’s going to end, but the wake never comes. He’s forced to deal with his whirling thoughts instead.

None of this can be true. It wouldn’t make sense. You kissed Yeonjun. You said you were interested in him. If this was all a lie, how will Yeonjun ever trust anyone again? When he came to you bleeding out, you saved his life. When you found out his secret identity, you kept it safe. Yeonjun miscalculated something that night—there is something more sacred and dangerous to trust you with than those things: his heart.

He doesn’t even want to finish his ramen anymore. His fingers brush against the wound that’s healing pretty well thanks to you, and a thought crosses his mind. The night that you kissed him was the night you found out he was Spider-man. An especially sickening question starts to haunt him. Did you only start liking him because of that?

Yeonjun feels played. He’s always known that he was a fool, so he doesn’t know why he’s so surprised, but really? Beer pong lord?

Five minutes is hardly enough to process the information Beomgyu dumped onto Yeonjun, but that’s all he gets, because now his alarm is going off and telling him to go over to the lab. He drops his head to his desk with a groan. It’s like an anchor’s been tied to his heart, sinking further and further until it makes him his stomach churn.

The fresh air feels good in Yeonjun’s lungs as he walks over to the lab. A permanent pout is etched onto his lips, unable to stop thinking about you. Good things. Bad things. Everything. Each memory hurts now.

He probably looks like some depressed college kid, walking around with his hood up and head down. He should be less pathetic, pick himself up and get himself together. It’s not like you two were really anything anyway. A kiss doesn't always mean something to everyone. Maybe it’s his fault for assuming that for you, it did.

It’s not just that, though. Yeah, kissing you made Yeonjun feel alive in a way that only swinging through the city could compare to, but there’s so much more to you than that. It’s the way you talked to him, the way you cared for him, the way you looked at him. How the hell do you fake that kind of connection? Hurt splits him at the seams like he’s being torn in two, but he keeps walking like nothing’s wrong.

“Yeonjun!” He recognizes that voice immediately. He pulls his eyes off the sidewalk and catches sight of you walking up to him. He almost forgot that he walks past your little field on the way to his lab.

It feels like he’s the one keeping a secret, palms clamming up as you stand in front of him. He stops in his tracks to allow you the conversation. “Hey,” he says.

“What are you up to?” you ask. He fidgets with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. Should he just act normal? Should he let you get away with using him? When he thinks about it like that, it puts a sour taste in his mouth.

“I’m headed to the lab. Got some stuff to do, and it’s time sensitive, so…” he trails off awkwardly, looking off into the distance instead of at you.

“Oh, okay,” you say, sounding a little dejected. Yeonjun shouldn’t be feeling bad for you right now, but he can’t help it. It makes his chest clench to hear the joy leave your voice. “Maybe we can hang out after? Just to study or something,” you offer.

Yeonjun sighs, “Maybe.”

You’re quiet for a second as you assess him. “Are you okay?” Concern fills your voice, and when he brings his vision back to you, he can see it in your eyes too.

“I’ll talk to you about it later,” he says.

You frown, taking in his flat expression. You must gain some insight from that, because then you’re asking, “Did I do something?”

He wants to hold his head, feeling defeated and frustrated and sad and a million other different things. He’s not sure how to label it. He’s never felt emotions this complex before, probably because he’s never liked anyone this much before.

“Oh god, did I?” you repeat, more fear in your voice at Yeonjun’s lack of a response. It strikes him and deflates his will to be dismissive about it, not wanting you to sit here worrying for the rest of the day. Curse his soft heart.

“Just come with me,” Yeonjun says, continuing on the path to his lab building. You follow beside him, taking long strides to match his quick pace. He notices you struggling to keep up, so he slows down, even though it might make him a few minutes late.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. He can feel you looking at him, but he keeps his eyes ahead.

“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for,” he mumbles.

“Tell me then,” you plead. The thought of having to talk about this with you makes him feel sick. He doesn’t know if he can even choke up the words without getting nauseous.

“Let me clock into my lab first.” The rest of the walk is silent; you keep quiet even as you enter the room with him, watching him take off his sweatshirt and put on his lab coat. You’re quiet even as he goes through the study procedure, not even lingering near him to see what he’s doing. He feels a little cruel for it, wondering if he’s just torturing you by forcing you to stand silently and worry about what he must be upset at you for.

He steals a glance at you. You’re leaning against the wall by the door, so many steps away, keeping so much distance. He bites his lip and looks away, figuring it’s time to start the conversation.

“I want to talk to you, but I don’t want you to lie to me,” Yeonjun says, breaking the long stretch of silence. He walks toward you, stopping before he gets too close.

“I won’t. I’m not gonna hide anything from you.” It’s funny you say that.

“Do you like Kai?” His question catches you off guard, your frown leaving your face.

“No,” you answer.

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.”

“Okay. So why did Beomgyu tell me you used me to get back at him?”

He watches you stiffen at the question. “How do you know Beomgyu?” you ask.

“Please just answer me,” Yeonjun says. He doesn’t want to run around in circles, he just wants to hear the truth from you.

“I don’t like Kai anymore.” Something about that sentence hits like a stab to the gut. Yeonjun would know the feeling.

He tsks and shakes his head, ready to walk away and end the conversation, but you continue, “Please let me say the whole story.” Yeonjun sighs and meets your eyes. He decides to hear you out, only because a part of him is dying for you to make this right.

“Go ahead,” he says.

“I invited you to the party because you’re my friend, and I think you’re cute, but also for really petty, stupid revenge. It was so dumb and I’m so sorry, I feel so fucking bad for that now,” you explain. Yeonjun thinks back to how excited he was when you asked him. He remembers the rush of butterflies, the nervousness that pooled in his stomach, the adrenaline through his veins when he realized he finally had your attention.

You continue, “But I swear on my life, Yeonjun, the second we went outside at that party, I realized how unfair it was. I wanted to make Kai jealous, but when we were standing out there, I couldn’t do it. You’re a good person, and I felt fucking awful, and I didn’t go through with anything, and I’m glad I didn’t. You gave me one of the best nights of my life that day. I mean that. Seriously.”

There’s sincerity in your eyes, so Yeonjun knows you’re not lying. The ache in his chest is dull now, but still there. He can’t believe you planned to use him as some pawn to get back at Kai.

“Why’d I have to hear it from someone else? Why couldn’t you tell me yourself?” he asks. It’s pathetic how his voice carries more heartbreak than anger.

“Cause I didn’t want you to misunderstand and leave!” you explain, desperate. “Yeonjun, please. I don’t care about Kai anymore. I haven’t even talked to him since the party.”

Yeonjun wishes he could feel comforted by your words, but all he feels is hurt. He has this terrible thing where he can’t stop asking questions that will only batter him worse. “So you didn’t really like me?”

You take a step closer to him, placing both hands over your heart. Yeonjun’s not blind; he can see the fear in your eyes, the worry that he might walk away. He doesn’t have it in him to relieve your stress right now.

“I always liked you. I like you more every day,” you answer. There’s honesty in your words, which Yeonjun appreciates. It doesn’t quite melt away his insecurities, though.

Yeonjun can’t bear looking at you any longer, dropping his gaze to the floor and stepping back. He’s ready to leave, thinking he needs the night to himself to stare at the ceiling and contemplate this whole situation.

You stop him before he can get too far. Your hand hooks onto the sleeve of his lab coat, shaking as you cling to him. It’s so pitiful that it ruins the monstrous image Yeonjun’s trying to fit you into in his mind. Against his better judgment, his eyes meet yours again.

He’s about to speak—maybe to console you, to get some of that sadness out of your eyes—but the sound of glass breaking behind him makes him turn with wide eyes, searching for the damage. He’ll be the one stuck replacing any broken equipment; he can only pray that it wasn’t a more expensive piece.

His eyes flit across the room, but he finds nothing. Is he seriously losing his mind? Every time he’s in this lab, there’s something new giving him a mini heart attack. He brushes this off as some kind of paranoia. He considers talking to his professor about taking a break from the lab, just until he can restore his sanity.

“Let’s just head out of here,” Yeonjun says, unable to rid himself of the chill down his spine.

“Do you still like me?” you ask, unable to move on from the conversation. You stay planted in your spot as Yeonjun takes off his lab gear. He groans internally at your question—of course he still likes you. Do you think his feelings are so malleable? His adoration for you feels like an immovable boulder. He can’t even stay mad at you for as long as he wanted to, though he tries not to let you win too easily.

He sighs out your name instead of answering. He waits for you at the door as he throws his sweatshirt back on, and you trudge forward with a pout. Once his sweatshirt is slipped over his head, he catches sight of something behind you, heart stopping entirely.

“What the hell—?!” he emits, eyes growing wide as the cell clump he’d been working with expands out past its storage spot, spilling out onto the floor. The broken glass earlier must’ve been from the petri dish—shit, he should’ve checked. It’s discolored now, so dark it’s nearly black, and growing more rapidly than it should be able to.

You spin on your feet to see what Yeonjun’s looking at, yelping when you see the growth. You back up quickly and bump into Yeonjun’s chest. “What’s happening?” you ask, turning your head back to look up at him.

“I don’t know,” he answers. He has to think fast, because it doesn’t look like the cell replication is stopping any time soon—if anything, it looks like it’s growing exponentially. The clump is a goo-like substance, slowly spilling out further and further onto the floor, looking something like tar as it expands out. “We’ll have to trigger rapid apoptosis,” he says.

“How do we do that?” you ask. Yeonjun’s not sure either, so he doesn’t bother to answer. He opens one of the cabinets and pulls out all the different liquid chemicals he can find. One of these is bound to do something.

You hold yourself and watch him carefully, still looking shy and desperate and nervous from your argument. Yeonjun’s not sure why you seem to be more bothered by him not reassuring you that he likes you than by the clump that grows behind you. Your attention remains on him the whole time.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask.

“No,” he answers sharply and quickly. He has bigger issues to be worried about than staying mad at you.

“I promise I wasn’t lying. I won’t talk to Kai ever again.”

“Why are we having this conversation right now?!” Yeonjun asks, frustrated.

“Because it’s important to me that you know!”

He ignores you in favor of unscrewing the lid to one of the acids, hoping it could digest the cells. When he pours it onto the clump, a loud hiss rings through the room and smoke comes up from the mass. It doesn’t seem to dissolve the cells, though.

He emits an exasperated groan, opening the lid to another chemical substance, and you rush to do the same. He can’t stop to think about how dangerous this is, too focused on controlling the problem before it gets irreparable. You and Yeonjun pour chemicals onto it at the same time, and it seems to react. The tar-like blob thickens now, erecting itself up from the floor languidly.

You and Yeonjun back up, watching with fearful eyes as it stands. It moves like it’s alive, like it’s a living organism. It’s eerily silent for a room as you two stare at the mass in shock. Then, rapidly, it comes charging at you, attaching itself to your cardigan as you shriek. Yeonjun acts fast, running to you and grabbing your waist, adhering his feet to the floor to keep you from getting dragged any more. You shed your cardigan quickly before tugging it back from the blob. It tears from how harsh you pull it, but you don’t seem to care, chucking it to the opposite side of the room.

This is an unfortunate time to see you in a tight-fitting tank top. Your chest heaves from the panic of being grabbed by the organism, rising and falling as you start to steady your breath. You look over at him, and he finds himself blushing and removing his gaze from you in embarrassment. God, now he’s the one struggling to focus on the bigger problem.

Yeonjun directs his wrist at the blob, shooting a web at it to keep it from charging at you again. The web sends the mass flying back until it collides with the wall. Though it can’t remove itself from the confines of the web, it still slowly grows, and it will be able to expand enough to attack again soon. Still, this should buy you two some more time.

“You should leave,” Yeonjun says, coming to you and cupping your face. His eyes beg you to go, strung up on the possibility of you getting hurt.

“I won’t,” you say, grabbing onto his wrists.

“Please. You’re too important.” His hand strokes through your hair like you’re something precious.

You take his hand and kiss it. “You are too. I won’t leave.”

He sighs. He knows he’s not winning this, there’s too much determination in your words. Before he removes his focus from you, he thinks he should tell you one last thing. “Just so you know, I like you too.”

You’re barely able to hold back your smile, but Yeonjun can’t stay and watch your reaction. The mass continues to grow over the confines of the web, and he has to find a way to control it before it overcomes the binds. He opens the binder that holds the descriptions of all the lab materials, hoping he can find something useful in there. His eyes flit across the words, scanning for the chemicals that will be his saving grace.

He stops when he reads the description for nitric acid. The words digest and dissolve kick his body to life, hope stirring inside of him. “Come here with the nitric acid!” he shouts over his shoulder.

“Which one is that?” you ask hurriedly, scanning through the different bottles of chemicals.

“It’s in a brown translucent bottle. Quick!” Before he can panic further, you’re racing to his side with a bottle of the acid. Yeonjun quickly pours it over the mass, watching it shrivel when the liquid hits its surface. A weight lifts off Yeonjun’s shoulders when he realizes he finally found something that works. The bottle doesn’t hold nearly enough, though, because Yeonjun empties it out before he can melt the organism completely.

He turns to you expectantly, and you’re rushing back to the counter where all the chemical substances are held. You’re turning each to read the labels, growing more aggravated as you fail to find another container of nitric acid. You curse as you swing the cabinet doors open, checking if there’s any stored away in there.

You pull out a bottle from the cabinet, reading it quickly. “Would sulfuric acid work?” you ask, looking at Yeonjun like you need him to say yes.

“It would react with the nitric acid,” he answers. You groan.

“You think I know any of this stuff?!” You go back to searching through the cabinet.

“Yes! You’re, like, the smartest girl I know!” Yeonjun exclaims, equally as frustrated.

“You must not know a lot of girls then,” you huff. You finally pull out a bottle that seems to match, running over to Yeonjun. He takes it from your hands and pours the liquid over what remains of the clump, watching it dissolve until all that’s left is a murky puddle on the floor. He plops the nitric acid onto a table, finally letting himself take a full breath. He tastes the chemicals swirling in the air, but he can’t bring himself to care about any toxins filling his lungs. He’s worn out, crouching down in exhaustion with a groan.

When he picks his head up from between his arms, he searches for you. You’re bent over one of the tables, head tucked between your arms as half your body rests over the surface. You must be just as drained as him. He stretches his body out as he stands back up, then approaches you at the opposite side of the table. He rests his elbows onto the tabletop, leaning forward to be closer to you.

“You get feisty when you’re working under pressure,” Yeonjun teases, breathless laugh escaping him. You lift your head to look at him, and he can see how you hold back your amusement.

“I could say the same about you,” you respond. You seem winded, still breathing hard as you push yourself off the table and pick up your cardigan from the floor. You hold up your cardigan and examine the damage. It’s stained and ripped and looks disgusting. You pout. “This was my favorite one…”

“Don’t worry, you’re pretty good at stitching things back up,” Yeonjun says, coming up to you and taking the cardigan from your hands to tie it around your waist. You look up at him, something fond shining in your eyes.

“I guess I am,” you say, tugging on Yeonjun’s sweatshirt to pull him closer to you. You wear a dopey smile as you stare at him, hands resting on his shoulders, and Yeonjun really hopes that you do what he knows you’re both thinking about right now.

You don’t leave him waiting long; your hand comes to his jaw to bring his face to yours, and the next second, Yeonjun’s having the best kiss of his life. It feels like a reward after the shitshow that today’s been. For it to come to this, he’d relive it a dozen more times.

“Wait,” Yeonjun says, pulling back. “Are we dating now?”

“Haven’t we been dating?” You look at him like he’s a fool, and it endears Yeonjun endlessly.

“I mean, boyfriend-girlfriend dating,” Yeonjun explains.

“Oh, I’ve already told, like, three people that you’re my boyfriend.” There might be real hearts in Yeonjun’s eyes right now.

“Good,” he says, coming in for another quick kiss. “I’m all yours.” His words are uttered against your lips, since he can’t seem to pull himself away from you.

You gladly accept his kisses, and he has to keep himself from getting too drunk off your taste. He has to remember he’s still in a lab with a bunch of chemicals filling the air—it’s probably a good idea to get out. Even though he doesn’t want to, Yeonjun steps back and looks around at the mess throughout the room. Given everything that happened, it’s not awful. A mop would take care of ninety percent of the problem.

“We should clean this up,” he sighs.

“Yeah,” you agree. Neither of you make a move. You start laughing after a few seconds, and Yeonjun returns his attention to you with a cheeky grin.

“No, let’s just leave,” he suggests. He’s exhausted. He’ll explain everything to his professor tomorrow, he can’t take any more of this today.

“Should we go back to my place then?” you ask. Yeonjun does a very poor job of hiding his excitement. He wants more than anything to hold you to his chest and zip across campus to get to your dorm, but alas, he does the smart thing instead. A ten minute walk has never felt more like ten hours in his life, and seeing your dorm building finally come into view has his heart racing in anticipation.

Yeonjun’s all over you the minute your door closes behind him. He doesn’t let your lips disconnect for a second—not to talk, not to breathe, because nothing’s more important than tasting your lips on his.

Your back falls to your mattress, and Yeonjun’s mind briefly wanders to the last time you two were here. Having you sprawled out beneath him is quite different than you patching him up above him. In a way, that moment felt like the start of something bigger between you. The initial spark came long before it, but that night is what caused fire to catch. He feeds the flame now, fingers untying the cardigan at your waist and throwing it to the floor. Your shirt’s the next thing to go, and he only pulls away long enough to shed the cloth off of you.

His mouth on yours is ravenous and unwilling to waste any more time. He feels up your stomach, cherishing the warm flesh with eager fingers. He trails his hands up to your chest, feeling your breasts over your bra. You gasp when he squeezes experimentally, and it encourages him to continue, movements growing hungry.

You break away from the kiss, panting for air while Yeonjun latches onto your jaw. He’s insatiable, sucking your skin and placing kitten licks over the mark after. He hovers his face over yours, biting back his grin when he sees how hazy your eyes have become.

You catch his face in your hand, cupping his jaw and thumbing his cheek. The action makes his heart soar, and he leans into your warm touch. Your smile turns from soft to wicked when you push your thumb between his lips, and he engulfs the digit without a fight.

“I like you,” you say as he sucks your thumb, blinking up at him adoringly like he’s not doing some lewd act right now. He swirls his tongue around you before popping it out of his mouth, kissing your fingertip then taking your hand in his own.

“I like you too.” His free hand goes behind your back to search for your bra clasp, fumbling with it clumsily until he gets it to disconnect. You pull the material off, and Yeonjun’s cock twitches in his pants when he takes in the sight of you. A part of him feels wrong for doing this, like this is too dirty, but a larger part of him can’t wait to indulge in you. He’ll just make sure to take you out for dinner after.

Yeonjun throws his sweatshirt and shirt to the floor, pride swirling inside him when he sees the way you ogle at his skin. You lay your hand over his chest, trailing your fingers over the expanse teasingly. He takes your wrist and drags your hand away.

“You don’t deserve to touch me. I’m still upset about Kai,” he says. It’s a lie, but he’s in a playful mood. Your hand makes its way back to his chest despite that, so he grabs it and brings it to the bed, shooting a web over your wrist so you can’t move it. He giggles. The whole web-slinging thing comes with some perks.

“Oh, come on,” you sulk as he does the same to your other wrist. He leans back for a moment, looking down at you all proud. A few different sights flash through his mind, endless possibilities of how he could make the most of your hands being restrained. Maybe he should punish you for ever liking Kai in the first place, keep you on the edge until you’re chanting apologies into the air. He could also just indulge in your body greedily, taste every inch of you without your hands pulling him away. The ache in his pants grows at the thought.

You sigh in satisfaction when his hand meets your clothed core. Your hips grind against his hand, and he allows you to use him to find your pleasure. Your hands close into fists as Yeonjun lets you ride his open palm, still fighting against your restraints.

“How much do you like me?” Yeonjun asks. His free hand holds your waist, fingers brushing against your skin gently.

“So much,” you answer, never abandoning your rhythm. “You’re so smart, and handsome, and funny, and—nngh—and good to me…” Yeonjun’s hand travels from your waist to your chest in reward, thumb rolling over one of your nipples.

“Yeah, I am good to you. I stay with you even though you’re mean to me.”

You shake your head at his statement. “I’m not mean to you,” you say.

He laughs at how you try to control yourself, how serious your tone gets. Your hips slow, so he takes measures into his own hands and moves his palm against your cunt instead. If he presses down hard enough, he can feel how wet you are even through your pants.

“You are,” he says. “You use me to get other men.” He knows that’s not true now, but a part of him is still a little bruised by the idea. He figures that airing out his insecurities like this might help him, and it makes him feel less vulnerable.

“No! That’s not true!” Yeonjun ignores you and takes off your pants, letting them join the other articles of clothing on your floor. He short circuits when he sees the wet patch on your panties. A sense of shame must fill you then, because your legs clamp shut to block his view.

“Hey, be nice,” he says, opening your legs back up. He holds you open as he presses his knee to your folds, and he can feel your arousal even through the fabric of his sweatpants. He’s squealing internally, overjoyed to have you soaking for him, but he keeps his calm on the outside.

Your hands push against the webs again, shaking the mattress a little. You pout at him. “I want to touch you,” you whine.

“Sorry about that,” he says. He matches your pout as his hands smooth down your legs, lazily exploring your flesh. He grabs your hips and positions them up a little so that you’re pressing into his thigh. He hears the moan that gets caught in your throat as he drags your cunt against him, holding back a satisfied smirk.

“Should I tell you what I like about you?” Yeonjun asks, something silky and smooth in his voice. You nod, rolling your hips over his thigh. “Say pleaseeeee,” he prompts.

“Please,” you echo. He giggles.

“Again.” He’s having fun.

“Please, Yeonjun,” you beg, sweet voice dripping with need.

He releases your hips so he can pull off your panties, tugging you back onto him once you kick the cloth off your ankles. He can really feel how wet you are now, and it makes a knot form in his stomach. He wants you more than anything.

“I like how pretty you are,” he starts, leaning over you to press kisses against your neck. “And I like how cool you are.” His mouth travels a little lower, sucking at your collarbone. “And I like how I can talk to you for hours and never get bored.” His lips smother your chest, just above your tits, familiarizing himself with every inch of your skin. Your hips buck against him when he presses his thigh more firmly between your legs. “And I like how wet you get,” he laughs.

His mouth finds your breasts then, tongue swirling teasingly around one of your buds. Your nipples perk up, begging for his attention. He drags his tongue over to your other mound, sucking at the swell of flesh, moaning against you. The taste of your skin in his mouth makes him feel high.

You whine, hips rolling more fervently against him, chasing your approaching high. Yeonjun busies himself with delivering kitten licks to your nipples, watching the way they glisten with his saliva after he runs his tongue across them a few times. He peels himself off of you when your rhythm gets unsteady, not wanting you to cum yet. There’s a look of betrayal on your face as he disconnects from you, not touching you at all anymore.

“Yeonjun,” you moan, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in. “I need to cum.” Your needy cunt grinds against the tent in his boxers, hungrily trying to get yourself off. He lets you have your fun for a minute, enjoying the feel of your warm, wet slit coating his clothed cock, before holding your hips still and keeping you from moving. That doesn’t stop you from digging your heels into his back, pushing him harder against you.

He removes your legs from him, holding you open as he plunges two fingers into your cunt. Your heat takes him in so nicely, the slide of his digits inside you made so easy from how slick your cunt is. You arch your back, moaning out as he curls his fingers inside you.

“Tight girl, gotta stretch you out,” he says, scissoring his digits to prepare you. Your arousal pools out of you, dripping onto the mattress as Yeonjun fucks you on his fingers. “Need to get you ready for me.”

“Mhm, need your dick,” you say. You look so helpless like this, laying back and letting Yeonjun fuck his fingers into you however he wants. He increases his speed just because he can, knowing you can’t pry his hand away, grinning when you emit a surprised gasp. Your walls start tightening around his fingers, a warning of your orgasm, and Yeonjun pulls his hand away before you can get there.

You’re whining his name again, thighs clamping shut to relieve the pressure. He shushes you as he tugs his boxers out of the way, stroking his cock as he watches the way you tremble. Poor thing.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asks. Your legs spread open immediately in invitation. He watches as a glob of arousal drips out from your core.

“Yes,” you breathe out. He pumps his shaft a few more times before bringing it to your folds, letting your wetness coat his tip. “Put it in,” you beg, jerking your hips up. He ignores your plea, bringing the head of his cock to your clit to tap on it a few times. The stimulation sends a buzz through you, and Yeonjun coos at you sweetly.

“Want you to feel so good,” he says, aligning his tip to your hole and starts pushing in. You throw your head back and groan, and he gives your neck a wet kiss. “Wanna be the best you’ve had.” He sinks in slowly, letting your walls adjust to him inch by inch. You feel like heaven around him, and his fingers dig into your hips to keep himself from losing his mind. He wants to meld himself into you.

He grinds his pelvis against you when he bottoms out, steadying his breaths so he doesn’t lose himself too quickly. His moans are deep and airy, while yours are whiny and pathetic. He trails a hand up your body until he’s cupping your face, bringing your attention to him. You look dazed, and he wants to watch you fall apart. He needs to see your perfect face scrunched up with pleasure, eyes glassy and mouth open, going stupid from how fucked out you are.

He presses a light kiss against your lips, then leans his face into the crook of your neck. He finally starts pulling back, slamming back into you with a whimper. Your cunt takes him so readily despite how tight you are, your arousal making him glide in and out of you so easily.

“Gonna be perfect for you,” Yeonjun promises. “Be a good boyfriend. Fuck you every day. Keep you happy.” He lifts himself up to watch your mouth fall open as he thrusts into you. He presses against your stomach to feel himself inside you, moaning whorishly when he does. It makes him fuck you harder, desperation coursing through his system.

You can barely speak from how far gone you are, stuttering out curses and whimpers of his name. He brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing at the swollen bud to get you clenching around him. He groans at how tight you get, sucking him in like your body was meant to take him.

“Need you to cum now,” Yeonjun says, feeling his high looming over. “Gotta feel you milking my cock, let me see it.”

“Kiss me,” you say breathlessly, mouth hanging open as you wait for him to take it. He obliges eagerly, shoving his tongue into your mouth with a needy whine. He licks into you as if this will coax your orgasm out, and it does. Your walls clamp around him, and he’s barely able to move from how tight you get. He circles your clit diligently, only letting up when your body jolts in overstimulation.

He pulls out soon after, only having to stroke himself a few times before he’s spilling his seed onto your stomach. He groans as he milks himself for every last drop, hand shaking as he releases the last of it. You look hot painted with his cum; he bites his lip and squeezes your thighs, needing more and more of you.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he says, making you turn your head away shyly.

“Thanks. You are too.” His stomach flips, feeling proud that he earned your praise. He lowers himself to your torso, lapping at the milky strands of his cum. He cleans you nicely, swallowing down his own release until your stomach’s coated in only his saliva. He brings himself to your slit to lap at it languidly, loving the little whines you emit at the sensation.

“Did so good for me, thank you,” he murmurs into your cunt. He pushes his tongue into your entrance, slowly fucking the muscle inside you. You sigh and roll your hips against his face, relaxed and melting into the feeling.

“Y-you’re good too,” you praise. He licks his way up to your clit, taking it into his mouth and letting his tongue roll over the bud. He likes to hear that he’s being good for you, it makes him feel like he’s worthy of you. He thrives off your happiness, so he feels content as he pleases you with his mouth.

He never wants to let you go. He wants you in his arms forever, he wants to stay in this room and live the rest of his life with just you by his side. This much is enough for him. He glides his hands down your thighs, letting his fingers lightly drag along your skin. He opens his mouth a little more to taste more of you, to kiss your folds more hungrily. He presses the tip of his tongue to your bud, focusing the pressure right against it until he hears you mewl.

“Right there!” you gasp out, pressing yourself further into Yeonjun’s face. He hooks his arms around your thighs to keep you in place, making sure you don’t jolt away when your orgasm creeps up on you. He flicks his tongue over your clit repeatedly, feeling your thighs shake in his grasp. He doesn’t stop until you’re releasing on his face, coating his mouth and chin with your essence.

He detaches himself after a minute, licking his lips and letting go of your legs. He sits up and smiles at you, taking in how pretty you look. He holds your jaw so he can kiss you, and he can’t help but to giggle into the kiss. This is so surreal. He would have fainted if he knew one month ago that this would be happening to him.

“Hi,” you say when he finally pulls his face from yours. This feels like a dream.

“Hi,” he echoes, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He cherishes the smile you give him.

“So when does this dissolve?” you ask, tugging at the webs holding your arms in place. Yeonjun scratches his neck bashfully. That's enough of an answer for you. “Yeonjun…” you sigh, body deflating.

“Less than two hours!” he rushes to say.

“Two hours?!”

“It’s not that bad. I think we can pass the time,” he says, failing to hold back his smile.

Your eyes flit down to his stirring cock. “I guess I have nothing better to do,” you give in. Yeonjun sees right through your nonchalant act, but he lets you get away with it. He has better things to busy himself with than arguing about that.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You bring Yeonjun to the market after learning about the laundry detergent debacle. You place the item in your basket, shaking your head at him as you do. “I can’t believe your roommate had to tell me to get you to buy this.”

Yeonjun raises his hands in defense. “I get busy sometimes,” he says.

“With coming to my dorm every other night?” you ask with a raised brow, walking into the next aisle.

Yeonjun drops a candy bar into the basket alongside the detergent. “No, with lab stuff, and class stuff, and Spidey stuff,” he corrects. He picks up a bottle of your favorite drink as he passes by it on the shelf. “And with girlfriend stuff,” he adds sweetly.

“Right,” you say unconvincingly, smiling as you nod your head.

Yeonjun grabs a pair of sunglasses off a rack, placing them on his face and turning to you with a grin. “How cool are these?” he asks, pointing at himself.

You laugh and lift the sunglasses up so they rest on his head. “So cool,” you answer. You tilt your head to check the price on them. “You should totally spend the last of your money on them.”

He pulls the glasses off his face to check the price tag, eyebrows raising in reaction. He puts them back on the rack. He can’t get rid of the smile on his face as he watches you shop, endeared and swooned by every little thing you do. It’s small moments like these that make him feel like the luckiest guy on earth.

“We should get bandages. I can’t believe you don’t have any,” you say, looking for where the item would be in the store.

“There’s a lot of things I don’t have. I’m operating on a limited budget,” he explains. It’s not like he can tackle a job on top of everything else he does. He’s grown accustomed to his ways of living, accepting that he’s become the male college student stereotype.

“I’m glad I stepped into your life then,” you say, throwing a box of bandages into your basket. “I’m actually scared you’d die without me.”

Yeonjun can’t help but to laugh at that. “I would die without you,” he agrees. He follows you as you continue walking around the store, aimlessly searching for anything you might need. You stop when you feel your phone buzz, pulling out your phone upon receiving a notification, checking it curiously. He reads the message over your shoulder; it’s an alert from your local news station about some rescue mission for a bunch of dogs that ran loose from their shelter just now. You turn to him with a knowing smile.

“That’s your cue, Spider-man.”

notes: god i loved writing this so much…. i hope u like spideyjjun just as much as i do<3 i would love to hear ur thoughts if u have anyyy!!! tysm for reading hehe

taglist: @ambsphoria @bananasdiary @beaabz @beomgyusluver @beomsdoll @brrytears @bumgyuz @dawngyu @enhastolemyheart @estrnrea @fancypeacepersona @fatbixchwithanopinion @heejamas @heesmiles @insanityz @i4tzy @jellyyjn @kejingken @lilbrorufr @lovesickchoi @mrsjohnnysuh @raspberrii @sanscupid @saraalovestxt @soobinieswife @starrynightgyu @starstrucktae @taebatu @taysfairies @tubatukimoa @tyongyuta @usuallyunlikelyfox @verco @vvjolyneee @xylatox @younbeanz @yourenzoo @yunverie 🤍

#txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt fic #yeonjun fic #txt smut #yeonjun smut

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moongreenlight · 1 year ago

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More childhood best friend!Gaz headcanons because I cannot stop thinking about him

He’s your valentine every single year. Started as his dad trying to teach him proper etiquette when he was young and just never stopped. A bouquet of flowers on your stoop and a cheap card he scratches a note into. Never signs his name. Just ends ‘xx.’

He chaperoned your first real date in high school because your dad paid for his tank of gas. The guy you were keen on never called you back after. It took you until you were seventeen to realize that it was probably because Kyle was sitting on the same side of the booth as you and spoon feeding you bites of dinner.

He also ruined your first real relationship when he beat your boyfriend to asking you to formal (a full two months early). You tried to explain that it didn’t mean anything, but he just couldn’t understand. Kyle said it was for the better while you sobbed into his shoulder. “Tosser can’t cope with the fact he’ll always be second place. Better not to waste your time.”

His basic training was 26 weeks away from home. He went immediately after picking up his diploma. It was the most miserable summer of your entire life. Spent primarily waiting by the mailbox for the postman to deliver your daily letters back and forth. He’s started signing off “Garrick. x.”

Both of your families went to his graduation, but his mother insisted you were the one to tap him out. You barely recognized him, like the summer where his family took a month long vacation and he came back a full four inches taller. He’s bigger now, his shoulders permanently rolled back, but he still carries himself with that same cool ease.

He barely stays long enough to say his hello’s to everyone until he takes you back to the car and lays you out in the backseat. Griping the whole way about how “you’d be in a hurry, too. Couldn’t even get away with a wank in the shower.” And “s’your duty to the country. You wanna thank me for my service, don’t you?” You swear the two of you fit easier six months ago, but now he’s cramped between the seats. Caged in tight. His head bumps the window each time he snaps his hips into you.

You seriously considered moving close to base when you found out he was being permanently relocated after joining the task force, but he wouldn’t hear a word about it.

So you settle on sending each other disposable cameras back and forth. You’ve got a picture of him on a mission in Amsterdam framed up in your hall. He’s got a cigarette hanging out of his big, toothy smile, posing like an overexcited tourist in front of a lingerie shop with a display window that made your ears hot when you first saw it.

He called you a few days after his incident with the helo in Urzikstan. Boasted his adventure with only a whispering tremble on the soft underside of his tough facade. Carried on until you wretched dryly into the receiver. Working yourself up into sick with worry even though he promised he was fine, just sticking to the ground for a bit.

Even though you’re seeing him less nowadays, he’s still somehow coming between you and any romantic pursuits you make. You chalk it up to coincidence most of the time, but a blind eye can only be turned so far.

He seems to have a sixth sense for when you’re on a date or a one night stand. Sending texts and pictures that could be misconstrued as flirty to someone who didn’t know the dynamic at just the wrong moment every time. And there was the one time where he sent flowers to your desk at work just a few days after you’d said something about a coworker getting sweet on you.

It happened so often that you eventually decided that the dating scene just wasn’t for you. Resigned to focus on work and friends. Adopting a new mantra of “if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

You’ve got no idea why Kyle is so pleased to hear about the conclusion you’ve come to. Or why he’s suddenly coming back home for a few weeks.

#he is rotting my brain from the inside out I need him carnally #moongreenlight #moongreenlightwrites #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #141 headcanons #drabble #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz smut #gaz smut #gaz mw2 #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick #gaz call of duty #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick smut #cbf!gaz

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tac-the-unseen · 1 year ago

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JUST READ THE COD GANG REACTING TO READER FALING AN ORGASM SO WHAT IF READER ADMITS THEY NEVER HAD ONE BEFORE?????? LIKE- NEW RELATIONSHIP??????? SORRY FOR CAPS IM ECSTATIC RN BC UR WORK IS SO GOOD🫶🫶🫶🫶🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌

COD characters finding out that Reader's past lover(s) have never given them an Orgasm.

Am I exactly sure what Anon is asking? No, But I will persist.

I'm choosing to write this with the interpretation of Reader never having an orgasm even though they've had sex with others. (The other way I read it was that Reader just flat out never had an orgasm before, and I think that's extremely unrealistic. So we're going with that one) ALSO because of the prompt You and the guys have yet to bump uglies!

Ghost:

•Simon is a little confused "Like...None of them?"

•He takes it very seriously

•He asks you to elaborate a little more. He just wants to know if the other guys sucked (or just didn't in this case) or if you two needed to do something specific in order to please you.

•He understands if you need some kind of accommodations and will ask you what he needs to do

•You and Simon have a long discussion over what you want your first time with him to be like. He makes sure you both have a clear understanding of what's to come (ha).

Soap:

•First thing he says is “Would you like to?”

•He thinks it's a little funny but really sad too

•”Darling, you're too pretty to let subpar men just use you.”

•He immediately wants to show you how it's done and what you've been robbed off

•He asks if he can take you for a “good ol' mustache ride”

Price:

•”Young men are dumb.” He says and takes a drag from his cigar

•”But I guess it's nice to know I have no competition.” He smiles

•He does talk to you about your needs and what he needs to do to meet them properly

•He takes you out on a nice dinner date, goes on a nice walk with you, and end up with his hands wrapped around your waist taking you home

Alejandro:

•Can not stop laughing

•As soon as you tell him he erupts into a fit of giggles. He takes him a full 3 minutes before he calms down enough to hug you and pat you back.

•”You poor thing.” he chuckles and kisses your cheek. “I'll make sure to make up for all their failures, Mi querida.”

•He’ll ask you what they were doing down there the whole time. Which leads to even more laughter when you tell him.

•”But I think I should buy you a nice dinner first.” he winks

Roach:

•Stunned

•Absolutely floored

•”Like never?” He signs. You can see the horror in his eyes

•He’s got his head in hands, contemplating life. He's so concerned for you. He has to take a moment of silence to comprehend the level of incompetence the men in your life must have had.

•When he finally sits up he looks you directly in the eyes and signs “Thank God I'm good with my hands.”

Gaz:

•Slowly turns his head to look at you with his brows furrowed and confusion

•Is too shock to speak

•He gets up to pour himself some Scotch

•”How many times have you had to fake an orgasm?” “8” he proceeds to down the entire drink and pour himself another

•This time he hands it to you “You need this more than me.”

Rudy:

•He gets up and takes a lap around the house

•When he gets back he pulls you into a hug

•”You deserve so much better, Mi Tesoro.”

•Kisses your jaw and runs his hands down your back. “I can give you so much better.” He tells you in-between kisses

•He offers you himself until your properly satisfied, for however long that takes

König:

•”Why do you like incompetent men?”

•He means it in a genuine way, But he accidentally reads you to filth.

•”Why spend your time and affection on someone who cannot please you?” he asks. “I didn't want to seem shallow.” You replied. “Shallow? Liebste, No.”

•He practically scolds you for allowing such men into your life. It's actually the most you've ever heard him speak. Which really tells you how upset he is.

•”You're Lucky I'm here. I will not let such things happen ever again.”

•And fuuuck, he means it

Mace:

•”Other men are filthy animals.” he tells you like it was a normal thing to say

•He gets in close to you and rests his arms on your hips. “Don’t get me wrong, I'm a man whore.” He laughs lightly and kisses you “But you knew that.”

•He asks you for all the funny details and thinks it would make a decent bonding experience.

•He tells you about his less than great sex stories and failures

•”Rest assured sweetheart, I'm a pro at making people scream.”

Thanks for reading <3

(I realize now that I wrote them all in different mindsets of this prompt... Good luck with that, I guess)

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ms-demeanor · 2 years ago

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i really liked OJST in the mid-2010s but i didn’t stop reading cause of the cuck comic - wasn’t there also a comic erika moen wrote about (functionally) harassing lesbians with her now-husband?

In the mid 2010s closet-keys criticized one of Erika Moen's early diary comics and described Erika Moen as "Reassuring a cishet partner that it’s totally okay to use hate speech towards wlw at Pride" and condoning the harassment and fetishization of lesbians because of a 2007 comic that she had made as part of a webcomic she had written about gender and her interactions with her queerness.

The hate speech in question is the partner asking "are you sure you want to hold my hand with all these dykes around?" while they are pretty clearly at a Dyke Day event during pride, and the reassurance that 'it's totally okay to use hate speech toward wlw' is Erika responding "sweetie, I'm proud to be with you."

The comic is still up with a disclaimer that it was written at a different time, and I know that's probably not going to fly with a lot of people but if you were a bi woman in the early to mid 2000s it was pretty common to use statements like "lol yeah i'm into women my boyfriend is fine with it as long as I take pictures" to diffuse the biphobia from straight people AND to say shit like "I'm not a party bi, I actually love pussy, thanks" to diffuse the biphobia from queer people. (if you were a bi guy in the early to mid 2000s i'm sorry and I'm sorry now because we got LUG but that mostly went away and you *still* have to deal with the "gay in waiting" bullshit).

That comic ends with Erika and her partner looking at a woman and saying "I'd totally do her" while the woman thinks "pigs" and if you think that means that they literally sat on the street and vocally commented about lesbians passing by them or that they condone harassing lesbians (in, I cannot stress this enough, a diary comic written by someone in their early twenties who is realizing they are occasionally interested in some men some of the time after identifying as a lesbian their whole life), then I'm gonna go ahead and recommend signing up for some variety or other of literary analysis class. Do we think that Erika is seriously implying that she is going to make her boyfriend gay if she fucks him in this comic from a year later?

If this comic bothers you and you see it as a straight-passing couple giving the go-ahead to harass lesbians, you do you, I'm not saying you have to read the comic or enjoy Erika Moen.

I am saying it's a bit of a stretch, though, and certainly the least charitable explanation possible, and that we should probably give people some space to say awkward things about their sexuality and to make missteps when discussing it in their early twenties and not call them lesbophobic fifteen years after the fact for a college comic.

Moen also gets called transphobic because she has described trans men as adorable/cute in a way that could be read as patronizing in one comic and because she made a comic about wearing a packer for fun and for sexual gratification with her cis male partner as a cis woman.

Appropriately, all of these things feel very "late twenty teens tumblr callout post."

If it bugs you, you don't have to read the comics but I've talked about Moen before and I've gotten the anons in my inbox calling me lesbophobic for recommending her comic when in 2007 she made a comic about catcalling lesbians and condoning street harassment.

Which is frustrating because Erika Moen writes a comic about sex toys that has incredible body and gender diversity and is interested in making sure that people of all sexualities are having safe, enjoyable sex and talking openly about it. This is Rebecca Sugar condones war crimes level discourse over a creator who makes a genuinely good comic and gets dismissed as cringe by people who hate open discussions of sex and gets dismissed as a bigot (in ways that I think are incredibly unfair given the vast majority of her work) among people who *claim* to love open discussions of sex but who *actually* love witch hunts.

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mirensiart · 10 months ago

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i heard you wish for knowledge on roolie. and for today i shall forbid my role as a ghost and become a genie. :D

SO. Hyrule's games don't really have too much of a story on their own, my guy is hcs galore here. But what is canon is that after he killed ganon, his blood became cursed, meaning if he dies ganon will be brought back from the dead to reign terror over hyrule, with no hero to stop him.

Now in Zelda 2 (the adventure of link) he successfully defeats all Ganons servants who know the ritual to bring back ganon, saving hyrule and ensuring its safety. but people saw that and went "nah" so in most hcs he can still be used to bring back the ugly blue pig.

this means that monsters and a cult called "The Eyes of Ganon" most often are constantly hunting him down to kill him and use his blood to bring back their master, meaning poor dude is always on the run and has no real area to call home. some people hc that he also stays away from towns for this reason, to not draw monsters there like the selfless hero he is

he also is often in fanfic deathly afraid of bleeding, because it draws monsters to him. in the pain-share au this might also add emotional pain onto physical pain because first he gets a wound bad enough to bleed, and then he's freaking out and panicking on top of that

onto his spells. hyrule in-game has a fire spell, a thunder spell, a life spell, a jump spell and a fairy spell. the jump spell isnt really mentioned because in most stories this guy is already capable of jumping without magic. his fire spell casts fire around him, thunder spell strikes lighting all around (which could be pretty risky for fighting in groups), life spell heals himself or others as we see with twi in the lu comic, and fairy spell turns him into a fairy. (a lot of people hc him to be a fae because of this)

he has a magic bar though, and a limited amount of magic he can use. many people hc that if he gets too low on magic it could be dangerous, but thats not canon in the game.

zelda 1's plot is pretty much just "get triangle, kill pig" and thats it. zelda 2 is that princess zelda has been cursed to fall asleep and cannot be woken up, so to save her sleeping beauty ass hyrule goes and gets the triforce. along the way he finds ganons servants in dungeons, and defeats them so ganon cannot be ressurected. he eventually finds an old man in a dungeon, and has to fight his shadow (which btw is the hardest bossfight ever like wtf) and upon defeating it, proves himself worthy of the triforce and gets it. he then cures zelda of the curse, wakes her up, and they make out. yes the last part was actually in the game.

hyrules placement in the timeline is right after legends in the downfall timeline, so they get to be the downfall duo together. also hyrule is often hc with a huge hero-worship thing going on with legend, and he's afraid to dishonor or disappoint his ancestor.

and thats about all i know at least, i may be wrong and im sure someone will correct me if i am, but i wanted to provide info anyways! im sorry for the huge ask btw ;-;

Wow, ok! First of all, thank u very much for all this, like this has been super helpful!

Like, seriously, tysm for taking ur time to explain everything to me, I really appreciate it 🥹💖

I did know some of these things so I suppose I wasn't that lost on hyrule's lore!

I do enjoy the downfall duo tbh, I did know beforehand that hyrule is the last one in the downfall timeline, since I used to own hyrule historia ages ago (it got lost during one of the many times I changed apartments 😔) I think it's cute for hyrule to have a hero worship on him and for legend to be soft to hyrule too lol

Anyway! This has been super informative, I'll make sure to keep it in mind from now on, thank you!

#one day i will play his games i swear #miry's ask box

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flowery-language · 2 years ago

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𓆩♡𓆪 STAY AWAY. Loser! Ellie Williams headcanons

a/n : I am struggling to start writing and stop procrastinating on writing the series I am working on so have some quick Ellie head canons while you wait also loser!Ellie is just regular Ellie and y’all aren’t ready for that conversation also it isn’t much sorry I’ve been struggling with procrastinating on writing got to put something out for the mean time

Inspired by seriously go read theirs @cowgirlcherrie and my one of my close friends mannerisms

Warnings/content: 18+ mentions of sex mostly fluff and also Ellie is a loser and cursing fingering!receiving masturbating and mentions of face riding

ੈ✩‧₊˚ you met loser!Ellie in Highschool and you bonded your intense overwhelming hatred for the people at your school over how much you hated everyone else here and that your the only person she could tolerate

“Everyone here are fucking npc’s with no capacity for thinking for themselves”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Loser!Ellie definitely owns a women love me fish fear me shirt that she started wearing ironically until it wasn’t anymore

ੈ✩‧₊˚ she always had to make jokes about her nonexistent dick much to your annoyance she has the humor of twelve year old boy

“How about you suck 15 inch cock”

“You don’t have one” you exclaimed

“Fuck you mean women literally beg me to see it”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ loser!Ellie unironically loves family guy and American guy and and fucking loves Rick and Morty and Bojack horseman

“I know I am a lesbian but I would fuck rick Sanchez no questions asked”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ you and loser!Ellie bonded over your intense overwhelming hatred for chase Atlantic

“They sound like they are fucking singing in cursive”

“I know right thank you someone gets it”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ loser!ellie has the music taste of someone’s father and she is very unapologetic about it she listens to Radiohead, nirvana, slipknot, the cure and the Beatles. etc

“ you should listen to the cure”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ loser!Ellie got into an argument once with you because you said you liked Saturn more than Jupiter

“Jupiter or Saturn pick one”

“Uh—Saturn”

“Jupiter is fucking better”

“No it’s not I like Saturn better”

“You only like Saturn because it’s fucking pretty”

“No I don’t”

“Yes you fucking do”

“Whatever”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ loser!Ellie cannot flirt with women for shit she just infodumps to them and hopes her info would get them to like her and wanna be with her and she is lucky that she is attractive enough to pull it off

ੈ✩‧₊˚ when loser!Ellie started to develop a crush on you she would do favours and constantly try to impress you she once took you to skater park to show you the tricks she was learning she ended up falling flat on her face because she was too busy staring into your eyes and she had the biggest blush on her face when you laughed at her for it.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ By the time Loser!Ellie developed feelings for you she would go above and beyond because suddenly the concept of helping others was completely uninteresting until it was you you got your heart shattered by another girl and all she could think of is that she would never treat you that way ever.

“It’s just that I wished that she didn’t string me along for a month and actually rejected me instead of telling me she liked me back when she didn’t”

“I swear when I see that fucker in my line of vision it won’t be pretty you deserve better than her anyway you were out of her league”

“Honestly I am starting to think maybe it’s because I am not attractive enough for girls to want me”

“Don’t fucking say that you were out of her league you will find someone who treats you so good ”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ loser!Ellie always wants you to try smoking weed with her even though you very much didn’t like taking drugs or being high it’s mostly because you make her so nervous and if she was high with you she could maybe try to flirt with you without fumbling her words and not looking you in the eye.

“Come on try it for me it feels really good I promise”

“Yeah no thanks Ellie”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ she knew that she couldn’t keep this to herself anymore she wanted you and Every time you tried to date someone else it made her genuinely sick to her stomach.

“ oh fuck saying this shit isn’t easy but I gotta say it I like you okay I really really do”

“Your fucking with me right now if your joking Ellie it’s not funny”

“I am not joking I fucking do okay”

“Wait your not”

“Of course I am not”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ NSFW section

ੈ✩‧₊˚ you are always the first person she thinks of when she gets high late at night she has to resist the urge to call you over her hand in her boxers.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Loser!Ellie has a happy trail.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ she loves it when you ride her face and not just hovering she wants you to sit on it at first you were really nervous and insecure but she was a having the time of her life and Everytime you do hover she would beg you sit properly

“Babe please just sit stop fucking hovering”

ੈ✩‧₊˚she loves it when you ride her thighs she loves the sensory experience of you riding it and when you ride her fingers she always wishes to be inside you and feel it when you ride it

ੈ✩‧₊˚ she is obsessed with you wearing her clothes especially her boxers she loves giving them to you

“You’re gonna run out of boxers to wear if you keep this up”

“I don’t fucking care”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ she loves you to death and will not hesitate to show it off she always loves mentioning you much to literally everyone’s annoyance.

“My girl is getting a PHD is so smart”

“This reminds me my girlfriend really loves these flowers I gotta get them”

#ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie willams x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie williams #ellie tlou

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svnaaaaaa · 2 years ago

Text

Dreaming of you - Sano Manjiro 'Mikey' (AU)

pairing : mikey x fem reader

summary : based on my first story's 'dreaming of you'.

warning(s) : based on manga, spoilers from chapter 263, 264, 265, 266, 268, 275, 276, 277, 278 (i hope you guys finished reading the manga already), no related to the first and second part so can read on its own, angst, fighting scene

previous : part two

masterlist

author's note : i was watching 'the good bad mother' and idk what to say about it. i would to say thank you for enjoying this mini series of mine. actually i have no intention of continuing but seeing how many of you guys enjoyed the first part so i decided to make it parallel with the manga where i started with the first ever time leap by shinichiro then the death of shinichiro, time skip to kanto manji arc and now the ending. i also happened to watched the last episode of tokyo revengers so now i am bored so i decided to read the manga again and again until season three came out lol. so here's the last part of my 'my first story dedication' series because i love the band so much that i would hope that maybe one day my first story would make an ost for tokyo revengers eheh.

2003

i hate weak people. i love tough guys.

kenchin, baji, mitsuya, pahchin and kazutora. including me, the six strongest friends come together and formed tokyo manji gang. despite me suggesting tokyo manjiro gang, but the guys rejected the idea within seconds.

i like strong guys.

but that day...

2005

"watch over me, shin-nii."

i never anyone about this but i miss hoshiko. also because i feel bad for what i did to her. i loved her but i didn't know how to tell her. but it was too late. she already with shin-nii, watching over me.

and then i met these two people who'd change my fate.

kisaki tetta, with just strength isn't enough. what i need is darkness. the more i push it down, the more darkness overflows. i'll just give to my body and kill kazutora.

as i was about to swing my final punch, takemitchy stood in front of me. "takemitchy?" i muttered as takemitchy just smiled. "mikey-kun."

hanagaki takemichi, he wasn't the strongest one ever. but he stood up to me. even though he couldn't beat me, and easy to cry, before i could realized it and he's always there right in the middle.

takemitchy, why?

2007

"why are you getting up?" mikey asked, watching takemichi wobbling while getting up after mikey beaten him up. "do you think you can beat me? after i beaten you up into a pulp?" mikey asked as he just watching takemichi. spitting out blood, takemichi stabilized himself. "i made a promise to your future self." taking a step as the pain of his foot starting to take a toll on him. "to baji-kun." panting as he approaching to where mikey stood at. "and i promised draken-kun, that i cannot lose because," takemichi lunged himself to mikey, readying his punch. "the only one who can save you from the darkness is me!" shouting, takemichi launched himself before getting side-kicked by mikey, causing him to bounced back on his back.

"have you forgetten about hoshiko-san?" takemichi asked, making mikey halted his action of walking towards takemichi.

'mikey-kun!'

'here mikey-kun, your favourite one is the red bean paste right?'

as takemichi launches his way back to mikey once again, rage filled mikey's body. "don't you ever say her name!" mikey shouted and then he kicked takemichi right on his chest, causing takemichi to swayed back like before. "that's right, she would want me to save you too. like emma-chan." takemichi said again and with that, he was brutally kicked by mikey repeatedly where the other members of the two gangs couldn't even dare to interfere just like tenjiku-toman before.

looking back at takemichi, mikey stared at him like he was nothing, like worthless being. "you're seriously gonna die soon." mikey warned, wanting takemichi to stop. takemichi staggered on standing up, looking at mikey.

"come at me, mikey."

mikey feel the anger once again and jumped his way to kick takemichi. "why did you come back takemitchy? you've seen the video i left and i've promised to protect toman and hina-chan, didn't i?" mikey said. "i told you to forget about me!" mikey swung his fist and punches takemichi's face. "now everything i've done is useless."

takemichi stood up back to fight back and swung his fists towards mikey's way. "i came back because i knew what was wrapped yourself in. and i came back to save you." takemichi told him. "i've never known what a dark impulse is, from what waka said, the dark impulse was born out of love." mikey said, making takemichi confused even more. "that man turned back time to save me." mikey told takemichi, as takemichi just stared at him. with blank eyes, mikey stared back at takemichi.

"sano shinichiro is a time leaper."

"he gave the time leap power to some random kid." wakasa told them as he told back the story of what sano shinichiro told him before he died.

"after he gave you his power, days later he died." mikey continued while looking at takemichi. "this dark impulse's real identity was the curse from shinichiro killed the time leaper." mikey said as he placed his hand on his chest. "it affects those around me and, it's eating me alive." mikey said, looking at his chest where he could feel his heart beat racing.

takemichi slowly approching mikey. "you don't have to hold it in anymore." takemichi informed mikey, making mikey looking up at him. "i formed the second generation of toman to save you so release that dark impulse, mikey." takemichi said. mikey dropped his hand from his chest as he could feel something evil lurking out of him.

"whatever happens, it's on you."

with that, mikey didn't realize what happened next.

the fight goes on with mikey grabbing a katana from haruchiyo. and mikey wasn't even himself as smirk follows. the persona inside mikey wasn't even mikey at all. mikey swung the katana and cut a slit upon takemichi's right arm.

"don't you get it hanagaki? you can't break the curse!" haruchiyo shouted as mikey smirked. "they have been merged together that and everyone who are close to him ended up die!" haruchiyo continued.

"and everyone who tries to save him from thr darkness will ended up dying, you're gonna die hanagaki!"

with that, takemichi have been stabbed by mikey.

stoned, mikey has been pulled into a hug by takemichi with the katana buried in his body. "i'm not gonna lose, manjiro because i will shoulder this dark impulse." takemichi said to mikey's ear. "if you're gonna act stupid, i will take you down because you're my friend for life." takemichi continued and after that, blood coming out of his mouth which apparently he was stabbed by the chest.

"friend?" mikey mumbled to himself. within that, the darkness in him went gone and mikey realized the situation he's in. "takemitchy..." mikey looked at the person in his arms. "take my hand, you're the trigger mikey-kun." takemichi informed as he was shakingly grabbing mikey's hand. "what are you saying takemitchy?" mikey said slowly.

staggered, takemichi fall onto his knees. "oi, takemitchy!" mikey shouted, as everyone around were all stunned. "i..." takemichi said slowly, coughing out blood even more. "will go back to past, over and over..." takemichi continued saying throughout the blood. "that's enough takemitchy!" mikey warned. "so that i can smile with you, and everyone that we love and close to heart." takemichi said.

the light was dimmed. mikey felt no movement coming from takemichi as he lightly shaking takemichi's body. not moving or reacting, takemichi fell onto mikey's chest. "AAAAAHHHHHHHH!" falling onto his knees, takemichi fell onto his laps and mikey repeatedly shaking takemichi in order to wake him up. sobbing, mikey grabbed takemichi's hands. "i distanced myself so that none of this would happen! open your eyes, takemitchy!" mikey shouted as tears falling out of his eyes, not wanting to accept what it is happening right in front of him.

1998

hearing a banter, hoshiko shocked by the noise which soon followed by a punching sound. emma got up and left hoshiko in the living room to see the ruckus. hoshiko stood up as well and followed emma. "oi keisuke!" emma shouted as she placed her fists on her waist. "don't fight in front of other people's house!" emma pointed out and takemichi looked at emma. "emma-chan.." then he looked at the girl next to emma. "hoshiko-san.." hoshiko weirded out as she looked at takemichi. "do we know each other?" hoshiko questioned. "oi what is this ruckus all about?" a voice said walking towards where everyone is at. "oi keisuke, what's going on right in the morning huh?" it was shinichiro. "you're being too loud." shinichiro mumbled. "wait, who are you?" shinichiro asked takemichi, causing the kids there were looking at him as well.

takemichi felt awkward as he realized that he has time-leaped into time where everyone hasn't met him yet. "huh, who are you?" it was mikey. can't believe his eyes, takemichi's eyes got teared up. "mikey-kun.."

"you're, takemitchy? realized mikey, as he remembers those eyes. takemichi stared at mikey and he shocked by the nickname. 'how could he-'

"is it really you takemitchy?" mikey asked. "huh.." was all takemichi uttered out. "no way.."

"WE TIME-LEAPED TOGETHER!" and with that, the two of them went off running. "what's wrong with them?" shinichiro asked. "beats me." keisuke replied.

"mikey! don't forget to come back for dinner!" hoshiko reminded as she waved her arm.

2017

"will do!" mikey replied as takemichi stood in front of the sano residence, on his bike. mikey ride on the back as takemichi turned on his bike given by mikey as present during their youth. hoshiko stood in front of the sano residence gate, watching mikey and takemichi. "be safe okay, make sure everything is well prepared." hoshiko reminded, making both mikey and takemichi chuckled. "okay got it hoshiko-chan." takemichi replied. hoshiko smiled as she rubbing her pregnant stomach.

in 2005, mikey accepted hoshiko's confession as encouraged by emma one day while preparing chocolates for valentine's day. starting from there, even being the captain of toman, hoshiko accepted mikey for who he is and mikey for who she is. hoshiko became of the woman of toman and was well-protected by the members of toman as a sign of loyalty to the captain.

in 2008, shinichiro married to someone he met at his shop. he knew that was a love at first sight and the girl was also a motorbike enthusiast, same as him. also mikey and hoshiko graduated from high school. with support from her parents, hoshiko pursued her studies in collage in journalism so now hoshiko is a chief editor in one of biggest magazine company in tokyo.

married to mikey in 2015, both of them are now a proud parents-to-be. the baby will be due during autumn time. both of them are the current residence of sano residence with sano mansaku since both shinichiro and emma moved out right after getting married. nevertheless, both lived near so whenever there are family events, they won't missed it. shinichiro continued working in ss motors alongside with his wife as co-owner and emma as a housewife to draken, who works with mikey as his mechanic for top of manji, mikey's motorsport team as he is the racer for the team. as for izana, he continued living in yokohama as director of tenjiku, which he occasionally travelling but still based in yokohama.

life is nice when you are surrounded with good people.

july 11, 2017

the day has comes by and it is now takemichi and hinata's wedding day. the venue itself was extravagant. fillied with toman's former members, which all of them are really living the life.

hoshiko took a seat which has been assigned her name which with the rest of the sano family. mikey went to the groom's dressing room to congratulate takemichi himself. hoshiko already met with hinata with emma but left first since the pregnancy itself has been exhausting for hoshiko. "oh shiko-chan!" shinichiro's wife greeted as she took a seat next to hoshiko's left. "nee-san." hoshiko greeted back, bowing her head lightly. "where's mikey?" shinichiro asked as he took a seat next to his wife's left. "he's with the groom." hoshiko told him as he nodded his head. "ah."

"hello family." izana greeted as he took a seat next to shinichiro, shaking his hand. "how's business 'zana?" shinichiro asked and shinichiro's wife rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "men and business, am i right shiko-chan?" shinichiro's wife asked, making hoshiko chuckled. "yerp." hoshiko replied.

then mikey pop-ed out of nowhere and took a seat next to his wife's right, followed by emma and draken. everyone else also took their assignated seats and then the ceremony begins.

"groom takemichi, do you take hinata as your lawful wedded wife to cherish and promise to be faithful to her for as long as you both shall live?" the minister asked and as he finished asking, he looked at takemichi which makes mikey looked at his wife. realized that mikey turned his head, hoshiko looked at mikey, smiling lightly. "what is it?" hoshiko asked whispering. "i love you." mikey whispered back, making hoshiko blushed with the sudden confession.

the vow exchanged to hinata and mikey continued on looking at his wife. "you know you suppose to say it back right?" mikey whispered and hoshiko giggled as she detected an upset mikey. placing her hand on his left cheek, mikey leaned into it. "i love you too mikey, for as long as i shall live." hoshiko whispered back, reciting her vow from two years ago. smiling, mikey grabbed his wife's placed hand and kissed her palm. intertwined their hands together, mikey placed it on his left thigh, continued to watch the ceremony as both takemichi and hinata now exchange wedding rings.

"you may now kiss the bride." the minister announced and without a blink, both groom and bride kissed to seal the vow and everyone starting to cheer and clapping hands.

No matter what words I look for

"I love you" isn't enough

You’re the only, you’re the only, you’re the only one

I love you from the bottom of my heart

2005

one afternoon on monday where during recess time, hoshiko and mikey met at the rooftop of their school as promised between the two. "here, mikey-kun." hoshiko said as she held out a box towards his way, bowing her head 90 degrees. mikey looked at the box and then looked up at hoshiko. "what's this?" mikey asked but hoshiko keep on bowing. "please accept it." was all hoshiko said and then mikey opened it to reveal a box of things like chocolates, other sweets and a letter.

mikey took out the letter and read it instantly.

'dear mikey-kun, happy valentine's day. i hope you like the present that i gave to you. i just want to say this right but i am too nervous to say it in person so here's why the letter exists. i like you mikey-kun and i hope you would return the same feelings as well. hoshiko xx'

mikey looked at hoshiko as she was fidgetting with her fingers while looking at her shoes. smiling, mikey took hoshiko's hands into his. hoshiko looked up at him. seeing how mikey smiled at her, hoshiko's face becoming more redder than ever.

"hoshiko, i like you too."

the end ♡ thank you for enjoying this special series of mine!

#sano manjiro #manjiro sano #mikey sano #sano mikey manjiro #sano manjiro x reader #sano manjiro x y/n #sano mikey x reader #tokyo revengers sano manjiro #manjiro sano x reader #manjiro sano x y/n #manjiro sano x you #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader

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penname-artist · 1 year ago

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My first vent was way too rambly, so I'll spare you guys a lot of extra long stories:

You might have noticed, in my Ao3: I'm cutting back on my amount of writing, almost full-stop right now.

It's not because I want to. It's because I physically cannot write right now. My hands will not the words make the stories happen.

Why?

People.

It's always fuckin people, coming in, ruining all the good things in the world, y'know?

No but seriously...it's people, in the sense that I've lost a lot of friends recently, and gained many more people on my List of Blocked, Blurry Faces.

Three more in the last six months, actually. Some pretty big ones too. People I really cared about. People I really wanted to believe cared about me, too. But actions and events in the past have made it clear that is no longer the case. There is nothing more for me now, in those empty places.

And the grief of losing people over and over again, over such stupidly small things, over such basic needs...it's overwhelming. The amount of grief I already spent the last two-ish years processing, finally at a point where I can live normally again, just for more shit to hit the fan the moment I've cleaned the living room carpet.

It's really starting to take its toll. It's getting harder and harder to want to write, to want to be around and present and a part of the show. Even just a conversation. When I know that it will keep ending in closing curtains. I will keep having bridges to burn down, whether or not I want to.

I'm not entirely done from it all. Not yet, anyways. There's more I still want to do.

But...I know it's getting nearer to me. The end of this season, my near-decade clinging to this fandom like a ship in the storm, sailing from one disaster to the next.

The smoke from all these fallen bridges is making it hard to breathe from the top of the hill.

There's some good news though, like a little light at the end of a long tunnel. There are new opportunities beginning to emerge, areas that feel scary and new, but also tantalizing, exciting. My optimism is compromised and quiet, but it does compel me, this new thing.

But, until I can get out of the cautious stage, I am suffering in the ways of my passions and hobbies. Writing is very hard. Art is very strenuous, too. I have so many things I can't do right now because they're just not enough of a priority at this point in time.

So in all this, really I'm only asking you the reader for your patience, which thus far I've been so thankful to have. I'm in a state of metamorphosis right now, shedding one form and waiting for the other, and I don't know how long this new process will take me. But it is going, for it is inevitable.

One day, I won't post Planes things very much anymore. One day they'll be very few and far between. But right now, I'm riding the wave, trying to wait out the growing pains, and giving myself the time I need to just...be. And to stop being what I should be, and start being what I want to be.

Which is a cool yet approachable goth-hippie that FINALLY lands a goddamn date

This has been my 1 AM ramble. Thank you for coming to my Pen Talk.

#vent #personal post

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wickedadaar · 15 days ago

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Mr. & Mrs.: The Grand Necropolis

Featuring Lorenzo from @alystrin03

Co-written by alystrin03. Pulled directly from Allegra and Lorenzo’s RP transcripts with minimal edits.

Word count: 3,324

Allie debated with herself about whether or not to knock. She steeled her nerves, finding her bravery as she knocked on his door. "Renzo? Its me, Allie. Can I come in?" "Allie? Come in!"

She hesitantly opened the door and walked in, her heart pounding in her chest. She fidgeted nervously with her hands. Renzo is sat on a stool, taking care of the knives. "Hey little one," he smiles, fondly. "I'd say good morning, but I'd just said that in person." "You remember how you were asking about spirits and stuff? I met one. Here, in the lighthouse!!" Her eyes were wide with excitement as she trotted over to him.

"You met WHAT?" he stands up quickly and checks on her. "Did it do anything to you? Are you ok?" "A spirit! She didn't say what kind. Basically, one of the Watcher has a spirit residing within her. How cool is that?!" she blushes a little at his concern. "I'm fine, Renzo. We talked, they didn't do anything to me. In fact, the Watcher gave me permission to see if I can make a stronger version of the charm I gave you for her so the wisps leave her alone." He frowns, not sure, "Ok, I trust you. But if any spirit - or anyone - does you anything bad, I'll send them personally back to the Fade."

Her blush deepens at his words. "You would do that for me? Really?" "Of course. No one hurts my Lady of the Wisps. NO ONE." "Aww, that's really sweet of you. Never had a Crow offer to defend me before." She pauses for a moment. "Don't you usually charge for that, though?" she jokes. He shudders, "Only for the contracts. That does not mean that if someone bothers anyone I care for, I cannot do anything." "Well, I'm honored. Thank you, for looking out for me. I know you can probably handle it yourself, but if anyone messes with you, I'll have a bone to pick with them. They'll wish I had sent them to the Fade."

"And what payment would you ask for that, milady?" "Same as before. Just your company is all I ask. I really enjoy spending time with you." "Just my company?" He smirks, teasing her "And I thought you would like to have more from me than just being by your side, doing nothing." "Well, I never specified in what capacity I wanted your company" she smirks, teasing him back "I enjoy spending time with you in every way." He keeps the joking mood "Ok, I'll simply sleep by your side or better, I'll be the big guy with an angry face that walks beside you, without saying a thing." "My hero," she teases, miming a faint, leaning heavily against him.

He grabs her in his arm, princess style. "All for my beautiful, sweet lady." She smiles at him, laughing, "See, this is exactly what I mean. You can always make me smile and laugh, and I really like that." "So I'm your private jester?" He frowns, teasingly. "I'll take that as my personal quest." He starts to turn around at full speed, with Allegra in his arms. She laughs and squeals as he spins the two of them "Renzo!" She could barely get words out she was laughing so much.

"YOU CANNOT STOP THE PRIVATE JESTER!" "Renzo, put me down!" she said through bouts of laughter as she tightly held onto him. "Ah no. You'll have to bribe me for your freedom!" "And what's your price, my dear?" "You'll have to be creative. Buuuut as long as you don't have an idea, I'm going to do THIS. " He lifts her, effortlessly, and holds her like a potato sack on his shoulder. She huffs a laugh, "Seriously? Do I even weigh anything to you?" "You weigh like a wisp for me. I am not precisely a small guy!"

She chuckles. "Fair enough. Hmmm. Would a kiss be payment enough?" "Hmmm I don't know. You'll have to try your luck." "And how do you propose I do that from back here?" "Wisp Lady, we both know how flexible you are." She chuckles. "If you insist" She rolled her hips toward his arm, twisting up just enough to plant a kiss on the opposite side of his neck, basically wrapping herself around his shoulders like one would wear a fur scarf. He shivers at the kiss, but manages to keep the composure. "Hmm a good one, but still not enough. But you have won the princess grabbing style." He lowered her from his shoulder and back into his arms.

She bites his neck but not hard enough to leave a mark and rakes her tongue across the skin "How about now?" "The thing is you are not encouraging me to release you... but the opposite." He kisses Allegra hard, making her lips part from the very beginning. A moan slips from her throat as she's caught off guard the intensity of the kiss but she melts into it immediately. "I must be one of your spirits, because you always get to make me want to be around you." "I could say the same about you. I could spend every moment in your arms."

Lorenzo is in the mood of joking again "That's what I call a good exercise!" He lifts her, using both of his arms, like practicing bicep curl. She squealed with laughter again, "Renzo!" "What? Don't you pretty women like tough, muscular men?" "Well, yes, but if you're going to manhandle me, you could be a little less gentle about it," she teased with a smirk. "A little less gentle? Do you want me to play hard, little one?' She chuckles and bites the corner of her lip nervously. "Maybe a little. Unless you don't want to." "I can play soft or hard. I will play as you want me to, you just need to ask," he smiles, finding her really cute so flustered.

She blushed deeply at his words, momentarily at a loss for words as she felt her heart beat in her throat. He leaves a soft kiss in her lips, smiling. "Well, I hope you jester did a good job, milady." Lorenzo leaves Allegra on the floor and makes an exagerated reverence. She laughed weakly, trying to regain her composure as she leans in towards him. "I'd say you did an excellent job, darling." "Darling, uh? That's a new petname for me Allie." She panics for a moment, "Do you not like it? I can call you something else if that's the case."

"Allie," he holds her face with the hands, "You could call me the worst insult and I'll find it delicious anyway just from hearing from you." Her eyes dart from his eyes to his lips and back again. "You are such a sweetheart." She leans up and gives him a gentle kiss. "You know what? I wanted to ask you a thing." "Of course. You can ask me anything." "Anything... Anything?" He adds, playfully. She chuckles. "I have a feeling I'll regret this, but yes, you can ask me anything and I'll do my best to answer. I'm an open book."

He laughs. "it was just a tease. I wanted to ask you to show me the Necropolis." Her eyes lit up "Really? I'd love to! When do you want to go? I'll clear my schedule." "As I previously said, my time is yours. Take me there whenever you want to." "We can go now?" she blurts out before reeling herself back in a little "I just need to grab my staff and we can go." green flames gathered in her palm as she held it out of her side and closed her eyes, a long mage's staff soon appearing in her hand. "There we go." He laughs, happy. "Will you ever cease to surprise me?" She teases with a smirk, "Oh, that's basically a parlor trick. You haven't seen my actual magic yet."

"I think differently when I remember last night..." She blushed heavily. "Oh, hush. You know that's not what I meant. Now, come on, let's get going." She waved him after her as she turned to leave his room. "Ok my dear. Lead the way"

*****

Once they arrived in the Necropolis, she looked around in quiet awe as she took a deep breath. She was home, back in her element. "Here we are. What do you think?" He looks around everywhere. He is amazed on the big statues, the tenuous light. "I... I did not think this was going to be so beautiful." She chuckles, "Yeah, it can be pretty breathtaking. Follow me, I have a spot I think you'll want to see." She offered her hand for him to take. He takes Allie's hand "Pretty breathtaking. That fits you, for sure."

She smiles brightly at him, before turning and leading him through the winding halls before arriving at the Memorial Gardens. "This is my favorite part of the Necropolis. The Memorial Gardens." She uses her free hand to hold his forearm, leaning closer to him as they walk amongst the graves. "And why? What things can you tell me about this place?" "This is where we bury the dead, and remember both the lives they lived and their death. Remembrance is what this place is all about. Those who came before us, and a reminder that one day we'll meet our own death, but death isn't necessarily the end. Our memory will live on."

He holds her hand tightly, pulling her against him. "A place to remember. What are your best memories, Allie?" "Well, there was the day I became a full member of the Watch. I'll never forget how proud everyone was of me. Other than that.... I don't really have any. I don't remember most of my life before I was a teenager, and those years.. Oof." She chuckles lightly, "Not exactly happy memories there. Honestly, I don't have many, well, not until recently at least." She looks up at him with a soft smile, her eyes glimmering in the low light.

"You can't tell me that without talking me about that teenager Allegra." He puts sad puppy eyes "Pleeeeeasee." "Fine. I was an awkward teenager. I found bones and the dead fascinating, apparently a little too much even for a Watcher. A lot of the other kids my age thought I was weird, so they avoided me. I spent a lot of time down here, alone. I found the quiet reverance calming. Helped me feel less alone. That's when the wisps started coming around. I would spend time with them every day. Even named some of them." She smiled a little wider at the memory before it faltered. "But that didn't help the others find me less weird. The wisps were my only friends for a long while down here." "At least you were a good person! The other children were the weird ones," he passes his arm behind his neck, a little embarrased. "I must admit I was quite a bully. I was big and felt a little out of place, and did not take good decisions. But I started to change my mind the day Alecto fought back... She pinned me to a wall using her ice magic, that day I learnt that I should behave better with the other kids."

She chuckled at his admission. "There may have been an incident with another kid when i was younger. My late teens, this guy wouldn't stop being an ass and I picked him up and flung him across the room with my magic." "Well, that explains everything. I get attached to women who could kick my ass." She chuckled. "Attached, hmm? I'd say I've gotten pretty attached to you myself." She leads him over to the two giant skeletons on top of that one tomb. "The eternity of a lover's embrace. This has always been my favorite part of this place. Its poetic in a way."

He looks at the statue, thinking is a bit creepy. "So, you want to leave me boneless and use my skeleton to recreate this statue??" She laughs genuinely. "Maker, no!! You wanted to see the Necropolis. It wouldn't be a complete tour without showing you my favorite part." She paused, realizing there's why he might react that way. "I guess it can be a little creepy." "Allie," he turns to look at her, grabs both her hands, "I remember you are holding hands and sharing your bed with a man who does not hesitate on killing anyone for a price. If you do not found that creepy, I don't have the right to find this either."

She smiles up at him warmly. "I could never find anything about you creepy, sweetheart. Besides, the whole assassin thing adds to your charm. The dangerous, charming Antivan who literally swept me off of my feet," she told him teasingly. "I am not that sure... Maybe you want to charm a bone provider for you? Because it’s working." He smiles and kisses her. She deepens the kiss, leaning against him as she wraps her arms around his neck. "What is our next stop here, darling?"

"Ahh, yes. This way. I wanted show you some of the upper halls. You can get a great view of the bell from up there." She took his hand once more and led him through the necropolis until they arrived at their destination. He looks around to the skeleton servants and the lively Necropolis. He did not imagine that everything could be so beautiful. "I love the view up here. You can see so many comings and goings." She pauses, looking over and studying him, "So, what do you think?"

"Well, it's beautiful, I must admit. But," he looks at her, out of the corner of his eye, "The most beautiful thing here is beside me." She chuckles, bumping his arm with hers. "Sweettalker. Keep it up and my ego will get unmanageable," she told him teasingly. "It would be a tie. You are always praising me and now I have a really good image of myself." She chuckles "Good. You deserve to have a good self-image. You're a wonderful person, Renzo." He grabs her by the shoulders, pulling her near, "I like to think I'm a better person because of you."

She was surprised, cautiously smiling, "Really? People usually say the opposite about me." "Why is that so?" She looks down, not meeting his eyes. "I struggled with my magic for a while, longer than a lot of the others. It was too much to control sometimes, especially when I got upset. I've accidentally unleashed it on people a few times." He hugs her, kissing the top of her hair. "Allie, I cannot imagine how being a little mage is. Even Alecto did not tell me much about it. But you are allowed to make mistakes. You are allowed to learn. And if someone does not see it... Well, they can fuck themselves." She hugs him back, wrapping her arms tightly around him, almost clinging to him, "You dont know how much that means to me, Renzo. Truly, thank you."

"Just promise me that, if someone pisses you again, you'll use your magic to turn them from inside out." She chuckles, "Oh, that's not even the worst thing I could do to them. I could turn them to dust with a flick of the wrist if I'm mad enough." "But that would not be funny to see. Ok, dust, you win. I cannot deny you anything." She pulls back just enough to look up at him and caress his cheek, "Such a sweetheart. I guess this means I'll always win from now on?" she asked teasingly. He laughs, caressing her cheek. "It depends, but mostly, yes. You are too cute not to be spoiled."

She leans in and kisses him gently. "You're too sweet, darling. Forgive me if I seem surprised by it every once in a while. I'm still getting used to it." "Well, it would happen less and less, because I plan to be like this with you all the time if you want to. It's been a while since I have been this fond of anyone." "Is that so? Well, I'm flattered. I find myself growing more fond of you every time we spend time together." "Hey, it's not my fault you have such a bad taste!" He smiles, looking around. "So, is there anything else you want to show me here? I usually don't have such sweet companions."

"Not really. Not unless you feel like fighting some spirits," she teased, only half serious. "Otherwise, we can head back whenever you're ready." "Allie... Every place I am with you is good enough to stay. Even if we have to fight spirits." She chuckles "Good thing I brought my staff then. You'll finally get to see me in action. In my element too, no less." She led him to a more isolated part of the necropolis where they soon encountered animated dead, hostile skeletons.

"Hey, I was joking! But ok, I'll let the alluring hero defend me this time, I have not brought anything with me," he winks. He could crush the skeletons, but want to see Allie in action. She channels from the fade, green flames conjuring in her hand, her eyes, and around her staff, leveling the skeletons with a single blast of energy. Lorenzo takes a seat, ready to enjoy the show. He has a proud look in his eyes. As another wave spawns, she grabs them with her magic, throwing the skeletons against the wall, scattering the bones loudly. A final, much larger skeleton appeared, which she handled deftly with a channeled funnel of energy.

He smiles at her, and approached avoiding the broken bones. "I know I've said this many times, but Allegra, you never cease to amaze me. How can such a wonderful girl like you have met a mess like me?" She returns the smile. "Because I spent a lot of years thinking I was broken, Lorenzo. You're helping me finally realize that's not the case. Being around you gives me the kind of confidence I've never had. I feel like I can really just be myself with you."

"You are not broken and I sincerely doubt you were in any moment. And even if that happened, I tend to make you smile every single day, because you deserve to be yourself and specially, to be happy." "This is exactly what I mean." She cozies up to him and rests her hands on his chest. "You make me happier than I have been in a very long time." He embraces her, feeling her scent, and smiles watching Allegra so relaxed. "Partly is your fault. I love the way you laugh." She chuckles. "Well I'm glad you like it. Seems I can never stop with you around." She wraps her arms around his neck, looking up at him with a warm smile.

"I have accepted my personal contract: to keep making you smile every single day you want me around." He kisses her, a soft, long kiss. She melts into the kiss, humming lightly. "The best kind of contract, if you ask me," she teased with a flirty smile. "But this comes with a cost. You have to be the happiest person and ask me whatever you need from me." She chuckled, "I think I can do that. After all, it's hard to be unhappy with you around." She gives him another gentle kiss. "What do you say, should we head back to the lighthouse?" "Oooohh I have plenty of people who could tell you otherwise... although none of them were half as sweet as you are." Kissing her forehead, he releases her from his embrace and takes one of her hands. "Let's go back, Allegra. Your wish is my command."

#dragon age #dragon age veilguard #rrau #rooks roost au #oc: allegra pentaghast #allegra pentaghast x lorenzo de riva #rp transcripts #writing

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the-grey-hunt · 11 months ago

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i wrote it

“Hey, uh. Thanks for being here, everyone. I think it’s pretty obvious that I don’t usually do this kind of thing...it’s an amateur hour and everything...but I’ll do my best, and your job is to not laugh if I don’t do something funny, so I know which parts were bad, for next time. I’m just kidding, I’m never doing this again. This is terrifying.

“Honestly the crowd is the worst part here, not just—strugging with this—microphone, there we go. You know, it’s a lot easier to do stuff when you can use both hands. These crutches are my hands’ one and only job a good 80% of the time, and as soon as one hand is off doing something else, the other one is on 24/7 duty. They don’t even get overtime pay.

“I do get questions a lot, and I can see those questions happening now in your faces, while you’re all staring at me. ‘Oh, what happened to your leg, were you in a terrible accident’. Uh, most disabled people I know, or know of, don’t like getting asked those questions because they’re personal and invasive, but I don’t even know where to start with them, ‘cause it turns out ‘I held a kid hostage and then saved her from ugly public art’ is not a socially acceptable answer.

“There’s the uncomfortable silence I was expecting.

“I am allowed to joke about the hostage thing. She’s grown up now and in the audience with veto power—yeah, hi Lynne, raise your hand so everybody can see I’m telling the truth. If she boos or makes a thumbs-down I have to stop making whatever joke I’m doing, so if I stop midsentence, it’s her fault.

“This wasn’t even my idea. The comedy part or the joking about taking a hostage part. She’s the one who told me about this, and when I said I didn’t have any funny stories, she said, ‘Well, you have regular stories you can tell, and I’ll come laugh at you.’

“Seriously, though, her idea. And I don’t know if being in jail for ten years is enough for me to earn the right to laugh about it, but maybe some of you will think it’s funny that I got my leg crushed for this kid and her response is that she’ll come laugh while I make a fool of myself in public.

“The only thing I got out of that was that I finally got them to get rid of that ugly sculpture in Temsik Park. Okay, boos and cheers. The people cheering in the back there: I see you. The people booing: That’s right. It was me. The stupid mascot almost killed me and now instead of the park, he’s in a museum where you have to pay to inflict him on your eyeballs, like a bunch of masochists. Seriously, who was responsible for that.

“Someone in the room just shouted ‘Edmonia Clay’. I don’t know if that’s the right answer but either way I’m going to forget it immediately, I refuse to know any fun facts about that thing.

“Hey, stop shouting! I don’t take audience participation, this is bad enough already! If you wanna be part of the show so bad you should’ve signed up! You’re gonna make me forget the story I was telling.

“...Right, right, okay. So, let me back up. I got out of jail last year. Oh. Uh, thanks, but you don’t have to clap for that. Anyway, I got out of jail and Lynne turns up. Yes, they know where you’re sitting, everyone can see you. Put your hand down. So I say, ‘what are you doing here’ and she says, ‘I’m your parole officer’, and I say, ‘are you joking or can I just go back to jail forever instead’.

“It was a joke, which is why I’m still here.

“Anyway, she says, ‘I’m here to help you find activities to do, to recover from being in jail’, and I say, ‘why’ and she says, ‘My therapist thinks it will help me’, which is the only answer I’m not allowed to have a problem with.

“So I listen to her, which immediately goes south, because she recommends I do this. And not only does she show up, she brings...okay, let’s count, because you’re all seated in the front row...the guy who arrested me, my actual parole officer, that guy’s wife, their kid, and I cannot stress this enough, her dog. You brought your dog to see me perform? He doesn’t even like me!

“I can see your mouth moving with some kind of justification, kid, but your DOG is barking too loud for me to hear it! Every time she brings this dog over to my house he barks at me. This dog will only be satisfied if I build the kid a temple and personally worship her for the rest of her life, which, I feel like it doesn’t need to be said, neither of us is interested in.

“I’m now being yelled at to say into the mic that the dog’s name is Missile. Why don’t you just take over and make him do tricks, that’ll go over better than whatever is happening right now.

“That was not an invitation— stop cheering for her! All right, fine, I’m leaving.”

i took one of yomiel’s legs in my post-canon fic, and then while going “hey what does he do for a job after prison?” i suddenly thought of the comedian josh sundquist…

#ghost trick #my writing #ghost trick spoilers #spoilers

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arlecchno · 3 years ago

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mission accomplished [ scaramouche x reader ]

nineteen | forelsket

prev masterlist next

things didn't turn out so well when scaramouche got a flat tire whilst heading for the hotel, yet maybe, it turned out for the better.

warnings: swearing, just a blurb of scaramouche's lore (if you could even say that it's lore), me and my love for the only one bed trope, reverse comfort at the end i think, a lot of unnecessary scenes but probably still important to the plot

a/n: sorry for the late update... i keep procrastinating on this chapter lmao. this is pretty long since i'm posting once a week now, like around 4.5k words of complete garbage, but whatever, just think of this as a filler chapter i guess. happy reading!

grammatical errors may occur so please let me know if i've made any mistakes!

“you have got to be kidding me.”

“i'm sorry, there's really only one room left that is available, all of the other rooms are fully occupied by the students of snezhnaya university.”

scaramouche scoffed. “we are students of snezhnaya university.”

the hotel receptionist stopped typing on the keyboard and looked at him confusedly. “oh... you guys are um, students?” the woman scratched her head in confusion. “i had a thought that you two were in your late 20's... seems like i was wrong.”

she wasn't wrong. at all.

“are there seriously no rooms left except for that one?” you asked frustratingly, cutting off the previous subject.

the receptionist sighed. “i'm sure of it, though, i'd be more than happy to inform you if there were any changes.” she averted her gaze back to the computer screen.

“...fine. we'll take the room.” scaramouche said shortly after, making you quickly snap your head to him.

“you cannot be serious right now. no way in hell am i gonna share a room with you!” you whisper-shouted, tugging his shirt slightly.

the ravenette rolled his eyes. “it won't be that bad.”

the young woman gave the key card to scaramouche, and he mumbled out a thanks before heading for the elevator, along with his bag. you grumbled out a few curse words, but reluctantly followed suit.

oh it was that bad.

“everyone's fucking with me today.” was all you said at the moment as you and scaramouche stood in the entrance of the hotel room, baffled at what you're witnessing right now.

one. stupid. bed.

things were already going bad when you two were held off from arriving to the hotel early because scaramouche got a flat tire on the way here. you never expected to actually share a bed with the guy you've always hated, multiple times at that, but here you were, once again.

scaramouche groaned, bringing up a hand to rub his face in annoyance. “i can't believe this is happening.”

“you're taking the floor.” you flatly announced, brushing past him to land yourself on the only bed in the room.

the ravenette stopped from his actions to glare at you. “w— why do i have to sleep on the floor?! i drove us here! what did you even contribute to this trip for you to get the bed?!” he argued, stomping to you.

“simple. i exist. i think that's enough contribution, to teyvat even.” you simpy replied, relishing in the comfort of the soft sheets.

“you–!” scaramouche tried arguing further, but no words fell out of his mouth. he only sighed as he walked off and started unpacking his stuff.

you stared at the ceiling. “you know, we can share the bed if you want.”

“and why should i do that?” he asked, stopping from his actions to look over at you.

you fixated your eyes on his indigo ones in return. “well, the bed's pretty big, and we can make a barrier like last time, it kinda worked.” you explained from your lying position on the bed.

scaramouche widened his eyes the moment you mentioned about the pillow barrier. the stupid makeshift barrier that absolutely did not work last week. you only think it worked because you were too busy sleeping like a log to even realize you were tangled up with the ravenette in bed, instead of the makeshift barrier separating you two.

he averted his eyes from you, focusing back on unpacking. “no thank you.”

“guess you're on the floor then.”

“sure, whatever.”

he'd rather sleep on the most uncomfortable place than to even have the same events possibly repeating again.

and he's afraid you might wake up this time.

you groaned for the hundredth time.

“why the hell is he not picking up...” you stared at your phone screen as your friend, once again, left you on voicemail.

childe hasn't been in contact with you for over two weeks now. ever since the trial, you've never heard of childe updating you on any upcoming leads. if anything, childe was always the one who'd share the details to you first before anyone else, yet things left you dumbfounded as he never returns your calls now.

you've asked your other colleagues about it, well, signora to be specific. she only told you that childe's been going through a rough patch lately and that you should leave him be for some time, though he's still always present at the precint, which makes you even more clueless.

i'll try again later, you thought to yourself. he's fine, i'm sure he is.

“you wanna check out the hotel before it gets crowded?” scaramouche asked out of the blue, making you fixate your eyes on him from the bed.

you pondered on it for a moment before answering. “yeah, sure, who knows we might get new leads.”

standing up, you sauntered over with your phone in hand, scaramouche already waiting for you by the opened door.

“do you know what room yun jin and viktor are in?” he asked, holding the door for you.

“not sure, i haven't really asked her about it.” you said, eyeing the number on the door of your hotel room, 515, it read. “viktor's been kind of acting strange lately, so i don't really want to bother him.”

scaramouche hummed, taking the key card with him before closing the door. “what do you mean by that?” he asked, walking with you to the lift lobby.

“by what? viktor?”

“obviously i'm talking about him.”

you and scaramouche halted to a stop in the lobby.

“he's kind of been ignoring me for the past week, have no idea why.” you paused, pushing the down button beside the elevator. “i asked yun jin about it, but she told me it was normal of him to be like that sometimes, which is pretty weird.” you said, focusing your eyes on the number at the top of the elevator that's slowly coming to your floor.

the male beside you raised a brow. “you haven't confronted him about it?”

“of course i have, silly. um, tried at least. he's been avoiding me all the time, doesn't even sit with me in class now.”

the chiming sound of a ding can be heard, and the elevator door slowly opens.

“you don't even see him out of class?”

“see who?”

both you and scaramouche snapped your heads to the familiar voice. viktor and yun jin were in the elevator together, hands interlaced.

calling what you were witnessing right now weird would be an understatement. for the past few days, viktor has done nothing but avoid and ignore yun jin, yet here he was acting normal again, with his hand in hers. the tall man even had the slight audacity to speak up those two words in front of you, the other person he's been avoiding all week.

“oh, it's luna and ivan! where are you guys headed to?” yun jin beamed, walking out the elevator with viktor trailing behind.

you rubbed the nape of your neck, not expecting for them to appear right in front of you. “um, we were just gonna go to the car and get some stuff that we didn't manage to bring along.” you lied. “are you guys on this floor?”

yun jin smiled and nodded. “yup, room 516!”

“516?” scaramouche inquired. that's just right beside yours.

“yeah, it was one of the only rooms left, glad that we even managed to get one considering that we were kind of late.” yun jin said awkwardly, fidgeting her clothes.

you tugged scaramouche's sleeve lightly, making him look at you. the ravenette raised his brow, and you gestured your eyes to the elevator, a signal that you two should get going.

scaramouche nodded at you, looking back at the couple in front of him. “we really need to go, luna left her plush and didn't want it to be left alone in the car for far too long.” he made up an excuse, a dumb one at that, making you glare at him.

“a plushie? that's cute.” viktor said, chuckling along with yun jin.

you faked a smile, gritting your teeth. “well, ivan, we should go, now.” you said furiously, grabbing scaramouche's arm to drag him to the elevator.

“see you two soon!” yun jin grinned, waving at you two until the elevator doors closed.

letting out a scoff, you folded your arms and sent a death glare to scaramouche, in which he paid no mind to. “seriously? a plushie? i'm not a child.”

“it's fun seeing you get all embarrassed, sort of like entertainment for me.” the ravenette said, slightly smirking at the thought.

“it's not funny.”

“it– it kinda is.”

scaramouche was laughing now, much to your dismay. you tried suppressing the urge to not join him on this, but failed miserably when the male beside you snorted, completely falling into a fit of giggles at his actions.

“oh come on! you need to stop putting me in embarrassing situations!” you said while giggling, slapping his arm playfully while doing so.

“or what?” he teased, finally looking at you and leaning closer.

you stared into his indigo eyes in return. “well, i'll...” the words you intended to say died down momentarily as you both look into each others eyes, seemingly like time has stopped.

the distance between you two was long abandoned, face just inches away from each other. looking at scaramouche's flawless face in awe, your breath hitched just for a moment.

you can't remember the last time you were this close to scaramouche. was it when you were sick? was it the time when you both hid in a closet to not get caught? or was it during trial day when you fixed up scaramouche's tie? you really can't tell.

looks like this just adds to the many list of times you've ever been this close with the man you hated the most.

the elevator doors suddenly opens and out of instinct, you both jolt in shock and immediately turned away from each other, flustered by what just happened.

a small group of people, snezhnaya uni students you assumed, walked in the elevator, ignoring the way that you and scaramouche were standing awkwardly at the back. you rubbed the jawline of your face nervously and stared at the mirror beside you.

the elevator had mirrors on all sides except for the doors, so you could basically see what everyone is doing at the moment.

and, if you look a little more closely, you could see the faint crimson that's creeping up onto scaramouche's neck and ears, as much as he tries hiding it with his hands.

“i'm not gonna lie, this venue is ginormous.” you said in awe, looking at the huge place that will hold the grad ball. presumably, you had thought that it'd be a bit smaller, but it seems like you were wrong in so many ways.

the venue was almost fully decorated— with lots of round tables, a big space in the middle (for the classic dance, you assumed), and buffet tables were already set up. some bits of other decorations like lightings, drapes, and a disco ball even, were being decorated by the organizers. though still on the works, the ballroom already looked dazzling.

“don't think we're even allowed to go here yet.” scaramouche commented, eyeing the red tape across the ballroom.

“how are we gonna know every corner of the ballroom then?”

the male beside you did not answer, making you glance at him. he had his signature smirk, and a very knowing look that only you could ever read.

“no, you're joking.”

his smirk only grew bigger at your sentence, and at this point, you might think he was smiling like an idiot instead.

and that's how you two ended up decorating the ballroom, disguised as the many other workers in the area.

“how the hell are you so sure we won't get caught?”

scaramouche looked at you, stopping himself from decorating the round table. he tilted his head to a direction, as if gesturing for you to look over at what he's pointing at. “see that dude?”

averting your gaze to a male a few feet away from you two, you nodded. “yeah, why?” you asked, looking at him warily. the man was sitting on one of the chairs, legs propped up on the table while he scrolled on his phone lazily.

“that's the head organizer.”

“why is he just... lazing around? shouldn't he be the one going back and forth to make everything look as perfect as possible?”

scaramouche hummed. “exactly. seeing how stupid that guy is, he probably couldn't care less if there were people sneaking around as 'workers', much less if there were more additional workers, probably makes him more at ease.”

“do you think we could sneak around and possibly get the files for the plans of the event?”

“what?”

“he looks kind of clumsy to be honest.” you said, and as if to prove your sentence, the man suddenly fell to his butt on the floor, and quickly regained his composure to sit back on the chair embarrassingly. “it's gonna be easy getting those files, i assume.”

scaramouche shrugged, continuing on fixing up the round table to avoid suspicions. “sure, we'll try later.”

and again, that's how you two ended up sneaking in the back of the ballroom, where you assumed the organisation's office is.

“isn't this kind of silly?”

“what is?” scaramouche asked, walking along the halls, careful not to make much noise.

“sneaking around, kind of feels like we're kids trying to avoid getting caught stealing cookies by our parents.”

the ravenette snorted. “that's a very specific description.” he said, scanning his eyes at a closed door of a room, reading the text on it to see if it was the office you two were looking for.

“isn't that basically what being a detective is? sneaking around to get evidence, secretly go on many undercover duties and disappear to months end?”

you looked at him. “well, yeah, but it's pretty funny if you think about it. two grown adults, sneaking around people, going all out just to get some promising leads, it really just reminds me of my childhood days. isn't it the same for you?”

scaramouche was surprisingly silent upon hearing your question, not even taking his eyes off the door he was inspecting just now. you looked at him, puzzled, and nudged his shoulder.

“dude, you okay?”

it took a moment for scaramouche to finally move. “i'm fine.” he mumbled, already heading off to the next location, leaving you behind.

you stared at his figure, confused as to why he's suddenly changed his demeanor and did a whole 180. did you say something that bugged him?

“found it.” scaramouche said, pointing at a closed room ahead of you. he looked at you across the hall, one hand shoved in the pocket of his pants.

you smiled and nodded in acknowledgement, walking over to him.

you've already reminded yourself to ask him about it later on. for now though, you'll have to focus on your plan.

“for a klutzy guy, he sure is pretty organised with the files.” you said, flipping through the files in one of the steel cabinets.

you two have been in the room for about ten minutes now, and much to your displease, you have yet to find the file you were looking for.

scaramouche rummaged through the files on the desk, letting out another curse when the files on there were pretty much useless.

“i don't think we'll find anything here.”

“this is stupid, we should just head back.” scaramouche muttered, heading over to the door. he stopped abruptly when he heard footsteps from outside, quickly turning around to face you. “someone's coming.”

you widened your eyes, and frantically searched for a place to hide. the room wasn't that big, with only a small number of cabinets filled with files, so there were technically zero spots to hide.

out of nowhere, scaramouche took your hand in his and dragged you under an old desk at the corner of the room, secluded from the open space. if someone were to stumble inside the office, they won't be able to notice the two of you hiding under the old desk, lest they went further in the room, in which you silently prayed it won't be the latter.

it's pretty tight space, but it was still able to fit in the two of you, even though you were squished up with scaramouche. you looked at the ravenette, but he avoided your gaze, opting to look out on the person coming inside instead.

the door opened, and a voice popped up. “is the ball really going to go smoothly, boss? i feel like we're still missing a few things for the event.”

“don't worry, everything's perfectly fine. it's not like we haven't done this a hundred of times before, and who cares if we miss out on a few stuff? it's not gonna affect the event.” another voice said, footsteps walking in the room.

the other cleared their throat. “what about that spotlight? i heard there were a few screws loose, and the workers didn't manage to find them.”

the sound of a file being landed harshly on the desk echoed throughout the room. “who the hell cares?! we already don't get paid enough for this shit, i couldn't care less about some stupid screws being loose or a backdrop being slightly off, as long as you get the job done we are out of the responsibility.”

“hurry up and go home, i don't want to be here any longer.”

soon after, the footsteps slowly fade out, and the door closed once more.

you let out a breath of relief the second they left, and looked at scaramouche again. he still had his eyes on the door, not even budging to move from the uncomfortable space.

“scara?”

“hm?”

“they're gone. we can go now.”

scaramouche finally looked at you after what felt like decades. “oh.”

getting out from under the old desk, you stretched out your limbs, the ravenette awkwardly followed you after.

“don't think that file was there before.” he said after a moment of scanning through the room, sauntering over to the desk in the middle of the room. “y/n.”

you glanced at him, bringing down your hands from the stretch you were doing. “what?”

“it's the file we're looking for.”

it was well past 9, you and scaramouche were back in your hotel room sitting on the provided chairs, with your laptop propped up on the small round table showing the pictures you took of the event planning from the file.

“it just looks like any other planning i've seen before.” you said while slurping on the instant noodle cup you made a few minutes ago. given how you and scaramouche were too busy sneaking around the hotel until late evening, you two didn't even manage to get proper dinner by the time you were done.

“there's no use in wasting our time on this if it's useless then.”

you squinted your eyes to look at the planning details better, reading on and on about backdrops, lighting timings, and whatnot. it was all useless, just like what scaramouche had said just now.

letting out a huff, you leaned back on the chair. “let's just wait until tomorrow. we still have time before the grad ball starts.” you glanced at scaramouche. he has been zoning out a lot recently, and it was no doubt that he was doing the exact same thing right now.

“are you tired?” you nudged his shoulder.

scaramouche slowly looked at you, face blank. “huh? why? are you?”

“stop twisting the question around, i'm asking about you.” you pressed, a frown plastered on your face. “you look tired.”

“i'm fine.”

“no you're not.”

now scaramouche was the one frowning instead, glaring at you furiously. “if i say that i'm fine, then i am fine.” he slammed his hands on the table as he stood up, walking away, making you more puzzled than you already were.

sighing, you closed the laptop on the table. guess there's no use in pushing him on the subject, you thought as you continued on finishing your food.

“you sure you don't want to sleep on the bed? there's still plenty of space here.” you asked, looking at him lying on the carpeted floor from the bed you were sitting on. “i feel bad.”

scaramouche had his back to you, so you weren't able to see what expression he was making as of now. “it's fine. hog the bed all you want, i'm not going up there.”

you raised a brow, but didn't question any further. “okay, just tell me if you wanna get up here. i don't mind sharing.”

the ravenette only replied with a hum as you got under the covers, getting ready to finally sleep after a long day of sneaking around.

except that you couldn't sleep at all.

it's around midnight— you think. it had been a few hours since you got into bed, but you haven't even managed to get a wink of sleep. scaramouche was sound asleep now, his soft snores can be heard if you listen close enough.

groaning, you turned to the other side of the bed in hopes of the new sleeping position helping you enter dreamland faster, but to no avail. you groaned in frustration once more.

“you should really stop doing that.” scaramouche said from the floor, voice husky from just waking up.

you propped yourself up with your elbow, and turned to look at scaramouche. “'m sorry, did i wake you?”

scaramouche slowly sat up, raking a hand through his bed hair. “it's fine.” he said, rubbing his eyes. “why're you still awake?”

“couldn't sleep.” you mumbled through the dark room, laying back on the bed as you stared at the ceiling. “been like that for the last couple of weeks.”

the ravenette raised his brow, but it went unnoticed by you. hearing the sound of rustling, you turned your head to the side, just to see that scaramouche had placed his pillow on the bed.

he sat at the edge of the bed, looking at you. “you okay?”

you scoffed. how ironic, you thought. he was the one who's been odd the whole day, yet he was asking you if you were okay, when he should be asking himself that.

“i could ask you the same question.”

at that, scaramouche fell silent. you turned your head back to continue on staring at the ceiling, again, in hopes that it'd bore you out to the point that you're asleep. unfortunately, the archons above really, really hates you.

you heard the sound of rustling sheets once again, and you turned to look at scaramouche, who was now suddenly under the covers, his back to you. “thought you said you didn't want to be up here.”

“you look like you needed company.”

you looked at him confusedly. at the lack of an answer from you, scaramouche huffed and turned to you. it was dark, you could barely make up most of the view in the room, but it was still enough to see the male beside you up close.

“i can sleep just well without you here.”

“sure you can.”

“wh– of course i can!”

scaramouche only shrugged, continuing on staring at you with a fond expression on his face. “what's on your mind?”

“...what d'ya mean?”

rolling his eyes, he brought up a finger to poke at your temple a couple of times, as if to further prove his question. “what's stopping this mind from resting?”

“ugh, stop that.” you swatted his hand away, though not harsh enough like you always do. “was just thinking about you.” you blurted out, making the ravenette widened his eyes.

scaramouche barely believes in the archons, yet he fervently thanks celestial above for the dark room, for you wouldn't get to see how red he's getting from just a single sentence.

eyes wide, you quickly fumbled for an excuse. “n–not in that way! i was just thinking about how you were kind of quiet the whole evening.” you said awkwardly, fidgeting the hem of your shirt. “did i say or do anything?”

“...no, you didn't do anything.”

“then why have you been acting weird today?”

scaramouche looked away from you, sighing. “it's just... when you mentioned about childhood, it just reminded me of mine.” he muttered.

from the years you've known scaramouche, he has never, ever, talked about his family background. you never questioned why, afraid that you were crossing boundaries. now that he's willing to even mention about it, you were shocked to say the least, but stayed quiet nonetheless.

“i didn't respond to your question because i... never experienced any of those stuff.” he paused, glancing at you. “my mother, she, abandoned me when i was little.”

“oh archons, i'm really sorry. i shouldn't have asked that.” you said, scratching your head.

“it's fine. it's been decades now, i rarely care that much anymore.” he let out a breath of a chuckle, somehow amused. “it just hit home when you talked about childhood.”

you stared at him for a long while, and he did the same to you. sighing, you went closer to him and pulled him into an embrace, leaving the ravenette in complete shock.

“you're a strong guy, i'm sorry all those shit happened to you.” you mumbled, wrapping your arms tightly around his middle. scaramouche hovered his hand over your hip for a moment, before reluctantly wrapping an arm around your waist, relishing in the comfort you're willingly giving him.

scaramouche is anything but strong. he had always thought that he was the most weakest among all, yet you make it seem like he was far from fragile, which is ironic, truly. you've always made him feel like a different person, you always never fail to make him feel alive, make him feel like his emotions matter, make him feel important.

it was one of your greatest qualities. you always bring out the best out of someone, and never ask for anything in return. you've made him feel things he never even thought he had, and you've made him feel like he was a perfect human being, despite the many flaws and imperfections of his.

for the last couple of months, your efforts for him only grew bigger. in spite of you two not being able to stand each other, you never stopped making him feel like human. and for the past few weeks, his views of you have changed very differently.

he never thought of himself being in love, just the thought of those four letters make him gag. but with you, he thinks, anything is possible. and after many sleepless nights of being in thought, he has now come to terms at this moment that maybe, just maybe, he has the slightest feelings for you.

it's not something he'd ever tell you of course, and he has never planned on doing so in the future, afraid that he might ruin what you two currently have. he has come a long way with you, from not able to stand being in the same room together, all the way to you being in his arms right now. he does not think it's worth the risk of ruining whatever the hell you two are at the moment.

he sighed after what felt like forever, and hugged you more tightly. “thank you, y/n.”

no response.

he looked down, just to see that you were sound asleep, in his arms. he smiled fondly after a few seconds, brushing your hair just a bit. you looked so peaceful right now, and he slightly missed this view of you.

he wishes he could see you like this every day, every morning, and every single night, but then again, he does not feel like you'd reciprocate his feelings anyways.

he sighed again, bringing you more closer than before.

looks like you do need company to sleep better.

forelsket. from: norwegian. means: that overwhelming gut-rush euphoria exclusive to the beginnings of falling in love. (please correct me if i'm wrong lmao i got this from google)

taglist; @beriiov @hopesandlegacy @cloudsandrenoswife @salamiwrites @thenightsflower @bleedingwhiteroses222 @lisiastak021 @yuuki4646 @lez-zuha @ryhie @sleepy-waffle @yoursockstinks @shizunxie @moonxma @kunikuzushiit @anonwhocried @vqqrii @luminesuprrmacy @calxb-do @sixscara @xooya @mobiussdarling @mafukissu @antri13

(unfortunately i am unable to tag those that are in bold, i'm sorry!)

want to be added to the taglist?

#h✧˖—mission accomplished #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x you #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact reader insert #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche fluff #LOLLL I HATE WRITING THIS CHAPTER SO MUCH YOU DONT UNDERSTAND #kunikuzushi x reader

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shotorozu · 4 years ago

Text

encountering a ‘pick me’ girl

character(s) : kirishima eijirou, todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki (bnha)

warning : PICK ME GIRL, misogyny (?) pick me girl makes an off handed comment about your body but it’s not detailed at all

PART TWO — PART THREE

legend : [Y/N = your name] afab! reader, but they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

headcanon type : fluff, angst if you squint

note(s) : i made 2 versions of this post so,, if you’re reading this— then i probably decided that i liked this one more than the other one i made,, anyways, i used real life examples 💀

»»————-　♡　————-««

kirishima eijirou

i’d imagine that eijirou would have an idea of what a pick me girl is— i mean, there were probably 2 of those girls in middle school

but has he experienced it first hand? nahh.

though, eijirou didn’t think he’d encounter one when he was already in a healthy and committed relationship!

eijirou is practically friends with everyone— and yeah, even the most unexpected. so, he’s bound to accidentally befriend a pick me girl

him, being the nicest one out of all of the characters in this list, will still be nice to said pick me girl, despite wanting to snob them to the core

because really— you can’t really fight fire with fire in some cases

but, he can be everything but lenient when the pick me girl starts insulting you for doing certain things, and for absurd reasons too

like,, how you laugh, and how you take care of yourself (for example— if you wear makeup, or how you style your hair)

which is odd! everything about you is everything but the things the pick me girl has stated so.. he cannot stand by.

SCENARIO

the girl giggles to herself after that snide comment leaves her lip gloss coated lips. eijirou shifts uncomfortably— honestly taken aback by the anything but subtle insult that was thrown at you

“like.. seriously! it’s honestly quite superficial if you look at it like that. who the hell would put that much effort infront of your boyfriend? i’d assume they’d see everything AND everything but.. i guess not.”

you blink. superficial? now that’s a new one. the girl infront of you has been babbling insults sugarcoated in boasts the entire time, and you’re just wondering if it’s about time you guys leave but—

“well that’s unfair,” your boyfriend laughs, “i put the same amount of effort as this cutie right here,” eijirou pokes at your cheek, earning a quick laugh from you— which he can only thank the heavens for that

“but that’s different. it actually looks put together when you’re doing it, eiji.” the certain glint in her smile makes you want to wipe it right off with a dirty mop, “it’s impossible to look put together with expensive clothes, but being built like a—”

the sound of the sliding of a chair is quicker than your actions, and it easily cuts her off.

“i’m sorry, but we gotta go, it’s totally not cool of you to say those things about Y/N!”

“what? but i mean.. it’s true, right? i’m looking out for them! they’re literally out here l—”

“bye!” eijirou waves her goodbye with your hand, dismissing the sour expression on her face— as he dashes off with you

you’d question how he’s just so nice to people like that, but when he turns around, you could see the distaste in his eyes

“so that’s what a pick me girl’s like,” shaking his head, his expression lights up with such a quick manner “i’ll never make friends that are like that again!”

safe to say, eijirou’s friend list has been a a person shorter ever since that incident

bakugou katsuki

oh, so that girl’s bold bold.

if she thinks she could get away with being a not so subtle pick me girl infront of bakugou katsuki, then she couldn’t be more wrong.

it’s absolutely revolting— i mean, he hasn’t displayed any romantic feelings towards ANYONE that isn’t you.

also, they’re quite gutsy if you ask me. so congrats for having guts??

i don’t think he’d be friends with a pick me girl. he’s very selective of who he’s befriending, so it’s probably your friend that’s the pick me girl in this case

he wouldn’t know what a pick me girl would be, but he’d probably know the description of one.

over some time, he’d grow some resistance to insults directed at him, but when someone insults his s/o

oh boy. that’s not good. remember when i said that katsuki was almost like your scary and intimidating dog

this is what i mean

knows he can’t make a scene, so his first option is to be dismissive asf— but if said pick me girl literally can’t get it, he won’t be afraid of shoving some explosions into her face

because his hands are rated e for everyone

SCENARIO

“so you wanna be picked or something, is that it?” he hates how you literally have the resistance of a rock— which is something he always liked, but in this case hated. if it weren’t for you— he would’ve blasted explosions into her sorry excuse of a face until it’s beyond recognition (that wouldn’t be hero like, is what you’ve said in the past, but he disagrees.)

but seriously? ugh. he just wants to leave this horrid place, and make some dinner with you in the comfort of his home. why are you even friends with her anyway? she’s not even trying to be slick at this point.

“p-picked? i’m not understanding, katsu.”

“it’s bakugou.”

“right,” her laughter is like nails on chalkboard, “i’m just watching out for Y/N, y’know? there’s no point in wearing all of that.. on their face.” and she’s obviously referring to your obviously very well done makeup

“it’ll make your skin terrible in the long run! and really— i couldn’t really understand on why someone would wear that much, when you could survive with i dunno.. lip gloss at most?”

you would’ve actually said something as a rebuttal, but your boyfriend is quicker, and a lot more direct than anyone else in the area.

“just say you can’t do makeup and fucking scram,” katsuki’s ice cold glare finally breaks out of the act he’s been trying to hold together for you

“their makeup is fucking bomb as hell, compared to your ridiculous spider lashes, lady. come back when you’ve watched james charles’ entire fucking channel.” he harshly states in similar bakugou fashion, despite the lack of screaming.

and if you squinted hard enough, you could see tears welling up in her eyes. but katsuki tugs your hand before anything else could be said

“let’s fucking go, you need better friends.”

he makes you cut ties with all of them, and he practically scolds your terrible choice of friends— but he goes quiet when you tell him that you’ve been friends with her since middle school

“good fucking riddance. next time, i’ll punch them as soon as they say something outta line, got that?” and next time (hopefully, there won’t be a next time) you’ll actually lash out— or maybe,, you’ll let him loose for once.

todoroki shouto

now shouto might be,, socially unaware sometimes. but he can tell whenever someone’s trying to insult his s/o

like,, right away.

now— you both run into this person after a pleasant date, and she eagerly presented herself as your friend

so, her attitude catches him off guard because who’d have anything rude to say about you and towards shouto’s face? especially when it’s about something normal.

like,, wasn’t she your friend?? why is she even like this?

his hostility is very well known, so they should be scared.

he gets detached from the conversation, and he’ll immediately go cold— and shouto would probably go as far as walking away with your hand in his

doesn’t matter if he properly says goodbye or not— if a girl’s being rude to his s/o, they obviously don’t deserve his usually polite attitude. nope, that’s a luxury.

oh— and what more when they’re seeking for his validation. newsflash! said pick me girl won’t be get any from him.

SCENARIO

shouto couldn’t stop the bitterness bleeding into his mouth, when the girl in front of him continued to babble and take up the valuable time he had left with his s/o

initially, she presented herself as your friend from middle school— but as of now? she seems to be more interested in him more than you, despite knowing you first.

she’d ask him a string of obvious questions with very obvious answers, like ‘is she treating you well?’ ‘is she acting correctly?’ and questions of the sort

“oh, sorry! i’d hate to cut this conversation short, but—” you finally decide that it was about time to leave, while shouto looks pretty,, deadpanned right now, you could tell that he was gradually starting to get irritated by your friend’s words.

“wait. thats.. kind of controlling, don’t you think? do you ever let shou make decisions?”

“uh.. controlling? since when??” you question at the accusation. this girl knows nothing about your relationship dynamic, and she’s already jumping the gun and making conclusions.

your gaze snaps back to shouto, who looks just as surprised as he could possibly be.

“yeah! it clearly looks like he still wants to talk” which is an obvious lie, shouto just wants it out of here “i wonder how you managed to snag such a guy like him,” she comments with a smile that looked anything above suspicion (yet, it makes your stomach churn)

you could see the way her hand gets gradually closer to him— and frankly, you’re not sure about what she was planning to do next, “you wouldn’t need to dress all expensive and fancy, if you’re with a girl with an already classy appear—”

“i think this conversation is over,” shouto grip is firm on the wrist that was attempting to grab his shoulder, shouto makes no attempt to even look at the girl infront of him “i don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it’s not humorous. at all.”

“what?” she stammers, drawing her hand back “i-it’s obvious they don’t know how to take a joke! this is why there are barely any good w—”

shouto’s next actions knocks her speechless, his hand rests at the small of your back, before gently guiding you forward— “love, what movie are we watching later?” he says, making an effort to press a quick, yet intense kiss on your lips

“oh,” you breathe out, surprised by this action. “don’t be so tense, love.” shouto comments on how tense your shoulders have looked, ever since she started running her mouth, “now.. what movie do you want to watch tonight? comedy? thriller?”

“you pick,” you laugh at the quick shift of topic. and when you look behind you, you could see shame and defeat welling up on her face. shouto finally feels like he could smile again, the bitterness dissipating from his mouth

after shouto questions you if that was what a pick me girl was, he makes sure that you guys won’t ever encounter such thing again

“you.. don’t have more friends like that, right? if you do— we could always do another friend list cleansing.” this statement makes you laugh but shouto is anything but joking

but being reminded of his reaction to that ‘pick me’ girl does puts a smile on your face.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

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primofate · 4 years ago

Text

Genshin [Volleyball Team AU - Inspired by Haikyuu!] What it’s like to be their manager Headcanons

Note: I think a lot of people misunderstand the role of the manager XD It’s not that the whole team is dating you. It’s that the whole team treats you like their family/sister. So you’d better bet that all of them are gunna be hella protective of you XD

Scenario: What do you do for the team and what do they do for you? :D

Warnings: not proofread, fluffy, might have some swear words, platonic relationships

Characters: Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Tartaglia, Kazuha, Xiao, Tohma, reader as the team manager

Other works in the Volleyball Team AU Series: Click Here

Genshin Volleyball Team manager

It’s just fuckin’ chaos

On your first day you’re already bombarded with questions by Tartaglia and Kaeya

“So which class are you?” “What’s your height?” “Are you single?”

Captain Zhongli just cannot be bothered to reign them in anymore.

So Vice Captain Diluc does it and grabs their collars. “You idiots, you’re scaring her off!”

Possibly Kazuha and Tohma are the ones you really try to rely on, on your first few weeks.

So how do you gain the trust of your team? Let’s start with each player shall we?

#1 Zhongli (Captain/Wing Spiker/Ace)

Zhongli is just handsome and mature. He’s strict and needs to be the pillar of the team.

You’re intimidated by him the first few weeks and he just seems...a little far. He’s always so focused that you can’t seem to catch a moment to just chat with him.

There’s a day where you notice that his form is a little off, you suspect that he hurt his wrist a little.

You fidget uncomfortably in the gym as they practice, but finally turn to the coach “U-Umm... The captain is... I mean! I’m not sure, but... I think he needs to take a rest,”

The coach calls for someone to substitute Zhongli and suddenly asks you to check on him.

“Huh?! Me?!” the coach pushes you towards him, and Zhongli is just looking at you quizzically, you can practically see the question mark on his face.

“C-Captain, d-do you need some bandages on your wrist?”

Zhongli is taken aback, but silently puts his right wrist out for you to wrap.

Only when you’re done tending to it does he look you in the eye and ask.

“How did you know?”

“...Because I always watch, and all I can do is watch. If I can’t even spot that out then I’m not a very good manager am I?”

Zhongli has a newfound respect for you. He thought you were just a meek and shy thing sitting around and passing them balls but he feels his heart swell that someone like you is seriously watching over them.

#2 Diluc (Vice Captain/Wing Spiker/Defense Specialist)

Diluc is probably the second hardest to get along with or break the ice with.

But he gradually warms up to you when he notices that he’s always the first one you pass a towel and water bottle to.

You’re not doing that on purpose, it’s just him who always comes up first.

After a few days he deliberately goes to you faster cause he always wants to be the one to receive a water bottle and towel from you first. Secretly a puppy.

The moment he realized that you were reliable was when you stayed behind to help him practice when everyone else went home already.

You didn’t let up in your constant praise of “nice receive”, “great spike!” and “that’s so cool!”

He thinks he saw stars in your eyes at some point.

“Hey, Diluc, it’s getting late, let’s leave some energy for tomorrow, yeah?” he could tell from your mannerisms that you were tired too, but you tried not to let it show on your face and still cleaned up with him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then!” you wave but you’re stopped by a quick. “No,” from him. You tilt your head in wonder and he just looks at you as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“It’s late, I’ll walk you home,”

#3 Kaeya (Middle Blocker)

You don’t have to impress this guy, anyone of the female gender impresses him.

lol jk

safe to say it’s not difficult to befriend Kaeya, just bring him a cheering squad and some food.

all jokes aside the way to this guy’s heart is through his stomach.

He’s not a particularly hungry person but there’s this one time he forgot to bring lunch. He was running late, or something of that sort, honestly not something new for him.

He ALSO didn’t bring money so he couldn’t eat food from the cafeteria.

Ask his friends for money you say? Tartaglia would go, “Haha no way!” Albedo would go, “Let this be a lesson for you,” his brother would go “Serves you right,”

By club time he’s famished and dramatic. “Guys, go on without me, this is as far as I go,” as he sprawls on the gym floor.

You ask if he’s okay and he doesn’t answer so Diluc is the one that answers for him. “He forgot his lunch, as always,”

You make a sound of understanding and the next thing you know you’re taking out a lunch box and Kaeya has lifted his head up, sensing food.

“I packed onigiri for everyone today, actually... In case someone was hungry. It’s not much but--”

Kaeya comes alive from the dead and clutches your hands to his chest. “Manager you really are an angel,”

Diluc jump kicks him away from you.

#4 Albedo (Setter)

You also don’t know how to approach this guy

He always looks mad or stoic or something. Like he’s always thinking about something.

He low key actually is always thinking about play strategies and how to set the ball better for his teammates.

You really do think he works so hard while the game is going on, so you decide to help him out a little bit.

You watch a few more of their games and somehow come up with a list of what kinds of sets are better for each different spiker in the team.

There’s surprise in his eyes when you pass the document to him and modestly exclaim “...but, it might not be accurate, since I’m not that experienced,”

He still nods and says “...It’s the thought that counts,”

When he does read your report and try the techniques out he notices that it does hold some merit in it

Is amazed like how Zhongli is amazed. He thought you were just there to hand them bottles and cheer for them but he had never been so wrong as to what a manager’s role is.

Will trust you enough to ask you about his set performance.

Will sometimes slam Kaeya with an insult. “Kaeya, your spike sense is horrid, Y/N can read the moves better than you,”

#5 Tartaglia (Middle Blocker/Wing Spiker)

It’s not that he has a hard time trusting people but let’s just say he has the tendency to make you feel like he likes you but then he actually does that to everyone.

For example: He’ll throw compliments like “Oh that’s amazing Y/N!” but then back in the classroom you’ll hear him say “Oh that’s amazing!” to, like, every other person.

That kinda disappoints you cause then the comment doesn’t really hold that much meaning to it if he keeps on saying it to others too.

He encounters a crisis mid year because this guy is just... he struggles with his grades.

Captain Zhongli has told him he can’t play volleyball if he fails even one subject.

This boy is panicking and has semi-accepted this is the end of his volleyball career.

So you offer to study with him and he’s legit stoked.

Intensive and strict study sessions commence. Note taking, pop quizzes, surprise questions and even sudden random calls from you wherein you ask him a question and he has to answer within 5 seconds.

You’ve pulled all the study techniques you know here, this man better pass everything.

Welp, he still fails History....but since he worked so hard Captain Zhongli excuses it.

He’s so happy that he can’t hold back the stupidly wide smile on his face. He turns to you and for the very very first time in months, he bows and THANKS you.

You realize that he’s never thanked you before. Not even when you pass him water bottles or towels.

You consider it a win, getting rare and sincere appreciation from him.

#6 Kazuha (Decoy/Middle Blocker/Wing Spiker)

One of the easiest to get along with but at the same time, he’s so mature that you feel like you’re not even in the same age range as him.

Definitely someone you can count on though, so you ask him many questions on the first week.

Still, it’s one of those things where you can kind of talk to him but there’s still a wall between you two.

One day while walking around in school there were these boys who were commenting about his height, and questioning his abilities as a volleyball team member.

You didn’t really think much about it when you speak up, “But he’s a really good middle blocker and spiker,”

Those boys look at you weirdly and you realize that you’ve unconsciously spoken up. So you hurriedly walk away.

Little did you know that Kazuha was in some secret corner and heard the whole thing.

Just like that, the next day, it seems as if the wall between you two was gone, and you’re able to talk freely.

That, and he seemed to like asking you to help him practice his spikes and throw balls for him now.

#7 Xiao (Libero)

is deceivingly easy to get along with. Just has a rough exterior but is actually a softie if you squint.

You know this because there are subtle things he does.

He doesn’t speak to you much but then he would be the one picking up the balls with you, or sometimes there’s magically a new set of clean towels on the bench that you don’t remember taking out from the storage room.

This guy is passionate for the game, so he really beats himself up when he isn’t able to receive a ball during actual games.

You worry about his mentality sometimes. I mean, it’s a team game, it’s not like he alone can save the whole game

So you talk to him about it the other day

“You’re already a really good libero Xiao, I mean... I’m not saying you should stop practicing but you don’t have to feel so bad...” you pause because this doesn’t feel like the message you want to convey

“Sorry, what I mean is... You CAN feel bad, but share the burden with your team, you know?”

He knows what you’re saying and contemplates it for a while. He knows that his team has his back, but sometimes just needs reminder about it.

He looks at you and asks, “...Can I share the burden with you too?”

You blink “Huh?”

“You said I can share the burden with my team, but can I share it with you too?”

There is a blush on his cheeks at this point.

“Oh, yea! Of course! I don’t play but I’m still part of the team you know!”

Ever since then, during games, if he feels a little frustrated he’d glance at you on the bench and you’d give him a thumbs up for a job well done.

#8 Tohma (Pinch Server/Middle Blocker)

You’re like bffs the moment you see each other

lol jk

You’re still awkward with him the first few days cause that’s just how first meetings are.

But he is very easy to talk to and always makes you feel at ease

Will always be the one to ask how you are if you need any help or if class was okay in general

Seems like the type of person to care more about others than himself

So he’s surprised when you come into the gym and you beat him to asking his usual questions.

“Tohma, how are you today? Did you have a proper lunch?”

“Tohma, are you getting tired? Want some water?”

“Tohma, how was class today?”

All the other members of the team turn to look at the two of you, thinking ‘Why does Tohma get extra attention?’

Tohma certainly doesn’t get extra attention you just TALK to him more. The other members deadass are also getting cared for by you, just in different ways.

This boy has some insecurities though, when it comes to playing the game. He hasn’t been in it for long so he’s the least experienced and that gets to him sometimes.

“Oh, really? But you play really well! I couldn’t tell that you’re new”

His serves are really amazing though.

“Also! You always score points for us with the serves. Sometimes, your serves are my favourite part of the game!”

Has practiced extra hard so as not to let you down.

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thedreamlessnights · 4 years ago

Text

I've found hope in a heart attack

{chapter one} - {chapter two} - {chapter three} - {chapter four} - {chapter five} - {chapter six}

Viktor x Fem!Reader Modern AU (Eventual NSFW)

Synopsis: You and Viktor have a much needed discussion. It leads you to places you never thought you could go.

Warnings: here we go - general NSFW content, masturbation, teasing, oral (female receiving), the tiniest mention of overstimulation, fingering, protected sex, and a shitload of sexual tension.

A/N: I seriously cannot thank everyone enough for the support on this fic. You guys have been the absolute sweetest to me. I do want to say that this is my first time writing anything like this chapter, so I hope it lives up to expectations. There is one more part after this to come.

Word Count: 6.4k

The first thing you become aware of is Viktor’s hand on your thigh, freezing cold. Then the ringing in your ears fades away, the windshield wipers coming to the top of your hearing.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

Your mouth is dry. You swallow hard, slowly realizing you’re shaking.

“Yeah, I…. I think so,” you manage. “You?”

“I’m fine,” Viktor says, the steadiness of his voice calming you a little. “Though, if you feel able, we should probably pull off the road.”

You look up and realize that you’re sitting in between two lanes. Thankfully, the road is deserted around you.

“Jesus Christ,” you hiss, hesitantly trying out the gas pedal. The car seems to be running okay, smoothly pulling over at your will. You put it in park, trying to recover. Neither of you seems to know what to say.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, tears stinging at your eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Viktor says firmly, giving your thigh a light squeeze. “It could have happened to anyone.”

You want to be home - not the cabin, but your apartment - safely buried under the blankets. Far away from this place. Panic slowly fades to numbness, your breathing going steady.

“We should probably get going,” you say, taking back the wheel. Viktor doesn’t seem to have any objections to that, but he’s also not speaking. He’s probably thinking about the conversation you’d had before you spun. You don’t even know how to get back to that; what on earth to say. Eventually, he drops hold of your leg.

It’s not much longer to get home, but you drive slowly, not eager to repeat your experience. Your entire body seems to be wired, tense - as if all your muscles are being strung together and then yanked, blocky and painful. You can’t wait to get home and take a warm bath. Wash away the fear and the panic, and the awkwardness that now sits between you and Viktor.

The two of you trudge slowly inside, hanging up your coats. Viktor makes his way over to the kitchen, setting his cane down on a chair and leaning against the table, and you start heading to your room before you stop in your tracks, stuck on the things you want to say. Then you turn to look at him.

“You asked if I wanted to come without Jayce,” you start off, slowly exhaling. “I - I wanted to cancel at first, honestly. I was… nervous about spending time with you.”

“Nervous?” Viktor repeats. “Why were you… nervous?”

Taking in a shaky breath, you place a hand on the wall for support. “Sometimes, I wonder if you don’t like me very much, Viktor. If the only reason you spend any time with me is because Jayce wants you to, and he’s your friend, so you do.”

Viktor looks absolutely bewildered at this. “Can I ask why?” His voice sounds strangled.

“When I first met you,” you start slowly, “you treated me differently than you do now. Like it hurt you to be around me.”

As soon as you say that, his expression immediately changes from bewildered to - understanding. Like he knows exactly what you’re talking about. Emboldened by this reaction and still bursting with adrenaline, you continue.

“You didn’t talk to me, Viktor. Only when you had to. Then one day it was like it’d never happened, and I never knew why. I couldn’t understand it. I always wonder if you silently hate me.”

“I -” he starts, then with a shake of his head trails off. “I promise you I do not hate you. I’ve never hated you. But… I’m sorry. You’re right - the way I acted then, I shouldn’t have. I was…” He stops himself like he’s hit a block in his brain, breathing heightened.

You wait a moment before responding. “You were what, Viktor?”

There’s a beat before he responds, exhaling slowly from his nose. “Perhaps,” he says, voice riddled with emotion, “we shouldn’t talk about this now. Neither of us are in our right minds after the ice.”

You won’t accept that. “Tell me what you were going to say,” you plead. “I deserve to know. Please.”

A dam seems to break loose in Viktor’s head. He pinches the bridge of his nose, giving a sigh. “I was jealous,” he finally says, and for a moment, you forget to breathe. “When I first met you, I… I thought you and Jayce were - together. And… I liked you. I was jealous.”

You can’t seem to find air, slowly sinking down onto the couch as he talks.

“I must admit, I’d never experienced this sort of dilemma before,” he continues. “I thought it would be easier if we were distanced, if I wasn’t around you as much, so I… essentially ignored you, when I could. Not that it helped, but it was the only thing - sparing me. When Jayce brought Mel in, I realized I’d been mistaken about you two. That I’d let my own emotions consume me without a full look at the facts.”

Your legs have begun to shake, a leaf in the wind of Viktor’s words. He’s resorted to rubbing his temples as he talks, gaze fixed down on the floor.

“When I finally realized my mistake, I could only hope that I could somehow fix what I’d done. I didn’t want to believe my own reality, so I acted like it had never existed. I couldn’t find it in me to tell you how I felt, believe me, I - I… tried. Eventually, I moved on, hoping you wouldn’t notice. It was an insult to how smart I know you are, but… I didn’t know what else to do.”

He glances over at you, presumably to see how you’re taking this, then leans back, drumming those damned fingers over the table. “As time went on, I thought that perhaps it had been erased, but Jayce had taken notice of my behavior. You were right to think he was pushing us together - that was fully his intent, if I know him half as well as I think I do. I also believe that he’d planned to cancel on us the whole time, just to see the two of us together. You were right. I was tempted to back out when I saw what he’d done, but… I couldn’t resist spending more time with you. I’m very sorry - for everything. You deserve none of this.”

It takes you a moment to gather yourself before you can respond. You have to get up and pace back and forth for a moment, ending up a few feet away from him. “Do you still like me like that?” you choke out.

Viktor’s jaw tightens, not daring to meet your eyes. “I can assure you,” he replies, voice unsteady as he leans forward on his cane, “that it won’t be a problem. You’ll never hear about it again if you don’t want to. But, if you don’t want to work with me anymore, I understand.”

There it is. A reason. You’ve been searching for a truth behind his eyes for so long, desperate for any reciprocation even with no hope, but here sits something you’ve wanted for so long. Something you’ve ached for in long nights, something that’s pained you for ages - and you’re scared. Fear is flooding every single inch of you, driving you insane. There has never been a better time to say what you feel, and it’s never been harder to do.

You inhale quickly, throat tight, your chest heaving. Now or never.

“Viktor,” you start slowly, trying to find the next words. “I’ve liked you like that from the moment I’ve met you. If you really want me, then…”

You look at him for any reassurance, but it seems like he’s frozen, a statuesque state of mind. “Then,” you continue, “I want you, too.”

There’s a beat of silence, sitting thick between the two of you. Like so many times before, your fight or flight kicks in. The moment he steps forward, you’re turning to leave - but he gets there before you, his arm circling around your wrist. You could pull out of his grasp if you wanted to, but you just go still, waiting for him to say something.

You expect his touch to burn you, but the sensation is much softer than that. Instead, it’s relief, a fire slowly warming you from the inside out. When he doesn’t speak, you turn to face him. Just like his touch, his eyes are hot with an intensity you’ve seen so many times before. Anger, excitement, frustration - they all light the same way.

“You feel the same?” he murmurs, so close to him that you can feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek.

“Yes,” you reply, feeling like the air has been sucked out of the room.

Viktor seems to debate something for a moment, his gaze flicking down to your lips. “Please tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, sounding absolutely tortured. You keep quiet, tensing as he puts a hand on your jaw. Then, very slowly, his thumb runs over your lip.

You’re barely able to think anymore - only your want is motivating you, grasping onto his jacket, a hand tangling into the soft strands of his hair. Things you’ve dreamed about for months. “Kiss me,” you whisper, barely believing this is real. How can it be when it’s him, and he’s beautiful, and wants you back?

Instead of obeying your proposal, Viktor tilts his forehead against yours, taking in a shaky breath. “I don’t know how to allow myself the things I’ve wanted for well over a year now,” he says softly.

“Let me help you,” you reply. Then, without a second thought, you tilt your lips into his.

The kiss is slow at first, experimental, like you’re testing the waters, but it doesn’t take long for it to deepen.

As if all the ice you’ve known has cracked and fallen away, every inch of your body seems to be on fire, the heat of Viktor’s touch stoking the flame. He’s holding onto you, one hand cradling your jaw, the other placing itself on your waist. You end up clinging onto his shirt for dear life, which proves to be a mistake when both of you nearly topple over. Instead, you pull him to the wall and lean against it, sighing as his lips trail down your jaw.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” you say. Your brain doesn’t seem to have a filter anymore, melting into his actions like butter.

“I think,” he says, sounding winded as he noses against your neck, “that I have a very good idea, if my feelings are any reference.”

He goes back to what he’s doing after that, ghosting his breath over your throat, feathering kisses along your collarbone, and, very gently, he begins to nip at the skin.

A whimper escapes you, which only seems to encourage him as he trails down lower. He’s just met the area where your dress meets your chest when he suddenly freezes, eventually sighing and resting his forehead on your sternum.

“I don’t… have a condom,” he says. “Do you?”

You could curse yourself right now - how fucking stupid had you been to take out the condom in your suitcase? It’s not like it had taken up too much room!

Sighing, you lower your hands into his hair, scraping your nails against his scalp. “No,” you say, practically panting. “Is the store open?”

“Closes at nine,” Viktor tells you. You glance over at the clock. It’s well past ten.

“Shit,” you say, but you have full intentions to make do without it. In fact, you’re just about to get on your knees when Viktor grabs your arm, keeping you where you are.

“After all I’ve done to you, I must ask you for something else,” he says.

You nose into him, inches away from another kiss. “Anything,” you say, and you mean it.

Viktor hesitates, then sighs. “If I’m to have you, let me… do it in a situation where I can have you fully. Please.”

When you grasp his meaning, you gently release his shirt. Do you tease him?

“I don’t know,” you drawl. “You’ve gotten me pretty worked up, Vik. I’ll need something big to make up for it.”

Viktor huffs, leaning forward until you can practically feel his lips on yours. “You’ll get it,” he promises. “Just wait until tomorrow. After the bus tour.”

“The bus tour?” you ask. “You still want to go on that?”

“Yes,” Viktor replies, tilting his head. “And if I recall correctly, you told me you wanted to as well. Unless you’ve changed your mind?” He raises an eyebrow - a challenge. “Either way, you’ll have to wait.“

Waiting until tomorrow morning is one thing - dragging yourself on a lengthy bus tour where you’ll have to keep your hands off him is another.

“Alright,” you agree, but you can’t help yourself. Your hand slips down to palm him, still painfully hard under your touch.

He lets out a groan and grabs your arm again, stopping you mid-touch. “You are a vixen,” he says, shaking his head. “Go to bed.”

He’s just beginning to step away, picking up his cane from the floor - which you hadn’t even noticed had fallen - when you speak. “If I promise not to try anything, will you kiss me again?” you ask softly.

His eyes find yours, and he smiles, returning to your arms for a moment as he nudges your nose with his. The press of his lips against yours is over much faster than you want it to be. Reality is beginning to hit you - he wants you back. He’s kissed you. Promised you that more will come in the future. Thought you wanted Jayce. It’s dizzying, really. You find yourself grasping at him, trying to keep him close just a little longer.

His thumb brushes over your cheek before he pulls away, staring at you for a moment.

“Tomorrow. I promise.”

“Tomorrow,” you echo.

Going to your room after that is a finely curated torture. The adrenaline of the kiss, of the feeling of his hands against your skin, it restlessly turns through you over and over. All you can do is pace around the room, the memories spinning through your mind on repeat. His lips on yours. Kisses along your neck. Biting.

The - you freeze for a moment. Your neck. Had he left a mark?

Yes, you find. A couple of them, blooming purple against your skin. You groan, burying your face in your hands. How are you supposed to survive this, when you want him so bad? How can he survive this?

Eventually, you pull up a bath, hoping it will distract you. It doesn’t help. Not even a little. Having him so close, knowing what his lips feel like on your skin, it’s driving you mad piece by piece. You want him. All over you, touching you. Whispering to you in that soft lilt, slowly driving away the ache between your legs with those adept fingers.

Or his mouth.

Your fingers find themselves slipping between your thighs, desperate for any relief. You find none. What usually calms you instead is a frustrating, empty result - you can’t seem to please yourself. Not when you know Viktor’s in the next room, maddeningly close. If he hadn’t asked you for tomorrow, you’d be in there now, doing things that make your mouth water at the thought.

Is he - as flustered as you are? Is he touching himself? You sit up at the thought. God, the picture of it alone has you squirming. Brows pinched together in ecstasy, slowly stroking himself, thinking of you. Does he want you there? Is he considering changing his mind, bursting into your room to curb his need?

You’d make it so good for him, down on your knees, your mouth warm and velvet. You’d tease him a little, but not too much. Just enough to get him on edge. To make his hand tighten in your hair. God. Your fingers have found yourself again, slowly stirring pleasure.

“Fuck - please,” you whisper, voice hoarse as your hand tightens on the edge of the tub. Your back is beginning to arch, already close, wanting him ever since he’d said those words to you.

Hodná holka. It melds in your mind with the way he’d groaned when you palmed him, finding a permanent spot in your brain, echoing itself on repeat over and over.

You’re applying it to... other situations. Fuck, you want him. If you wouldn’t have to get out of this bath, to stop touching yourself to go get him, you’re sure you’d be in his room already. For now, you’re rooted to the tub, slowly climbing closer, muscles tensing in your navel and thighs.

It’s the thought of Viktor’s mouth on you that finally sends you over the edge, panting and calling out his name.

You don’t sleep much that night, but there’s a rejuvenation in you when you wake, sparked by an idea you’d had before bed.

You’re unusually cheery when you walk into the kitchen, but Viktor is unusually late. You wait in there a while, but as the bus tour ticks closer, anxiety trickles in. There’s a brief moment where you consider letting him oversleep and missing the tour, but you immediately brush it away. That’d be cruel, no matter how much you want him.

Eventually, you knock on his door, shifting from foot to foot.

“I’ll be right there, he calls. “Sorry, I - shit!”

There’s a clattering sound before he appears, looking flustered and unkempt, his coat in one hand and his cane in the other.

“Hello,” he says breathlessly, setting his cane against the door as he pulls on the coat. “I apologize - I… seem to have overslept.”

“It’s alright,” you reply, trying to resist the temptation to brush the loose strands of his hair out of his face. “We have time.”

He checks his watch, giving a sigh. “Not as much as I wanted, but yes.” Then he hesitates, stepping forward until he’s inches away from you.

The warmth of his thumb against your cheek makes you shiver. “Kiss me,” you request.

He leans in until he’s inches away from you, nudging your nose with his own. “I’m afraid we don’t have the time for that.” His tone is teasing, and there’s a glint in his eye as he pulls back abruptly.

“Jsi vtipálek,” you grumble.

“You’ll survive.”

He places a hand on the small of your back and guides you toward the living room. What he’s seeming to forget is that two can play at this game.

It starts out small. If you had your way, it would have started in the car, but you’re not eager to repeat the events of last night. You force yourself to wait until the two of you are crammed into tight seats despite the bus’s emptiness, Viktor’s cane slotted between your seats.

A hand on his thigh. That’s what you choose first, keeping your eyes out the window. It’s killing you to not see his face, but you force yourself to act innocent. You flash him a smile, nearly losing your nerve as he returns it. That damned gap in his teeth - it’ll be the end of you one day. Your hand moves upward, going still at his upper thigh. Slowly, up and down his legs, your nails scratching against the fabric of his trousers.

His breath catches, just enough that you can hear it underneath the tour guide’s narration. You’re expecting him to move your hand or say something, but all you find is that his hand mirrors your actions on your leg. When you move your hand down again, he gives your thigh a light squeeze, leaning in.

“Behave,” he murmurs. The hair on the back of your neck is standing up, and to your dismay, his hand doesn’t move. It stays planted there for the next ten minutes, distracting you. It’s agony. All you can think about is those fingers inside you, as precise as he is with his equipment.

Eventually, you study them. The cool-toned veins that streak through them, the pink flush at the knuckles. This tour is driving you mad.

When Viktor notices your staring, he shifts his hand to the small of your back again, nails lightly scratching against your spine. When he finds you still unfocused, he leans in once more.

“If you were paying any attention,” he says, breath hot against your ear, “you’d find that this tour is very interesting.”

“Who says I wasn’t paying attention?”

He huffs at that. “Well, for one, your focus seemed to be on my hands. However, perhaps I can be proven wrong. What’s the place we just passed? Tell me one thing about it?”

Your lips part to answer, but you stall for a moment. “The… old church. With stained-glass windows.”

“That was five minutes ago,” Viktor says. “You are a terrible liar.”

You fold your arms over your chest, shifting away from him. “Maybe if you weren’t distracting me, I would be listening.”

His smile goes cocky. “I’m sorry. I did not realize that my hand on your back was so… distracting.” He removes it. “I expect you will be able to listen in peace, now.”

Everything about him is distracting. Not that you’d ever tell him that, seeing the smugness in his expression, but it’s a losing battle trying to keep your eyes off him. Trying to block the memories of last night and how it’d ended.

Eventually, you zone out and all you can think about is the memory of his mouth against your neck, leaving marks. Had he noticed? No, he couldn’t have - there’s a scarf wrapped around your neck.

Wanting to torture him a little, you remove it, giving a sigh. You count one, two, three seconds before he notices it - a strangled sound leaving his throat. Then his fingers are on you, tilting your chin up, brushing against the marks he’d left.

“Was that me?” he asks.

“It wasn’t Jayce,” you say, and he frowns a little, nosing against your cheek as he lets go of your neck.

“You have no idea how I envied him,” he breathes, hand on your thigh again. “I must admit, it was the first time I’ve ever considered leaving the lab. You’ve no clue how much you’ve tortured me.”

��I’ve never thought about him like that,” you respond. “Even before Mel. I wanted you from the start.”

His grip tightens a little. “As soon as we get off this bus…” His words are left open, leaving you to squirm next to him, trying to ignore the increasing heat between your legs.

“How much longer?”

He gives a sigh, checking his watch. His fingers comb through his hair as he does, and your eyes trail over the movement.

“Half an hour, most likely,” he says.

“Fuck.”

Ten minutes pass before you can’t help yourself any longer. This time you’re the one leaning in. “I have to know. Last night - did you think of me?” you murmur. His jaw clenches, and his cheeks go red, giving you all the information you need to know.

“You were the only thing I thought about last night,” he says. “I… began to regret my decision to leave, I must admit. The way I am now regretting going on this tour.”

“I thought about you,” you admit, thumb circling his inner thigh. “I could barely sleep.”

He swallows hard, gently lifting your hand off his leg. “Until we get back to the cabin, please - spare me. There’s only so much I can resist you.”

You don’t know how you survive the rest. Your hands won’t stop moving, clenching your shirt, your pants, the seat. Viktor can’t seem to look at you anymore, knuckles going white as he digs his nails into his palms.

You don’t like that he’s doing that. Your right hand settles on his, brushing against his knuckles until he opens his palm, leaving you to intertwine your fingers with his. Then you rest a head on his shoulder.

“What are we going to do when we get to the lab?” you ask softly.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t mean to be blunt, but… do you want just sex? Or-”

He cuts you off with the sound of your name, shaking his head. “If that is the impression I’ve given you, I am truly sorry.” His chest expands with his inhale beneath you, steady and comforting. “What I want is… much more than that. A relationship - if you feel the same.”

“I do.”

His relief is palpable. A warm smile that heats you from the inside out, the grip that tightens ever so slightly around your hands. You can't help but smile back at him.

“What was it?” you whisper. “That made you like me?”

He thinks for a moment, thumb brushing against your knuckles. “You are the most stubborn person I have ever met,” he says. “Worse than Jayce, even. From the beginning, that was clear. It showed in your work. Persistency. When things go wrong, you refuse to take no for an answer. You also aren’t afraid to push me or Jayce, or let us know when you disagree with us. Other people were… not so bold.” He pauses for a moment, eyes lingering on your face. “But most of all, you were kind. Always, even to those who were cruel, or rude. Even to me, when I was cold to you. I must confess, it only made me want you more. A trait like that is… truly rare, in this world.”

“Viktor-” you start, touched in a way you could never express

“You’re very beautiful, too,” Viktor murmurs, cutting you off. “I found it hard to keep my eyes off you.”

You laugh a little, cheeks going warm. “I thought it was just me who struggled with that,” you say.

“Not at all. Though, I will say, there were times I caught you looking at me and I… wondered. Or hoped, really. I - I didn’t want my feelings to get in the way of my logic again, so I forced myself to wait for a more prominent sign that you might return the way I felt.”

“I was scared,” you admit. “I never let myself hope for you. Not when you were turning down beautiful women left and right.”

“They weren’t you,” he says simply. “I can’t say anyone else has caught my interest the way you do.” He hesitates for a moment. “I must know. What drew you to me?”

“Aside from you being devastatingly handsome?” you ask, reveling in the way his cheeks flush. “You’re the best man I know. Always focused on helping people, improving lives, even if it costs you sleep, or food, or anything else. You also happen to be the smartest person I’ve ever met - incredibly witty, and… passionate. I could listen to you talk about your work for hours without getting bored. You’re brave and ambitious, not afraid to take risks… You’re always seeking to change the world.” You bury your forehead in his shoulder for a moment, before looking back at him. “Just being around you inspires me.”

He seems to be caught in a lack for words, but his hand is squeezing against yours incredibly tight.

“I - don’t know what to say to that,” he says eventually. “You flatter me.”

“I disagree. All my compliments were genuine and deserved.”

“Then… thank you,” he settles on. “Though, I can’t pretend I’m not flawed. You’ve seen the effects of that.”

“It’s in the past,” you assure him. “Knowing why you acted the way you did is helpful. You’ve also apologized for it. It’s okay. It’s forgiven.”

He sighs, tilting his head against yours. “I do not know what I’ve done to deserve you.”

“Everything,” you reply.

Once the two of you have stopped at the store, the walk home is silent. It’s been so long since someone has touched you. Kissed you. Wanted you. The crunch of the snow under your feet is the only thing keeping you grounded. Never have you wanted something so much, and been so scared of it.

By the time the two of you get inside, you’re trembling like a leaf. Viktor is setting his things down evenly - steady in his work. Then he turns and looks at you.

“Do you… still want to?”

“Yes.” Despite your fear, the word slides smoothly out of you, spilling from you like a rush of spring water.

“Perhaps we should take this to the bedroom, then?” he asks.

You nod, feeling like you’re floating away as you follow him. You can’t take your eyes off the box of condoms in his hand until he sets it down on the nightstand next to his bed. Then he heads into the bathroom to retrieve a towel. His words from last night are haunting you. I don’t know how to allow myself the things I’ve wanted for well over a year now. Does he feel that way now? Is he as nervous as you are?

He must be - when he comes back, he hesitates before he kisses you, fiddling with his cane. You step in closer, cradling his cheek with your hand. Then you allow yourself a moment to look around.

This room is not his, per se, but it has so many remnants of him. Clothes folded neatly, but his suit from last night crumpled up into a ball. Pages of notes scattered on the desk, a book on the side of his bed. The one you’d been reading on the train.

“I thought that book was frightening for your tastes,” you say, nudging his nose with yours.

“I got curious. I had to see if it lived up to the hype. You weren’t lying - it’s a bit much for me.”

“I was lying,” you whisper, inches away from his lips. “I didn’t read a word of that book on the train. I was thinking about you.”

That’s the final straw. Viktor takes your face in his hands and kisses you. His cane falls to the floor, but neither of you seem to mind, backing up toward the bed until it hits the back of your legs and you sit, pulling him next to you. Then you shift until you’re sitting on his lap, groaning when you feel how hard he is beneath you.

“Fuck,” you mutter. “Viktor, touch me.”

You don’t have to ask twice. His hands are all over you - in your hair, tracing along your jaw, pulling on your shirt. Sucking down your neck, undoing your bra in smooth precision. Taking a nipple into his mouth, which draws a strangled sound from your lips. He’s like a man starved, only settling when your pants are on the floor and his thumb is on your clit, rubbing slow circles. You gasp at the coldness of his fingers, then moan, tugging on his hair.

“Fuck.”

“This is what I thought about last night,” Viktor says, breathless. “You. Touching you.”

His words draw a whimper out of you as he continues on his pace. “Don’t stop,” you beg. “Please.”

His fingers stray downward, and he curses. “How long have you been this wet?” he asks.

“Since I saw you in that suit,” you pant, grabbing onto him tighter as he slips a finger inside you. To the knuckle at first, then deeper when you whine.

“I want you inside me.”

“Not yet,” he says, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. “I’ve been dreaming about this for months. I fully intend to milk it for all it’s worth.”

And so he does, down on his knees at the side of your bed, face buried between your legs. Groaning when he first tastes you, adding two fingers inside you, his other hand gripping your thigh. Humming against you when you clench around him, the rhythm of his fingers and his tongue slowly driving you mad.

You barely get the chance to warn him before you cum - his name a strangled cry on your tongue. The room goes fuzzy. The ringing in your ears and the feeling of Viktor’s tongue on you are the only signs that you’re still in your body.

“Fuck,” you mutter, squirming from overstimulation as Viktor continues his work.

When you start laughing, almost deliriously, he finally moves - coming up to kiss you, brushing his thumb against your cheek as your lips meet. “You’re beautiful,” he says softly, nudging his forehead against you. “Had enough?”

“Not a chance.” You grab his arm as you sit up, positioning him under you like earlier, unbuttoning his shirt.

“This fabric has tortured me,” you whisper, nipping along his clavicle then up his throat. “Have you seen yourself? How distracting you are?” Your fingers have reached the buttons of his pants. “I can barely focus on my work.”

He groans, the sound gaining gravel when your hand strokes along his length, painfully hard.

“I’ve never wanted someone like I want you, Viktor,” you say.

“Fuck.” The word comes out thick, breathing heavily before he swallows hard. His hand has found your hair again, tangling in it before he pulls you in for a kiss. “You’ve tortured me just as much.” He sounds strained, his index finger trailing along your lips. Lips that part automatically, taking his finger into your mouth, noting the way his eyes dilate.

“Fuck.” His head tilts back as you continue your rhythm, leaving you access to kiss up his neck. Things you’ve dreamed of. Dreams that pale in reality to the softness of his skin, the sounds he’s making as you touch him.

Eventually, he grabs your arm, brows pinched together in effort. “Give me… a moment, please,” he pants.

You take it as an opportunity to grab a condom from the box. Watching him like this has you soaking wet again, aching for relief. He’s beautiful like this, so warm and real next to you. He’s always beautiful. How many times have you snuck glances at him, trying to satiate your desire to see the way his nose scrunches up when he thinks? How many times have you imagined kissing him, and never knew that this was where you’d end up - shamelessly staring at him, watching as the tension in his abdomen relaxes and he opens his eyes.

“Forgive me-” he starts, but he’s cut off as you kiss him.

“Tell me this is real,” you plead, trailing your hand up his thigh. He shivers and lets out a moan, leaning into your neck to feather kisses up your throat.

“It’s real.”

You hold up the condom. At his nod, you open it, rolling it onto him in a fluid motion.

“Tell me you want me.” You’re back on top of him now, his hands clutching at your hips, nails digging into your skin as you sink down on him, a hiss leaving your mouth as he stretches you. Fuck, he feels good.

“I - I want you. More than anything,” he breathes. At the roll of your hips, he moans. Then his thumb returns to your clit, making you shudder.

“I want you, too,” you pant. “You’re amazing, Viktor. Amazing.”

He’s seemingly lost his ability to reply, aside from hissed curses as you ride him, placing a hand on the headboard to steady yourself.

You get lost in that - the feeling of him inside you, dragging in and out of your slickness, the muttered string of words he lets out when something feels especially good. Some of it is in Czech, some in English.

You get close fast, much faster than you should - but you’ve never been more turned on in your life, and the adrenaline that’s flooding through your veins isn’t exactly helping. Eventually, your thighs begin to ache from the strain. You’re essentially edging yourself trying to battle the burning in your muscles, and most likely edging Viktor along with you, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He just kisses you. Entwines your hand with his.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, words reverent against your skin. Then he shifts, gently pulling himself out from under you. You whine at the sudden loss of him, but then he’s grabbing a pillow and laying it down, motioning for you to put it under your hips

“Why the pillow?” you ask, winded as you place yourself on top of it.

“It increases pleasure,” Viktor says, his cheeks going red. “I… read about it during research.”

“Research?” You quirk an eyebrow. You desperately want him inside of you again, but you can’t resist pressing him.

His face only flushes further. “Well, I… didn’t spend all those late nights thinking of you without learning a trick or two,” he mumbles.

He’d done research on how to please you. You could come just from that.

You don’t, though, not yet. Not until he’s inside you again, pressing kisses along your jaw as he thrusts inside you at a steady rhythm. You scramble for purchase and find it in his hair and his back, your ankle wrapped around his waist. He feels so fucking good. You’re close again, tension springing up in your thighs and stomach, pleasure coursing through your body. You’re so close.

“What was it that flustered you so much again?” he asks, breathing heavily. “Good girl?”

That’s all it takes to send you over the edge, shuddering and panting. Viktor cums just a second or two after you, burying his face in the crevice between your shoulder and neck as he groans.

Your body doesn’t come back to you until Viktor slides out of you, pressing a kiss of apology to your lips as you hiss at the sensation. Then he leaves for a moment. You hear the water running in the bathroom, but you can’t find it in yourself to look at what he’s doing. You’re exhausted, completely sexed out, and incredibly happy.

You register his return at the feeling of the warm, wet washcloth that he uses to clean you up. Then he settles into the bed beside you, tucking damp strands of your hair out of your face.

“Was that alright?” he asks.

“It was perfect, Viktor,” you murmur, lifting a hand to cradle his cheek. “I never could have dreamed that up.”

“As good as you’d hoped?”

“Better.”

He waits a moment, then presses his forehead against yours. “Shall we get cleaned up?” he asks. “I can draw a bath.”

“Yes, please.”

The bathtub is certainly big enough for the both of you.

tags: @mischievous-piltovian @scorpio-echo @shamoane @moonlight-silent @pingas030 @ohnosiren @abrokenlink @dovahkiinchan @failed-human-being @onlygetaway @ironnieincarn8 @twiling-lady

#viktor x reader #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor x you #viktor x reader arcane #arcane viktor #arcane #viktor #mywriting

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