#<- I wouldn’t call myself a ‘man’ per se

[bvidzsoo]

Above the world

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

🕸️Warning: cursing, mentions of murder and robbery, wounds, slightly suggestive 🕸️Word count: 25.6k 🕸️Rating: nc-17 🕸️Genre: Spiderman!AU, Marvel & DC references, superheroes!AU, strangers to lovers!AU, highschool!AU 🕸️Summary: Moving to a new city due to your mother's psychotic ex-fiancé, you thought the past wouldn't catch up with you, but it does. You're an outcast at your new highschool until a tall and dorky guy approaches you and decides to be your friend. Oh, and did I mention there's also this weird superhero kinda guy in the city who calls himself Spiderman? And why does he kind of remind you of your new friend?

A/N: Lovelies, it's finally here!! I've been planning to write this story for at least two months now, I just didn't have the time for it, but it's here at last! Few things I'd like to quickly point out: 1. I hope the humor I used isn't a miss as once again I wanted to explore something new and used a different writing style, 2. they are in highschool but it's not cringe, I promise (I haven't written a highschool setting in ages lol), 3. I used some terms that are skateboard related and so, I'll leave a little glossary of what those mean below! ^^ (I hope I managed to describe these well) (I hate the fact that I didn't incorporate the famous "hold on tight spider-monkey" line, but it is what it is lol) Sorry if there are any mistakes, I do proofread but it's super late rn and my brain might not pick up on all the mistakes! :') Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy this little (not so little) story, and your feedback is always super welcome, they inspire me to write even more lol! divider

⎊ (I have an Iron Man!Mingi oneshot, if you're interested! ^^)

🕸️360: a complete skateboard and body rotation performed either frontside or backside 🕸️180: a half skateboard and body rotation performed either frontside or backside 🕸️alley-oop: an aerial transition trick in which the skater moves his body sideways in the opposite direction of the rotating movement 🕸️backside: a trick or turn executed with the skater's back facing the ramp coping or the obstacle 🕸️alley-oop backside 50-50 grind 🕸️540 backside 🕸️airwalk: an aerial trick in which the skater grabs the nose of the board, kicks the feet out while in the air, and then quickly back on when he's about to land it 🕸️ollie: a trick in which the skater uses his or her feet to pull the skateboard up into the air 🕸️backside nose slip 🕸️frontside boneless 🕸️Casper Flip: a trick in which the skater performs a half-flip and then uses the back foot to grab the tail and whip it

            Despite the unfamiliarity of the dimly lit street, there was something very comforting and—quite familiar—about this new place. Perhaps I couldn’t call it home just yet—given that it’s barely my second day here—but there was something cozy about the wet ground shimmering underneath the glimmering streetlamps that did little to nothing to light up all corners of the—otherwise—dark street. Not many are out at this hour, and it’s not because it’s too late, it’s the fact that my mother and I managed to find ourselves—barely— a modest little house, in probably one of the dodgiest parts of this, new, promising, and quite huge city. I wouldn’t call it the slums—I’ve seen worse places compared to this one—but the eerily empty street could make anyone run back inside their house upon nightfall. And, well, I get it—if it weren’t for my favourite music blasting through my wired—probably from the Stone Age—earphones, I probably would’ve found myself scurrying back home as well. But for once, I didn’t mind the cool breeze of air that’s settled upon the city after the rain that came out of nowhere. It was autumn, but the leaves haven’t started falling down just yet. It was the perfect timing for me to join my new high-school, not that there was ever a good timing, per se, I always thought a newcomer would remain just that—a newcomer. And while I didn’t have had to move towns in quite a while now, I still remembered what kind of treatment would be waiting for me tomorrow.

The new girl in school. Everyone would be eager tomorrow to get to know me, to talk to me, to try and befriend me. And me—well, I had nothing against all that—but deep down I just really wished to remain unseen, and most importantly, unbothered. I have never considered myself a very sociable person, and later than sooner, people would realize that and they would finally leave me alone. I don’t have many friends for this exact reason, and the one I do have moved to Spain a long time ago, our phones now the only way to keep in touch—my mother finally saw the important of me being on my phone so often. But it was fine, I didn’t mind the distance, however, there were days when I wished we could hang out, go on small trips, enjoy each other’s company. Nayoung had promised to visit soon, but we both knew she was too busy with her life over in Spain for that to happen anytime soon, and I didn’t have it in myself to pester her about the promise she made.

The neighbourhood my mother and I had moved to wasn’t too far from the heart of the city—and while one would expect it to be lively and bright, it was anything but that—even during the daytime. People seemed to avoid making eye contact and they hung their heads low around here, barely muttering even as much as a greeting if you crossed paths with them down the wide street, even if they were your neighbours. The houses, too, seemed to be silent at all times, no little children screaming and laughing or playing outside, no rowdy teenagers blasting music and getting yelled at for not doing their homework. It was odd, but it was only temporal—well, that is if my mother manages to land herself a better paying job so that we can move away from here. These houses were closely pressed up against each other, back gardens rather—inexistent. Our house just so happened to be neighbouring a huge building—offices, someone had told us—but for what business, we didn’t know. And probably wouldn’t want to know.

I’ve seen some roughed-up people come and go from the beaten-up building. The narrow alleyway just so happened to be a dead-end between our house and this building, and my mother had been debating whether she should place bars outside on my window as it just so happened to be facing this small alleyway. It wasn’t as dark as one would expect it to be, but a barely lit-up streetlamp did a shitty job at fully illuminating it.

I bobbed my head to the music, humming—hopefully—quietly to myself as I skipped down the road, almost splashing myself in the process as I failed to notice a rather deep looking puddle. I chuckled as I narrowly missed it and threw the plastic bag over my right shoulder—completely forgetting I had eggs in there. With an alarmed expression, I scrambled to hold the plastic bag normally and peeked inside, letting out a sigh in relief upon seeing that the eggs were completely fine, not one cracked. I knew my mother would make me walk back to the small convenience store—which was probably about to close up—and I really just wanted to watch my anime—the one I had seen about five hundred times, but who cares?! Some people tend to cling to that what brings them the most comfort, and this anime was like that for me. However, just as the chorus of the song blasted through my earphones, I cleared my throat, ready to mouth the lyrics as I remained alone on the street, when I felt a harsh tug on my right arm. And when I didn’t react to it straight away, I was pushed forward, stumbling through a puddle and splashing my new white Vans.

“Oh, come on, man!” I snapped, frowning down at my, now, dirty shoes, “I just got these yesterday!”

As I turned and went to pull out the earphone from my left ear, I was met with a sight that I wasn’t exactly expecting. Well, to be fair, I thought a kid or an asshole had run into me on purpose, but—having a metal gun almost pressing into my forehead certainly wasn’t what I was expecting—what a way to greet your new neighbour on their second day of living here!

“Empty your pockets!” The tall man, dressed in all black—typical—hissed as I managed to pull out both of my earphones while moving slowly, “And give me everything that’s pricey.”

Well, jokes on him, I didn’t have anything pricey on myself…well, except for my phone, “I don’t really have that many pockets, man.”

I pulled my cardigan’s pockets out, showing the robber that I really had nothing inside, “Look, man, if you think you are broke?! Just look at me! You are really out here trying to rob a broke high-school student—”

“Shut up!” The man snapped, and I froze as the barrel of his gun was now forcefully pressing against my forehead. Uh, yeah, if there’s one thing I totally suck at—well, it’s shutting the hell up when needed, “Give me your rings! Now!”

My eyebrows furrowed and I looked down at my hands, scowling as I realized I was wearing all of my favourite rings. Like hell was I giving them to this dude!

“Honestly, I got these from some antique shop for the cheapest price ever,” I huffed, raising the plastic bag between us and trying to ignore the way my heartbeat picked up when the man’s eyes narrowed, gun pressing just a little bit harder against my cold skin—okay, I have started sweating, “But you can totally take this bag! Like, man, it’s all yours, really! I’m not even hungry anymore! My mom’s hot dogs can wait for another day, you can have it, man.”

“What the fuc—” But before the man could even finish his sentence, he was gone. Like—gone. Whisked away, or some shit. I stood there, dumbfounded, mouth gaping and blinking at nothing. I swear, the man was in front of me a second ago and now he’s—not anymore? I gulped, squeezing the plastic bag to my chest—disregarding the fact that I could crack the eggs—and slowly looked around, now finally acknowledging the fact that I was really panicking. What do you mean I was being threatened a second ago at gunpoint and now that motherfucker disappeared into thin air?! Did I inhale something sketchy when I passed those two dudes in front of the convenience store? Was I hallucinating now? Has the trauma induced by my mother’s ex finally caught up to me, ready to torment me? Am I going to—the soft thump in front of me made me freeze as I slowly moved my eyes from the sky towards where I heard the sound come from and—yeah, I screamed.

“Hey, hey, wait!” Whatever that thing was called out, making my eyes widen as I accidentally stumbled back, certainly about to fall into a puddle, but—a web shot out towards me from that thing’s wrist and caught me mid-air, gently stabilizing me, “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m not here to hurt you! I just—saved you, actually.”

The sound—well, voice—coming from underneath that thing’s—man’s—mask was boyish and a little bit distorted, but I could hear its—his—tone very well, still. It was soft and sounded rather concerned. Having realized that I was still gaping towards this—something—with my heart practically in my throat, I closed my mouth and blinked furiously, trying to clear my head as I shook my body in case this was a dream—it seemed like the perfect moment to wake up, before it could turn even weirder.

“Okay,” The masked thing—man, guy, whatever—mused, clearly sounding amused now, “I’ve never seen anyone react like that to Spiderman, actually.”

“A spider what?” I asked confused, eyebrows furrowing as I held onto the bag even tighter. For a moment, there was complete—awkward—silence.

“Spiderman?” The person sounded unsure as they scratched their nape, its mask blinking. I jumped, allowing my eyes to fully take in this—creature?! Why did it look like a real man if they called themselves a Spiderman?! As if all that wasn’t enough, the person was tall enough to loom over my form in its red and blue glory, the costume moulding against their lean and—softly—muscular body, looking like a second skin, almost. The design was intricate, and I could swear it looked like it had some actual web sewed into it. All in all, the outlook was quite cool, it’s just that it was confusing to look at…him? I mean, the person did look like a man, alright—a fine one, on top of that—and they did call themselves a man, so.

“Are you going to—morph into a spider or some shit?” I found myself asking, sounding less mortified than I felt on the inside. That was good, no? I mean…this creature still hadn’t attacked me or killed me, so we were getting somewhere, right?

“Morph into a spider—” And then the creature—man—was laughing hard and loudly, doubling over as its body shook, hitting its knees with its hands, making me narrow my eyes at them. Nothing about what I had asked was funny. I was genuinely confused. Was this some kind of prank? Would I end up going viral all over the internet? Where were the cameras?

“I’m not Antman.”

“Antman doesn’t turn into an ant.” I deadpanned, the stranger in front of me raising up to their full height again, quieting down. I swear to God, I could just about slightly see their lips pursed, but the mask did a good job at concealing every feature of the stranger’s.

“Yeah, you’re actually right.” The stranger seemed to agree with me, and if I had to take a guess, he was probably smiling underneath his mask, “So, if Antman doesn’t turn into an actual ant, do you think Spiderman will turn into an actual spider?”

“Where are we? At school?” I deadpanned sarcastically, eyebrows furrowing as I just realized the web this creature had shot towards me to stop me from falling into the puddle was still clinging to my forearm. Ew.

“Right, I’m—oh.” The stranger cut themselves off as something on their left arm started buzzing, quiet beeping catching my attention as I looked towards his wrist, at which the weirdo was blinking down at now—well, their mask was, “Sorry, duty calls, them bad boys are asking for it again. Are you far from home?”

“No, I live right down the street.” I found myself answering whatsoever, the fear of getting murdered miraculously gone despite this weird encounter.

“Cool, then hurry home before it gets later and more dangerous.” The stranger’s voice was friendly, and I watched as they bent their knees a few times, looking like they were about to launch themselves away.

“Wait—” I quickly said, biting my lower lip when the masked man turned his head towards me, “where’s the guy that was threatening me?”

The stranger just shrugged his shoulders once, and I could hear the smile in his voice, “Don’t worry about him, he won’t bother you again anytime soon.”

“Oh, okay.” I whispered, eyes widened once the stranger shot another web from their wrist, this one quite long as it latched onto the side of an abandoned factory. Wow, just how was that possible? Wouldn’t it break? No, wait, it was able to hold me without breaking, so it certainly wouldn’t break under this man’s weight—isn’t that impressive?!

“Hey,” Snapped out of my thoughts, I was surprised to find the man crouched down, funnily resembling a frog, “I’m glad I found you at the right time, but try to be more careful next time, I’m afraid I won’t be always around to save you.”

I gulped and nodded, feeling my cheeks tinge red a little, “Thanks…Spiderman?”

The person chuckled, soft and a little deep, somehow the voice modulator unable to properly mask the sound, and then—as quickly as he had appeared in front of my eyes out of thin air—he was gone just like that too. I whipped my head up with my mouth falling open, watching in awe as the man swung around from building to building, making it seem like nothing. He had some mad trust in those webs of his, I could never. My fear of heights simply would make me too terrified to frail around like that, so high up in the sky. One misstep and—well, you’re dead.

The loud barks of a dog coming from a house down the street made me jump, and I realized I should’ve long made my way home. Couldn’t have my mother worrying about me so soon, and so, heeding the advice of this…Spiderman, I hurried the rest of the way back home, reminding myself to look up this mystery—hero?

            Well, school turned out to be the complete opposite of my expectations. The ambush I was waiting for as I walked through the large front doors—well, it never happened. People swarming towards me, desperate to meet and greet the new girl—that, also didn’t happen. Perhaps I misjudged the situation at first, after all, not all people were so eager to make new friends, but to not have at least one single person approach me was—simply put, odd. Well, it was odd until I found out the reason as to why everyone seemed to steer clear from my path, avert their eyes—or even going to the length of staring at the ground while they walked past me—or why I heard whispers behind my back everywhere I went. They’ve heard what my ‘step-father’ had done. By now, everyone knew why my mother and I had to move to a new city, yet nobody bothered enough to hear the full story—or at least wait before judging me. He wasn’t even my step-father, actually, my mother never got to marry him with how he’s now locked up in federal prison, rotting away in a cell.

“Did you hear her father stabbed the man one hundred times?”

“Do you think she’s also a psychopath?”

“She does look like one, if you ask me.”

“Who even allowed her to enrol in our school?!”

“Wait, what if she carries a knife on her like her father did?!”

“Do you think her father brought her out with himself to hunt for his prey together?”

Were some of the absurd whispers I managed to catch during the four hours that I’ve been at my new school, and these questions just kept getting more hilarious and deranged each time I heard them.

“Yes, and he made sure to teach me how to smell a weakling, too.” I had smirked, just barely turning my head, to look at the blonde girl in line behind me as we were waiting for our turn to pick up our food, “Usually blondies like you are easy to lure in, sweetheart. Less yapping and paying more attention to your surroundings might save you next time from saying something embarrassing about said person standing right next to you.”

The blonde’s eyes had almost bulged out of her eye sockets just as it was our turn to pick up our food for the day, and then I was off to find a table that was still empty as I knew no one would want to sit next to me. Thankfully, the canteen of the high-school was spacious enough.

And after that, not much happened other than people unabashedly staring my way and whispering, the teachers being either very nice or acting uncaring towards me. And by the middle of the day, I was finally ready to head home, but I had yet to power through two more classes. And if that didn’t sound excruciating enough, the loud laughter suddenly dying down as a group of girls passed by me, certainly brought a sour taste into my mouth. I couldn’t help myself as I played into the rumours and hissed at the girls, making them scramble off in a frenzy. I chuckled, and quite quickly almost choked on my own spit as someone had started to chuckle behind me, scaring the living daylights out of me. I had—foolishly—assumed I was alone in the hallway, wanting to pick up a few books from my locker before I would head to my next class. I had zero intentions to pay attention in my last two classes, reading some manga will do for the time being.

“You’re not helping yourself by feeding into these people’s delusions.” The same voice that had chuckled spoke up as I whirled around, totally not expecting to see the loomingly tall guy from my classes, leaned against the lockers, a dashing smile on his face. Fuck. Did he have to be so handsome?

“Speaking to the ‘daughter’ of a criminal? How daring,” I whispered, faking a deranged smile as I grabbed something out of my pocket, “Aren’t you afraid you might be my next victim? Considering the fact that these stupid kids at school seem to think I’ve killed—fifteen people already?!”

And to that morbid ‘joke’, I certainly didn’t expect my cute—and handsome—classmate to burst out laughing. His puffy cheeks had a natural rosiness to them and I couldn’t fight the smile on my lips as I noticed the tips of his ears had turned slightly red as well. He laughed with his whole mouth, hand shielding it and oh—his fingers were nice. Long. Well—my classmate looked down at my hand, still laughing, as I held a plastic fork oh so menacingly and threateningly, pointed towards his chest.

“Why do you have a plastic fork in your jacket?” My classmate asked amused, narrowing his eyes teasingly, “Were you waiting all day long just to do that?”

“No!” I exclaimed mortified, hiding the plastic fork behind my back. God, this is now really embarrassing, “I just—I was wearing this jacket when my mom and I were moving in. I bought some food and this fork, apparently, and then completely forgot about it and left it in my pocket.”

I could swear I heard my classmate mutter a ‘cute’ before he straightened up, dusting his seemingly completely spotless jeans. Oh, God, okay, he’s tall tall. I gulped as I slightly had to look up at him, feeling so completely little despite having a quite decent height for a girl—not that there’s anything wrong with any type of heights.

“I meant to greet you during our lunch break, but my friends wouldn’t let me leave,” My classmate spoke up while scratching the back of his head, looking sheepish. I had to force my eyes to move up to his face from his hands, only to have my stomach doing weird flips. Oh, hell no, I was not about to have a crush on someone—let alone my classmate—the very first day I get to my new high-school. But the guy wore washed out blue jeans, looking a little baggy, and he had a white, probably, t-shirt peeking out from underneath his green long-sleeved blouse, a jersey with our school’s logo thrown over it. And the blue and white bandana around his greyish-greenish—and blueish in certain lightning—hair certainly pulled his outfit together, making him look really good. And despite considering myself someone who is almost always well dressed, I felt quite plain looking right now. Absentmindedly, I started playing with one of my many rings that I was wearing, “My name is Jeong Yunho, by the way.”

Right, Jeong Yunho. I’ve caught his name from the teachers and a few classmates already. I smiled, nodding a little, “Yeah, I’ve heard your name a few times this morning. I’m Kang Y/N.”

“It’s nice to officially meet you, then, Y/N.” I chuckled and shook his extended hand, totally trying not to gape at how big it was and how awfully well it enveloped around mine. Plus, his hand was way too hot, almost to the point it was burning my freezing hand.

“You too.” I found myself answering, but not quite present as I tried to pull my hand out of Yunho’s before I would start gushing about his fingers. God, when have I turned into this person? Yeah, I had a thing for hands, fingers, and rings, sue me—but never have I had it this badly for someone I just met.

“So,” Yunho said cheerily, clapping his hands together as I pushed mine inside my jacket’s pockets, “Do you want me to show you around school? I know a few good hiding spots for when you’re in the mood to skip classes.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be in class right now, though?” I asked confused, looking down the empty hallway. The bell had rung a good ten minutes ago, but I had figured the teacher’s would be lenient with me today as I was new and—didn’t actually know my way around school just yet.

“Nah,” Yunho chuckled, his features really boyish and—cute—damn it, “I spoke to the teacher, it was his idea to ask me to show you around, actually. You’ll find Mr. Kim a rather odd man, but he’s cool and really smart.”

“Oh, okay,” I muttered, pursing my lips as I opened my locker to put away my books as I didn’t need them anymore, “but for the record, that guy everyone is talking about, isn’t my father. We’re not related, not even a little bit. He’s a psycho and I’m glad he’s locked up for life.”

I didn’t mean to sound so—rough, but I hated the fact that everybody so quickly assumed things about me that weren’t even true. Yeah, I didn’t exactly want to be bothered and make new friends, but one or two people would’ve been still nice if they did approach me.

“Yeah, I don’t exactly care,” Yunho said with a casual shrug, giving me a small smile that made his cheeks puff out a little bit, “call it a spidey sense, but I think you’re a really nice person.”

My eyes narrowed as I huffed quietly, crossing my arms in front of my chest as Yunho grinned, looking ready to finally show me around, “Speaking of spiders, who the fuck is this Spiderman?”

            If there was one thing in the world that I would find no matter where I was—that was a skatepark. No matter how much I love watching anime and reading mangas, skateboarding just so happens to be a little higher up on the scarce list of my likes and dislikes. And after having cruised around my neighbourhood, narrowly avoiding the masses as I refused to step down off my skateboard, I finally found a skatepark. It wasn’t too packed, which was really awesome—I never actually liked it when it was full of rowdy kids wanting to show off—and it was in walking—or riding—distance from the neighbourhood I live in. At least the people around here look a little bit friendlier than the ones back on my street, my mother would finally have something to be happy about. She hates our new place—understandably so—and is restlessly looking for a new job, to the point that I had to shut her laptop off last night for her and send her to bed. Who is being the responsible adult now, huh, mom?

Today was my third day at school and—well, it could have been worse, to be fair. My peers still looked at me like I had two heads—or was carrying a knife on me—they still whispered made up shit about me—of course, they did, it was barely my third day—but somehow having Yunho around slightly helped? Yeah, Yunho—well, he is quite adamant on being my friend despite me very obviously ruining his perfect reputation. It wasn’t hard to notice just how popular this dude actually is at school. Everyone greets him in the hallways, people flock to him every few minutes, and he’s always smiling and making small talk with everyone. He does have his closer-knit friend group—who very obviously are not fond of me—yet he still somehow makes it seem like he’s friends with absolutely everyone. I wounder if he’s ever had an enemy in his life before—less likely, to be fair. With a face and personality like his, I don’t think anyone would have the guts to hate that guy.

But putting thoughts of Yunho aside and sending a quick text to my mother to inform her about my whereabouts, I placed my phone back in the back pocket of my jeans, and took off towards the slope. My skateboard glided smoothly along the ground as I passed by a few other skaters, the sky darkening soon as evening was slowly approaching. A group of guys were huddled together and watching something on their phones as I did a 360, grinning as they cast glances my way after the little trick I pulled. I wasn’t a big trick master, never too bothered to actually learn the ones that were more dangerous, however the few tricks I did know were pretty cool and nicely executed. Arriving to the slope, I stepped my left foot off the skateboard and looked down, watching a few skaters glide down and do tricks. The slope wasn’t too high nor too big, I had no problem going down it. So, stepping back onto my skateboard, I kicked off and grinned as my heart started pumping faster, the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream. I had tied my hair in a low ponytail, not keen of having it whipped in my face by the wind.

I grinned as my path was clear, making it possible for me to do a kickflip, my skateboard lifting and turning as I raised my knees high up, letting out a quiet huff as the moment was soon over and my feet were planted on my skateboard again, the speed and force enough to help me glide up on the other end of the slope. A guy and girl were at the top, both clapping casually as I grinned, doing a 180 turn before stepping off my skateboard.

“Nice one.” The girl praised and I bowed my head slightly, grinning.

“Thanks, you’re pretty cool yourself too.” I complimented her, having seen her do an ‘alley-oop backside 50-50 grind’. The girl grinned and did a mock salute before she was off the slope, in no time doing a 540 backside, making the guys—and myself—cheer for her. She had some nice skills; I had to give it to her. The girl grinned as she came to a stop at the top of the other end of the slope, shooting thumbs up towards us. I chuckled and walked to the side, taking a seat as my legs dangled off the slope. I had been riding around for more than half an hour, I could use a break right now. Besides, taking in my ‘competitors’ was always a smart move. And I mean, maybe I could make some friends too here? That girl seems pretty cool and the tricks she knows are awesome. I watched her do an ‘airwalk’, then ‘ollied’ off the side of the slope as she was headed towards a ledge grind, where she went for a ‘backside nose slip’. I placed my hands underneath my thighs as another guy went barrelling down the other end of the slope, doing a 50-50 grind as he came up on the side I was sitting at, before heading for a smaller ramp, nailing a ‘frontside boneless’. I pursed my lips and nodded, appreciating his technique as the bigger crowd of boys now kicked off too, weaving through the smaller ramps, doing tricks as one of them was headed for the slope. He grinned as he kicked off his skateboard, picking up speed as he went from one side to the other, winking at me as he did a 50-50 grind, making me snort. But he wasn’t done trying to impress the people who were watching him, and he daringly went ahead and did a ‘Casper Flip’, my eyes widening at how smoothly he nailed it. That was a trick I have tried to learn one too many times, but in the end my legs just got jumbled together—and not having enough patience—I just gave up on it.

The guy did another kickflip and then he was off towards his friends, who were loudly cheering him on, patting his back. I chuckled and looked around, noticing it was golden hour. It was beautiful, the sun coated everything in orange, reflecting off the windows of the tall buildings surrounding the park. I smiled and grabbed my phone, snapping a few pictures off it before I realized it was getting really late now and I still had to finish my Geography homework. So, just as I stood up, suddenly loud cheers erupted all around me, making me look around curiously. But there wasn’t anyone performing any cool or hard tricks, so I looked on confused, up until I saw someone pointing upwards. And as I looked up too, squinting as the golden hue of the sunlight was harsh to the bare eyes, I noticed something swinging from building to building. Red and blue and webs. Ah, Spiderman. I chuckled as I glanced at the kids in the park again, noticing the awe and excitement as they waved and pointed at the—hero?

“Spiderman!” A younger looking girl cried out, waving so hard her arm threatened to fall off any minute now, her phone in her hand, no doubt recording Spiderman. But the guy was too high-up to hear anyone call out for him. I grabbed my skateboard and placed my phone back in my pocket before I was off the slope, doing a few ollies and kickflips in the process, skirting around the mini-ramps, opting to just casually stroll out of the park. I pushed my hands in my pockets and allowed the skateboard to roll at an acceptable speed, smiling at the cool girl when she waved at me, noticing that I was on my way out. However, as my attention was on her, I failed to notice a guy rolling towards me rather quickly, in the midst of doing an airwalk, completely oblivious to me as he grinned at the camera his friend had pointed towards him. And when I finally turned my head to look ahead, it was too late as the guy and my skateboards crashed together, making me cry out in surprise. In no time was I tumbling towards the cold ground, bracing myself for the impact, thinking I would end up with scrapped elbows—if nothing anything worse.

But the impact never came and I stood frozen, hearing whispers around me and the other guy’s moans of pain. My eyebrows furrowed as I slowly opened one eye, mouth falling completely open as Yunho stood leaning over me, one strong arm holding me up around my middle, my body inches away from the ground. His eyes searched my face for a second before a huge smile stretched onto his lips, chuckling at my befuddlement as my heart continued to race. Since when was Yunho at the skatepark? And how did I fail to notice him? And why was I blushing so hard as he helped me stand up straight?

“Oh—uh—hi.” I muttered, feeling flustered as Yunho didn’t release me despite me being back on my two feet, “Thanks, that’s—impressive. Uh—since when were you at the park?”

Yunho chuckled and averted his eyes, his ears reddening suspiciously as he released me at last, “Just now—I mean, I was around. At the back, uh, I—I was passing by when I saw someone I knew in here and—are you okay?”

“It’s not me you have to be worried about.” I said with a grimace, pointing at the other guy that was now sitting on the ground, clutching his elbow to his chest.

“Hey, are you okay?” Yunho sounded worried as he walked over, crouching down.

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s broken.” The guy said and Yunho pursed his lips, looking alright with his answer, however, he still went and helped him off the ground, muttering something to the guy as he nodded and grabbed his skateboard before going off.

“What’d you say to him?” I asked curiously, looking up at Yunho with my eyebrows raised. He cleared his throat and ran his long fingers through his hair, the redness from his ears spreading to his neck now.

“That he should go to the doctor, it might not be broken but you know…a smaller rupture or something might still have happened.” Yunho explained and I hummed, looking around as I didn’t know what to say or do. The kids were slowly going home, the skatepark emptying, streetlamps illuminating the streets as the sun was gone now. It was time for me to head home.

“I have to—”

“Would you like to—”

Yunho and I looked at each other with our eyes wide, both a little embarrassed for speaking over the other. I could feel my face heat up and I looked down at the ground, stepping on the heel of my skateboard in order to hold it up, to have something to distract myself with.

“Sorry, you go first.” Yunho said, voice quiet as a car honked loudly as it narrowly avoided another one that just stopped without putting the hazard lights on.

“Oh,” I licked my lips before looking up at Yunho, for a second captured by his chocolate brown eyes. His silver-greenish-bluish hair was out of his eyes today, swept back a little messily with a middle part at his forehead, strands wavier than yesterday or the day before. It softened his features in a sweet way, “No, uhm, were you going to ask me something?”

“Yeah, I—” Yunho took his bottom lip between his teeth, hesitating for a second, “Would you like to grab something from the convenience store? Soda or anything else…”

I pursed my lips, calculating in my head whether I had enough money on me to go spend it at the convenience store, however, Yunho mistook my silence as a refusal, his cheeks instantly inflaming hot pink, “You don’t have to! I’m sorry, that was too much, I—I know we just met a few days ago, but—”

“I’d like to go, Yunho.” I cut his panicked ramble off, smiling at him amused. Yunho gaped for a second longer at me, but then he shut his mouth and chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. Why did he have to look so cute whenever he did that?

“Oh, cool, there’s a store right across the street.” Yunho pointed behind me, making me look back. Huh, I haven’t even noticed the convenience store before, but perhaps that’s because the windows were dusted up and there were no signs indicating that it was still in function, “Oh, it looks dodgy from the outside but they even have arcade games inside! I really like that place.”

“Sure, let’s go then.” I shrugged and offered Yunho a wide smile, taking off towards the exit of the park, “But I can’t stay for long, my mother will be worried about me no matter how many texts I send that I’m fine.”

Yunho’s chuckle mirrored mine behind me, and I pushed the gate open, stepping aside and holding the door open for Yunho. He thanked me and walked ahead, waiting for me at the crossroad. It took me a second to notice his cardigan, which was blue and super fluffy, and its hood had ears. It looked cute—why was everything cute about this guy? I quickly averted my eyes off Yunho when he turned to check that I was still keeping up with him—walking behind him, since his legs are too long and I can’t keep up with him—slowing down a little when he noticed I was struggling to hold my skateboard and also keep up his pace.

“Do you want me to carry that for you?” He asked with a smile, pointing at the skateboard.

“Ah, no, I got this.” I grinned, giving him a thumps-up, making Yunho chuckle as he quickly turned his head, muttering something to himself. As we arrived in front of the store, Yunho pushed the door open for me this time and stepped aside, ushering me inside. The place was actually well lit and there was a nice vanilla scent wafting through the air. I smiled as the clerk greeted us, beckoning us further inside. The walls were a neon yellow and fridge after fridge lined up against it, a few tables stern across in the middle of the space. It wasn’t a huge store, just enough for about ten people to fit inside. But the arcade Yunho talked about was nowhere to be seen.

“So, where’s that arcade at, huh?” I teased as I followed Yunho to a fridge, his grin so wide it stretched across his whole face. He sneaked a glance my way before turning towards a door I assumed were the toilets, and pointed one long finger at it.

“Beyond that door.” He answered and the opened the fridge, grabbing one strawberry milk for himself. I hummed and pursed my lips as I looked through the window of the fridges, trying to decide what I was craving. And chocolate milk was the winner as I grinned while grabbing it out of the fridge. The music wasn’t too loud inside the store, just the right volume if you wanted to have a conversation without bothering others or getting overheard. Yunho stood by the front desk, apparently conversing with the clerk, the two huddled close together. I narrowed my eyes at the two as I approached, propping my skateboard up against the sturdy wood of the front desk. The clerk cleared his throat upon noticing me and pulled back, plastering a generic smile on his face. His sharp eyes weren’t the friendliest, but he didn’t seem malicious.

“What’d you get?” Yunho asked as he looked down at me, still leaning against the front desk, arms crossed and resting on the wooden table. I placed my chocolate milk next to his strawberry one and smiled.

“Chocolate milk, haven’t had it in a really long time.” Well—does one consider three days ago a long time ago? Because I do, certainly. Yunho hummed and then faced the clerk again, nudging his head in the direction of our items.

“Think you can put them on my tab, Joong?” Yunho’s grin held mischief as he snickered in the clerk’s direction, who’s eyes narrowed.

“This isn’t a bar, Yunho, no, I can’t put it on your tab.” The clerk’s voice held exasperation as he heaved a long sigh, “You still haven’t paid for your last purchase—”

“Hey! I thought we had an agreement about that one!” Yunho exclaimed, looking offended as the clerk just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Fine, but next time you are paying for every item you have bought from me and haven’t paid for yet this month.” Yunho giggled—actually giggled and something in my stomach coiled at the warm and cute sound of it—as he grabbed our strawberry and chocolate milks, winking at the clerk.

“I won’t be coming around too soon, then, Joong.” The clerk just rolled his eyes again and grabbed for his phone from his hoodie’s pocket.

“We’ll see about that spider—I mean—spidey obsessed dude.” I laughed a little at the clerk’s words, however it quickly died down when I saw the way Yunho froze and the clerk’s eyes widened just a fraction. Sensing the sudden weird tension in the air, I cleared my throat and grabbed my chocolate milk out of Yunho’s hand.

“Thank you for your generosity—” I raised my eyebrows, not feeling it adequate to call the clerk by the nickname Yunho did.

“Hongjoong,” It was Yunho who answered though, the clerk seemed a little uncomfortable all of a sudden, “He’s a good friend of mine, so don’t worry about it.”

“Good friend of mine,” Hongjoong, the clerk, mocked with a grimace, “We’ve known each other since they day you were born, you idiot.”

“Hey, so what?!” Yunho stuck his tongue out, and before I could thank Hongjoong properly for letting me have a free strawberry milk, Yunho was gripping my arm and pulling me towards the table furthest from the front desk. In a haste, I grabbed my skateboard and grinned at Hongjoong, bowing my head a little as he blinked before offering me the smallest smile I’ve ever seen. Well, what a colourful personality this shorter guy had.

Yunho was seemingly eager to reach our table as he had plopped down into a seat just as we got to it, excitedly opening his strawberry milk, making me chuckle. I placed my own chocolate milk on the table, not noticing how close it was to the edge as I placed my skateboard on the floor, and then shrugged my jacket off. It was warm enough inside to get rid of it, and so, as I went to put my jacket on the back of my chair, I accidentally knocked my hand into my chocolate milk, sending it towards the ground. However, as I gasped and went to reach for it, Yunho’s hand was already extended, small carton held securely in his big hand. I blinked, staring at Yunho for a second before I placed the jacket on the back of the chair and took a seat opposite him.

“Thanks.” I muttered as he extended the chocolate milk towards me, only just now noticing that the nail on his left ring finger was painted a dark blue. I tried to fight the blush that threatened to bloom on my cheeks as our fingers touched, eyes trained onto the table and subsequently on Yunho’s hands as they were both resting on top of it. He wore a few black rings and his whole outfit was casual wear once again, yet it looked really well put together. As I fiddled with the lid of my chocolate milk, I tried to ignore how hot Yunho’s hand felt again, and blamed it on the fact that my hands were always cold, “You’ve got some really nice reflexes, Yunho.”

My eyebrows raised as Yunho choked on his strawberry milk, coughing a little as he hit his chest a few times, struggling to regulate his breaths again. Well—I suppose I must have said something wrong, then? However, I failed to understand what exactly that I said was—well, wrong or triggering.

“Yeah, sorry,” Yunho cleared his throat at last, chugging half of his strawberry milk down, “thank you, I—uh, I’ve always been, uh, fast?”

“Is that a question?” I asked with a chuckle, pushing the little straw inside the little bottle before I took a small sip.

“No! I—” Yunho smacked his lips together, ears red once again, “I do have good reflexes, you’re right. Not many people notice.”

“I mean,” I chuckled, smiling at him, “that’s weird since it’s so obvious.”

“It is?” Yunho asked confused, scratching the back of his head.

“A little bit.” I whispered, averting my eyes as I became shy under Yunho’s watchful gaze. He was a tiny bit intimidating, but overall, really nice—and cute, damn it.

“So,” Yunho cleared his throat, keen on changing the subject, “How do you like it here?”

I shrugged, placing my hands on the table as I started playing with my rings, “I haven’t even been here for a week yet, but—it’s fine? I suppose—I mean, it could be a lot worse.”

“Don’t like where you live?” When my eyebrows furrowed, Yunho seemed to choke a little on his strawberry milk again, “I mean—the neighbourhood! Or like—your neighbours or—something.”

“Yeah,” I chuckled, finding it a little endearing how easily flustered Yunho got. In school we couldn’t talk for long as his friends would always interrupt us, boisterous and loud for no reason, “You are quite spot on with that, what gave you the hint?”

“Oh, I,” Yunho gestured around, shrugging a little, “figured since you were at the skatepark. It’s not that big nor very equipped. Others would want to go the central one, close to the big mall.”

“There’s one there too?” I quirked up in interest, “I have missed riding around, so I wasn’t in a search for a skatepark necessarily, you see, I came across this one randomly. And I’m glad I did, because I saw some really cool tricks the others were doing.”

“How long have you been skating for?” Yunho asked in interest, leaning forward, chin resting on his intertwined hands.

“Uhm,” I hummed, looking up towards the ceiling as I tried to count the years, “Ten, maybe? But I only ever skated for fun.”

“It’s a pretty cool skill and hobby to have.” Yunho grinned, eyes falling onto my skateboard as I placed my right leg on top of it, smiling at his compliment, “And I’ve also noticed that you like reading?”

“Oh,” I flushed a little, biting the straw of my chocolate milk before I took a gulp, “yeah, I really like reading—mangas.”

“Really?!” Yunho exclaimed, shouting over the smooth melody playing from the radio. I sneaked a glance towards Hongjoong, and quite frankly, wasn’t surprised to see him watching Yunho with narrowed eyes, it almost made me chuckle at how oblivious—or uncaring—Yunho was towards Hongjoong’s apparent annoyance with him.

“Really.” I chuckled, raising my eyebrows, “Why are you so excited, you also like mangas?”

“Oh, well, not me—not that I have anything against them! They are like super cool and such!” Yunho rambled on, averting his eyes as I tried to fight my amused grin off my face, “Mangas are cool, is what I’m trying to say, however, it’s my best friend that really likes them.”

“Hongjoong?” I asked interested, happy to have something to talk about with Hongjoong since I would be returning to this store as it was straight across the skatepark.

“Mingi, actually.” Yunho muttered, slumping back in his seat, “You know, our classmate.”

“Oh, Song Mingi?” Meaning, the guy that’s been staring daggers at me anytime Yunho even as much as came in my vicinity? I figured this Mingi guy wasn’t a huge a fan of me, not that I could do anything about it, really. If some people wanted to believe the rumours, I couldn’t do anything about that.

“Him, yeah,” Yunho muttered, pursing his lips, “I promise he’s not a douche even if he acts like it at times—”

“All the time.” I added with a chuckle, making Yunho look away.

“He’ll warm up to you.” He tried to cheer me up, but I just shrugged.

“And if he doesn’t, it’s fine, Yunho.” I reassured him with another smile, “It’s not like we can like everyone.”

“True, but—now that you two have something in common he will give in to you, trust me.” Yunho looked quite convinced and I just chuckled as I nodded once, taking some more sips of my chocolate milk.

“So, if Mingi and I like reading mangas, what do you like, Yunho?” I raised my eyebrows, definitely ignoring the way my heartrate picked up when an abashed smile stretched onto Yunho’s lips and he looked up through his lashes at me.

“Video games, like, a lot.” There was an excited glint in Yunho’s eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair, “I eat and breathe video games.”

I giggled and nodded as Yunho went on a short rant about his favourite video games and which were best to play if you were a beginner—like me—and which were more challenging and not too nerve-wrecking as he apparently had a problem of controlling his rage when playing video games. Which seemed so unnatural of Yunho, who was always calm and sweet, nice, and helpful to everyone. Not that I had known him for long, but the more time I spent with him, the quicker I realized that he truly is the way he portrays himself to be. I laughed as Yunho retold a story of him being so mad at losing a game that he scared his dog, which then jumped off the bed and got tangled in the wires, and almost completely destroyed Yunho’s TV. Well, I suppose Yunho learned not to rage in front of his dog after that day—if he wanted to keep his TV intact.

We had both long finished our respective drinks and as I had glanced down at my phone, I realized it was late—my mother would whoop my ass for staying out for so long. Hongjoong didn’t look too happy either as Yunho and I got ready to leave, and I threw an apologetic smile at him as Yunho stayed back for a few minutes. I stood in front of the store, waiting for Yunho, just enjoying the chilly air as the wind blew through the streets of the city.

“Okay, let’s go.” Yunho said once he joined me outside, smiling.

“Where do you live?” I asked, pushing my hands in the pockets of my jacket.

“Around.” Yunho’s answer was short and then he motioned down the sidewalk, “Let’s go, I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to!” I squeaked, growing embarrassed all of a sudden, “I don’t want to bother you. It’s already late, your parents must be worried.”

“They certainly aren’t,” Yunho chuckled, leaning down to be eye level with me, “they are out on a date tonight and they aren’t coming back until late into the night. So, let’s go.”

“Oh,” I muttered, biting my bottom lip and before I could grab my skateboard, it was already in Yunho’s hands as he skipped down the sidewalk happily. I chuckled and followed after him, having to jog to actually catch up with his long strides, “You know, Yunho, not everyone was blessed with long legs like yours.”

Yunho’s ears turned red again as he instantly slowed down, scratching his nape, “Right, sorry. Sometimes I forget I’m tall and like—super quick too.”

“You’re like the Flash or something.” I teased with a chuckle, however, Yunho’s eyebrows furrowed and he was suddenly pouting.

“The Flash?” He asked, sounding almost offended, “He’s not even that cool, Y/N.”

“Is he not?” I deadpanned, raising my eyebrows at Yunho.

“He really isn’t.” Yunho huffed, cheeks puffing out even more, making him look adorable despite him sulking.

“Well then, who do you think is cool, Yunho?” I asked, genuinely interested about his opinion.

“Spiderman, of course!” He exclaimed as if that were obvious, making me scoff.

“You don’t even know who the guy is.” I muttered, as we stopped at a red light.

“Do you know who the Flash is?” Yunho’s eyes narrowed as he stared down at me, and I huffed.

“Well, no, but—I don’t know, I’m new to the city. I don’t know anything about Spiderman, of course I’m biased towards someone else.” I ended up explaining my reasoning and Yunho just hummed as the red light turned green and we crossed the road.

“Well, let me help you out, then.” Yunho grinned and suddenly grabbed my jacket, steering me away from a lamppost. I chuckled in embarrassment and thanked him quietly before he could continue talking, “So, Spiderman is like—super cool, you know? He helps the city whenever something really bad happens. He like—you know—he makes order. Puts bad people in jail and saves innocent civilians. Also! He doesn’t just save people, he helps old people cross the road, rescues poor animals living on the streets, even feeds pigeons! And I’ve seen him once cleaning the windows of a really high building since everybody else refused to go up that high. And he takes pictures with children, you know? Shows up at the city’s fair and has never once turned down an invitation from the mayor to represent the good force of the city alongside with the cops, of course.”

As Yunho took a deep breath, having rushed all that out in one breath, I couldn’t help but burst out laughing, having to press a hand against my mouth to muffle the sounds. I’ve never seen Yunho as passionate about something—except for video games—before, and as hilarious he looked with his eyebrows furrowed and lips pouting every few seconds—fuck, he was just as cute—so cute in fact, that I nearly tripped over nothing, but he was too lost in his excitement to notice, thankfully. Having slightly calmed down my heart, I glanced at Yunho, amused to see him clutching my skateboard against his chest, giving me a small glare.

“I’m sorry,” I said with a chuckle, clearing my throat, “You just sound an awful lot like you have a crush on Spiderman.”

Yunho scoffed, but he couldn’t fight the smile off his lips anymore, “Everyone has a crush on Spiderman, don’t you too?”

“I don’t know him well enough to have a crush on him just yet.” Yunho’s eyes narrowed for a split second.

“Yet, you say?”

“Yet, I say.”

And then I watched as Yunho turned the corner, skipping a few steps ahead as he led the way down my street, headed towards my house. I don’t think I remember having told him about where I live?

            Yunho’s generosity seemed to be endless—and perhaps I was already starting to get used to, which, wasn’t exactly smart on my part. Yes, he was tall, handsome, boyish, and super cute with a personality of gold, but—was I sure my mother and I would actually settle down here? Was it really smart to start crushing on my classmate? Who I’m sure everyone in this damned high-school has a crush on, because he’s really just that nice and that sweet. Teachers love him, his peers admire him and want to be around him all the time, his friends are protective of him and—don’t like me, that’s now one hundred percent sure. Why? Well, because, I was just as baffled as they were this morning when upon entering the classroom, Yunho was out of his seat, completely abandoning the conversation he was having with San in order to approach me. I—of course, like a deer caught in headlights—froze in my spot, thus blocking the entrance to the classroom—making a guy almost run into me as he was on his phone, not paying attention to what was happening in front of him. But Yunho didn’t seem to mind my momentary shock as he grinned from ear to ear, his hair very fluffy as it was even wavier than yesterday, his outfit making me gulp before I managed to compose myself and force a smile onto my lips. He wore grey tech pants with a white shirt—top two butting undone—and a grey cardigan over it and—oh, he wore a fucking silver necklace at the base of his throat, that paired with his black rings for sure made me forget what planet Earth is for a second—or two—who knows, my brain wasn’t processing well at the moment.

And to render me even more speechless, Yunho draped an arm around my shoulders and completely nonchalantly veered me towards his friends. Choi San and Song Mingi. I saw the look on their faces—a mixture of surprise and well, disgust—but San was quick to mask it with a cordial smile, while Mingi—well, he didn’t, not that I expected him to do so. And then before either could say something, Yunho announced that he’d be sitting with me in our English literature class, making me stare at him in surprise—mirroring San and Mingi’s baffled expressions. Why did I have a feeling that right now I was their number one enemy? And then, to try and appease them, I bowed and muttered a quiet ‘sorry’, before Yunho was already walking us to my usual seat, making me lick my lips as I tried to ignore the sudden nerves engulfing my whole body. And what was worse, was the fact that I could feel Mingi’s glare boring into the back of my mind during the whole class, making me scared to look back when the teacher announced that we’d have to do a project with our seatmate. Which—to my delight, but poor overreactive heart—made Yunho so excited he almost knocked over my water bottle as he started animatedly explaining which book we should choose and why. Before the bell could even ring, Mingi was out the door with a loud scoff, and San was rolling his eyes as he slowly approached us, muttering something about Mingi overreacting—again.

Currently, however, we were in the canteen, trays in our hands full of food as Mingi lead the way, his form just as tall as Yunho’s, but shoulders a little broader than Yunho’s. Not that I have paid extra close attention to Yunho’s form or anything—you know. San and Yunho were having a heated debate whether the Yorkshire Terrier or Bull Terrier was cutest, making San whine about not wanting a puppy anymore because of Yunho—which was actually hilarious to hear as I saw zero to no similarities between the two breeds, except the fact that both were named Terriers.

“Just get a cat, oh, my God, San.” Mingi snapped loudly as he slammed his tray down against a table—smaller in size than the others and more at the back of the canteen—looking up with a small glare at San, “Can you two not argue for one second?”

“What’s got your panties in a twist today, Ming?” San chuckled, raising an eyebrow as I felt a little awkward while Yunho took a seat across from Mingi. San went to sit next to Yunho, and for a second, I considered excusing myself and just sitting by myself rather than having to sit next to Mingi knowing he’d rather die—or something—than sit next to me. But, to my rescue, Yunho cleared his throat and looked at San expectantly, who quickly got the memo and chuckled, “Right.”

Then he moved to sit next to Mingi and I gulped as I took my seat next to Yunho, feeling like I was intruding—which I probably was and as if Mingi had the same train of thought, he directed a quick glare at me.

“Didn’t know we’d have to mingle with others today, is all.” He answered San’s previous question and I gulped as I looked down, placing my hands in my lap.

“Okay, Mingi.” Yunho snapped, his tone harsh—and it was surprising, I’ve never heard him speak like that before, “We’re allowed to make new friends, are we not?”

Mingi scoffed and then stuffed his mouth with a spoonful of rice, “Yeah, with people who aren’t criminals.”

“Mingi, that’s enough.” It was San talking now, face hardened and eyebrows furrowed before he looked at me, expression softening, “We don’t even know her.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll just go.” I said with a sigh, about to grab my tray when suddenly Yunho’s hand grabbed mine, eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at me.

“You’re not going anywhere,” He said, sounding quite authoritative and determined to keep me there, “Let’s play a game where we ignore Mingi, how’s that sound?”

“I don’t—”

“Oh, I really like the sound of that.” San said with a mischievous chuckle as he nudged Mingi in the side, making him roll his eyes before he wordlessly dug into his meal, going completely silent, “And at the same time I don’t like the sound of silence, so—how do you like it here, Y/N?”

I struggled to not choke on the spoonful of soup I had just taken into my mouth, a little surprised that one of Yunho’s best friends’ was addressing me directly, “Oh, I, uhm—it’s fine. I mean…the kids are nice here. Sort of.” The last part I only added in a quiet mutter, but Mingi heard it and chuckled, giving me a smirk that felt a little bit malicious. However, his expression quickly changed as he yelped, jumping in his seat before fixating his glare onto Yunho, eyes narrowing, but Yunho just continued eating like nothing happened.

“Yeah, we…weren’t the nicest, sorry about that.” San’s cheeks tinged pink as he lowered his head a little, “I was raised to know better than to judge someone so easily, so, I’d like to apologise.”

My eyes widened when San raised his head, eyes shining with sincerity and regret. I suddenly felt awkward—well, my day certainly was taking a turn for the—better? I couldn’t tell just yet. I chuckled, shaking my head as I tried to play off San’s apology, it wasn’t that big of a deal, really, “Don’t worry about it, I get it. But for the record—I have zero DNA that ties me to that evil fucker, in fact, I played the biggest part in his case as I had been victim to his—abuse.”

A tense silence fell upon the table and suddenly I gulped, feeling terrible for trauma dumping so much on these three guys. Well, if they thought they could end up liking me up until a few seconds ago, the certainly wouldn’t think so anymore. What a way to ruin something going well for myself for once. I cleared my throat, and averted my eyes when Mingi raised his head, his eyebrows were furrowed, eyes taking me in intensely. Yunho’s body emitted a lot of warmth next to me all of a sudden, and he sighed loudly, shooting a very displeased look towards his two friends, “I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to force you to share anything you didn’t want—”

“I wanted you to know, though.” I found myself saying, biting my bottom lip nervously, “I don’t exactly care what the rumours say about me, but I feel angry when I hear people associate me with that monster. He’s a terrible man and he deserves to be locked up somewhere far away from society. He’s not my father and he would’ve never been, even if my mother did end up marrying him.”

“You’re really mature for someone our age.” San commented, lips stretched into a warm and friendly smile, “Not that we aren’t mature! Actually! I am the most mature one in our friend group, you know—”

“Like hell you are.” Mingi muttered before he averted his eyes, going back to eating his lunch.

“I am always the responsible one, looking out for these two idiots—” But San ignored Mingi and then pointed at the two tall best friends, “These two are always wreaking havoc, especially Yunho! He’s all sweet and so kind, but he’s really just hiding his mischievous side. One time, in eight grade, he broke our homeroom teacher car’s windshield and—”

“Okay, enough oversharing, San!” Yunho exclaimed alarmed, crossing his arms in front of his chest in an ‘X’ manner, making me laugh as I looked at him then back at San, who had his lips pursed and eyes narrowed.

“Remember Mingi, when he stole that manga for you from the corner bookstore?” San smirked, nudging Mingi lightly, who had a frighteningly similar smirk to San’s crossing his features as he looked up.

“Oh, I do. And remember when he absolutely destroyed Mrs. Kwan’s garden while riding his bike?”

“Enough, okay?!” Yunho exclaimed, his neck, ears, and cheeks flushed a deep red, eyebrows furrowed. I pressed a palm against my mouth, trying to muffle my bubbling laughter, but when San and Mingi simultaneously wiggled their eyebrows at Yunho, I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I burst out laughing, slowly San—and surprisingly—Mingi joined us too while Yunho sulked, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“It’s not funny!” He exclaimed, grabbing a chicken wing with his hand and biting into it, staring off to the side.

“Oh, this guy was an absolute rascal when we were younger.” Mingi said, still laughing as he threw a pickle towards Yunho, who frowned at him and quickly ate it. I chuckled, amused by the three. Okay, if they weren’t glaring and sending me displeased looks, San and Mingi could be really cool guys.

“Now I see why you’re so obsessed with Spiderman.” I said with a chuckle, grinning at Yunho as I turned my head to look at him. His cheeks were still red and his lips jutting out, he looked so adorable it was hard to hold myself back from squishing his cheeks. San’s laughter, however, very slowly died down and Mingi—surprisingly—choked on the bite he just took of his meal, having to grab his water bottle and drink in order soothe his coughs, “He’s everything you weren’t. Having him as a role model might turn you into a better man.”

“Hey!” Yunho scoffed, playfully pushing my shoulder, sending a very non-threatening glare at me, “Spiderman is just simply cool, okay? I don’t have a crush on him or anything, I just—are you saying I’m not a good person?”

“What?!” I asked alarmed, completely oblivious to the amused glances San and Mingi were exchanging between each other as Yunho narrowed his eyes at me, “I never said that! You’re—cool.”

“Like Spiderman.” Yunho added with a wink and I scoffed, going back to eating my—now—cold soup.

“I see you are acquittanced with Spiderman, then.” San mused, finally eating his meal as well, it must’ve gone cold by now. I nodded as I finished eating my soup, sneaking glances at Yunho as his attention suddenly was on the TV mounted on the wall a few feet away. His eyebrows were furrowed and so, I looked to see what was bothering him, only to be met with a pretty bad looking bank robbery. A dozen of police cars were in front of the bank and—oh, no, an armed man held someone at gunpoint. The sound was muted, but I could guess that the armed man was holding an innocent by-passer. It brought a sour taste into my mouth as I averted my eyes, skin crawling a little at the memory of my mother’s ex doing something similar, yet so much worse. Mingi and San seemed to notice Yunho’s shift in mood and both turned to look at the TV, sighing when they saw what Yunho was looking at.

“I swear to God,” Mingi started muttering, turning his head away, “There’s always something fucked up happening every other day in this city…”

“I know,” San muttered, crestfallen, “I can’t count how many times my parents planned on moving away somewhere safer.”

I gulped, hoping my mother wouldn’t want to do the same. We’ve barely been here for five days, but—I started liking it here. There was something about this place that wasn’t as awful as I initially expected it to be. Did Yunho play a part in that to make me think so?

“Hey, I—I have to go to the washroom, don’t wait for me.” Yunho sounded nervous as he scrambled out of his seat, gulping as he paused for a second, “I’ll see you all in class.”

“Are you okay?” I found myself asking before Yunho could rush off.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me!” His smile seemed forced and my eyebrows furrowed as he hurried away, towards the exit of the canteen, sprinting out of sight. My eyes went back to the TV just in time to see everyone crouched down as the armed man, no doubt, fired some shots.

“Hey, you don’t have to look at that.” San offered, voice soft, “We can change seats, if you want.”

“Oh—no, thank you.” My cheeks turned red as I averted my eyes, offering San a small smile, “And uh—thanks for letting me sit with you guys, I know you don’t like me much.”

“Well, we’ve got all year to get to know each other, right, Mingi?” San threw a pointed look at his best friend and I was surprised to find him humming absentmindedly, pushing around his food.

“He always does this,” Mingi sighed, sounding worried, “disappears randomly whenever something bad is happening in the city.”

“Yunho?” I found myself asking in a whisper, but neither heard me.

“I told you so many times you’re reading too much into it, he just probably needs to take a dump or something—” San paused, cheeks flushing as he eyed me, but I acted like I didn’t hear what he had just said. Boys will be boys, I guess, “Anyways, break ends in fifteen, let’s finish up.”

So then, Yunho disappears often? Is that what Mingi was alluding to? But where to? And why only when something bad is happening in the city?

“Yeah, whatever.” Mingi muttered, pushing his tray of food away, knocking it into Yunho’s. He eyed his best friend’s tray and then sighed, leaning back in his chair as his eyes went back to the TV. And because I couldn’t help myself, I looked back too and—there he was, Spiderman. Saving the day, apparently. I guess he really is a hero.

“Hey, Y/N,” San spoke up again, mouth stuffed with food, cheeks puffed out, “I’ve seen you reading manga in class. Mingi likes it too, did you know?”

My eyes widened as I turned my head back towards the two boys sitting across me and chuckled, a little embarrassed, I wasn’t a good liar, “Oh, I, uh, nope. I didn’t know. Wow, that’s so…cool!”

Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed for a second, looking suspicious, “Yeah, cool.”

“Yup, cool.” I chuckled and then shut up because I didn’t want to further embarrass myself.

            And after we went to class, with Mingi sitting in the back with a rather gruff classmate of ours and San at the front with a guy I haven’t yet met, I got soon lost in my thoughts, eyes fixated on a vacant spot. Yunho’s usual spot. He hadn’t returned to class; half an hour had passed since he had gone to the washroom—that is if I actually believed he was at the washroom. It was less likely, but then again, why would he lie? And just as if my thoughts were synchronized with Yunho’s actions, the door was flung open and there he was, breathless, as he made his way inside.

“Sorry for being late!” He apologizes, plastering on a sheepish smile, “I—got caught up?”

The teacher narrowed her eyes for a second before muttering something and ushering Yunho towards his spot. I kept my eyes on him, taking him in as his clothes looked a little dishevelled and—was that a faint bruise on his cheek? But before I could dwell more about it, Yunho—probably having sensed my insistent stare—turned his head and smiled widely, his wavy hair falling in his chocolate brown eyes. My heart skipped a beat—stupid heart! And then, Yunho waved quickly and turned around before the teacher could chastise him for that too. God, why did he have to be so damn cute all the time?!

            The first week in the big, new, city was slightly unnerving and overall, a very new feeling, however, despite that, I found myself enjoying it once I got accustomed to my surroundings. Of course, my mom won’t let me out after six o’clock in the afternoon due to the unsafety of the neighbourhood we live in, but the skatepark just two blocks down certainly is a nice stress reliever. School wasn’t too bad by the second week either, less people paid attention to me and whispered about me when I passed them in the hallways, and—besides the fact that Yunho seems to never want to stay away from me for too long—which is freaking cute and certainly so very bad as I have the fattest crush on him—by now, even San and Mingi have started warming up to me. Of course, Mingi still remains his unimpressed and emotionless self—unless Yunho is there with us—but I did manage to make him crack a smile here and there—mostly when we are talking about our favourite mangas and such. San, on the other hand, is a completely different story. After Yunho left me with him and Mingi in the canteen—you know, when he mysteriously disappeared for half an hour while there was a bank robbery going on—ever since then, San has been very happy each time the boys would hang out with me. And what was even more surprising, is that he sought out my company when he was on his own—mostly bored—and so very eager to tell me every and each cool story he manages to remember about Yunho, or himself, sometimes even Mingi. San is actually quite good at diffusing the tension created by Mingi, and he is even better at talking for hours on end without realising that Yunho—and I—have gotten tired of hearing his voice so often. But do not misunderstand, Yunho absolutely adores San, and I also happen to quite like him. He’s sweet, but fierce and unapologetically honest. Much like Mingi, which makes me think they are Yunho’s closest friends because he is too nice for his own good and would get taken advantage of if it weren’t for the two hounding him like some sort of guardians or something.  

As I clutched my phone in my left hand, rolling a pencil around in my right one, I froze for a second as I heard footsteps outside of my room, down the hallway. My door was closed as I was studying—well, actually, it’s just an excuse to be able to be on my phone without my mother seeing me every time she passes by my room. However, I halted my movements as shuffling came from right outside my door, and I panickedly tried to hide my phone underneath the two textbooks and three notebooks I had laying on my desk, pretending to be super confused about the equation I had to solve, as I started pouting just as my mother opened my door.

“Hey,” She called with a smile, making me put on my best clueless act, “how’s studying going?”

“Ugh, I hate maths.” I groaned and threw my pencil on the desk as I leaned back in my seat, “Can’t I just go to the skatepark? Please, mom.”

“Honey,” My mother chuckled, leaning against the doorway with an amused grin on her lips, “that skatepark isn’t going anywhere, however, if you fail your maths class…you might have to transfer to a new school—”

“No!” I didn’t mean to shout as I shoot up straight in my chair, blushing furiously as my mother raised her eyebrows at me. God dammit, this stupid crush I have on Yunho has me acting up—even though changing high-schools does sound awful. I’ve barely been at this one for two weeks, I can’t be changing schools so soon.

“Well, if you don’t want to fail, you know what to do.” My mother said with a chuckle as I tried to hide my blush. My eyes widened when my phone started buzzing underneath all the notebooks and textbooks. God, Yunho, texting back right now isn’t the smartest idea! But of course, he can’t know that my mother is standing in my doorway, under the impression that her daughter it studying her ass off, “Dinner’s ready in an hour.”

“Cool, I’ll join you once I’ve finished this exercise.” I shot my mom a quick smile, trying not to grimace as my phone buzzed again.

“Sure,” She snorted and pushed off the doorway, gripping the doorknob as she stepped out in the hallway, “giving me your phone would make you more productive, though.”

“What phone?” I forced on a grin that showed off all my teeth, making my mother shake her head at me as she left the room, closing my door behind her. I slumped in my chair and reached for my phone, clumsily pulling it out from underneath all of my things while creating a mess—nothing new—my room is always a mess, especially my desk. But as I went to check the messages Yunho had sent, there was a soft tapping against my window, and when I turned my head to look outside—I almost screamed.

I managed to just barely muffle it by pressing my hand against my gaping mouth as freaking Spiderman hung upside down outside my window, head tilted to the side. I took a second to digest the fact that the spider, but human like, creature was right there, waving at me and no doubt smiling as I saw the mask move underneath where his mouth is. I huffed and stood, patting my chest as my heart raced furiously against my ribcage, having been scared shitless by this Spiderman guy. I unlocked the window and pushed it upwards, opening it up for him. I watched as the web string he had hung on broke as he did a flip, landing on his two long feet. I froze a little as Spiderman leaned in, resting both elbows in the windowsill, placing his chin on his palm.

“Hi.” His voice was slightly altered again, and I cleared my throat, aware that I was wearing my worst possible clothes. I wasn’t expecting visitors—let alone Spiderman, “You look like you saw a ghost or something.”

“Well, yeah,” I scoffed, smoothing down my hair, “not a ghost, but a man that calls himself a spider. Ringing the front door next time would be less heart attack inducing, Mr. Spiderman.”

I didn’t expect the dude to laugh loudly, and my eyes widened as I reached forward, pressing my hand against his masked mouth to muffle the sounds he made—if my mother hears him, she’ll come to investigate, and I’m pretty sure she won’t be too happy to find a masked man in a full body costume outside my window, claiming to be some sort of hero of the city or something. My mother has never liked these superhero kind of things.

“Yeah, don’t call me Mr. Spiderman, please, it’s really cringey.” The spidey boy shivered and I chuckled, raising my eyebrows at him.

“Why? Aren’t you a man? Why would you call yourself Spiderman if you’re not a man?” The guy remained silent for a second before he started giggling, the voice modulator not doing a very good job at altering his voice. And for a second—but just for a second—I thought it sounded like Yunho’s giggles.

“I’m a man, well…almost a man.” Spiderman paused and I gave him a confused look, “I’m only eighteen, so not quite a man just yet.”

“You’re eighteen?!” I exclaimed, glancing back to make sure my mother wouldn’t come in like a bulldozer.

“Too old for you?” Spiderman asked with a chuckle, and I narrowed my eyes at him. I swear I can hear the smirk in his voice.

“You’re the same age as me, dipshit.” I scoffed, leaning away from the window.

“Well, that’s certainly a special way to express your gratitude to the man that’s saved you once.” I bit my bottom lip, averting my eyes from the guy that was standing outside my window.

“So, do you stalk every person you manage to save?” I instead asked, trying to dodge the fact that I should be apologising for the not so nice thing I called him.

“I’m not stalking you.” He chuckled, and then pushed himself away from the windowsill, “I’m just here to make sure you’re okay—and that you’re doing your maths homework—”

“Hey!” My eyes widened as I quickly glanced at my desk, “Were you eavesdropping too?”

“Maybe?” Spiderman sounded almost embarrassed as he scratched the back of his neck, and I narrowed my eyes at him as I scoffed.

“Well, spidey boy, as you can see, I am doing just fine.” I raised my arms and did a mocking twirl for him, then placed my hands on my hips as I gave him a deadpanned look, “Anything else that I can satisfy your creepy needs with?”

“I’m not creepy!” He exclaimed quickly, making me scoff, “Okay, fine, whatever. Coming to your window maybe wasn’t very smart, but I—uh, well, do you trust me?”

“No?” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at him as if he were crazy. Spiderman heaved a loud and long sigh and then extended a hand towards me, through the open window. I crooked an eyebrow at him curiously.

“I want to show you something.” His voice was soft, the voice modulator failed to do its job again, and I found his voice to be—soothing, warm. I gulped, crossing my arms in front of my chest, “I promise you’re safe with me. I saved you once, and I’ll do it as many times I have to.”

“That very weirdly sounds like it could be a love confession, Spiderman.” I said mockingly, but found my legs carrying me closer towards him. I glanced down at my phone to check the clock, and was surprised to see that in half an hour it would be six, “My curfew is at six, though, because of the neighbourhood and my mother not trusting the people yadda-yadda-yadda, so, we have to be back before six.”

“Yeah, that’s totally cool!” Spiderman clapped his hands together, sounding very excited. I chuckled and threw my phone on my bed, chewing my on my bottom lip when I realized I still haven’t texted Yunho back. I shouldn’t make him wait— “Are you coming, then?”

I looked back at Spiderman and took a deep breath—I’m sure Yunho will understand why I didn’t text back right away, I mean, I’m literally about to be kidnapped by Spiderman or whatever—okay, I do hope it’s not actually a kidnapping.

“Where are we going?” I asked as I accepted his extended hand, finding his costume soft to the touch. The white stripes that created the illusion of web on his costume were rougher to the touch, and I tried not to stumble as I climbed through my window, closing it so it wouldn’t look like I had climbed through it. Not that it would matter, if my mother comes inside my room while I’m not here, she’ll call the police in milliseconds.

“It’s a surprise.” Spiderman said cheekily, and his weird black eye winked at me, making me give him a disgusted look, “What?”

“Your eyes are—freaky.” I muttered as I released his hand, patting my clothes down. I adjusted the flannel shirt around my shoulders as they threatened to slip down them.

“You’re full of surprises, Y/N—” Spiderman froze and I did too as we stood staring at each other in silence. Well, I have never told him my name before. Just like I hadn’t told Yunho where I lived when he walked me home the first time from the skatepark.

“It seems like you’re full of surprises too, Spiderman.” I pursed my lips and he cleared his throat, scratching his nape, no doubt feeling awkward.

“Anyways, let’s go.” He extended his hand once again and I chewed on my bottom lip as I weighted my options. To be fair, there’s only two outcomes to this if I leave with him right now. One, he shows me this super awesome surprise, and it’ll be a memory to hold onto. Two, he fucking murders me.

I took a tiny step forward and slipped my hand slowly in his, just now noticing how long and thin his fingers were as they were covered by the red fabric of his costume. I truly hope to God the second option I have in mind doesn’t come to fruition. I might be dead as fuck, but my mother will make sure to kill me twice!

“So, uhm, you, uh, have to hold onto me.” Spiderman was suddenly stammering all over himself, and I narrowed my eyes as I stepped a little closer, allowing this spider boy to sloth his fingers through mine, “Yeah, you have to come a lot closer, actually.”

“Does this usually work?” I asked, stepping in front of him, barely a few inches between us. Jesus Christ, this dude is super tall?! I have to crane my neck to look up at him; his height scarily reminds me of Yunho’s. Not that I have had the chance to stand this close to Yunho before, but his and Mingi’s heights can be quite intimidating at times—especially if Mingi is glaring at you, looking like he wishes your soul would perish right in front of his very eyes. Not cool, nor fun!

“What’s supposed to work?” Spiderman asked, sounding confused.

“Well, this is how you pick up girls, no?” I raised my eyebrows, and I swear to God, Spiderman sputtered for a second.

“No! I—I’ve never done this before!” A small pause, and then more stammering, “I mean—I have! Like, wait, not picking up girls—I’m not doing this to pick you up! However, the thing I’m about to do, yeah, I do it every time I have the suit on. It would be concerning if I didn’t, actually.”

“I’m confused.” I muttered, staring at Spiderman’s broad chest. Jesus, this guy is well doted, alright.

“Whatever, just—hold onto me, tightly.” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked up at Spiderman, only to find him already looking down at me. I sighed and took a second to figure out how to hold onto him while also keeping my distance, and so, I grabbed his shoulders with both hands, gripping it tightly. Spiderman didn’t move just yet, but then I felt his left arm around my middle, pulling me into his body. I tensed and tried to ignore the way my heart started beating fast, a little bit surprised by how warm spidey boy felt against my own body.

And then, without zero fucking preparation, Spiderman released—better said, shot—web from his right wrist—God, I really hope this dude doesn’t actually release these things from his body—and I followed with my eyes the trajectory of the web. And then, I gulped, mouth falling open quickly as Spiderman tested the durability of the web by tugging on it a few times, and then, he threw me a quick glance before he jumped. He jumped up and then—he never fucking made it back to the ground. We didn’t make it back to the ground! I gasped loudly as Spiderman’s arm tightened even more around my middle, our bodies swinging in the fucking air.

And to be fair, if spider boy loses his hearing, it’s not my fault. I didn’t even realize I had started shrieking as Spiderman shot another web from his wrist—ew—the one currently holding us snapping in two, falling to the ground. Consequently, we were free-falling in the air for a second, until our bodies were violently yanked forward again, Spiderman’s web finding the wall of another building. And I was still shrieking—right into his ear—to make matters better.

Spiderman’s hearing after our little escapade? Positively gone.

But hearing his quiet giggle somehow helped in making me shut up after another long minute of me screaming my ass off, heart hammering wildly against my chest. This was not fun! I wanted to go back home! I wanted to—oh, no. I instantly felt nauseous as I made the grave mistake of looking down past Spiderman’s shoulders, coming to the realization that we were up in the air—high up in the air! And I have Acrophobia! I squeaked like a helpless mouse as suddenly I started sweating profusely, fingers digging into Spiderman’s shoulders until I found my arms slipping further up, circling his neck as I clung onto him tightly, our bodies pressed together almost painfully tight. My hands shook as I forced my legs to raise and wrap around his waist, hooking them together behind his ass, squeezing the living shit out of his hips with my thighs. This wasn’t fun! I wasn’t enjoying this! I really really don’t like this surprise and I want to go home right now! On the ground! On my feet! Where it’s safe and I won’t be falling to my death—oh God, stop thinking about that right now!

“I have Acrophobia, you dipshit!” I found myself screaming over the wind blowing in our faces, the sounds of the city underneath us loud and making me squeeze my eyes shut as freaking birds started flying next to us. What the fuck!?

“Oh, fuck.” I heard Spiderman hiss to himself and I wanted to say, ‘yeah, oh fuck, you idiot!’, but I was frozen from fear, and couldn’t help but scream as the feeling of falling down returned, fingers—probably painfully—digging into the back of Spiderman’s head. I hope I yank on his baby hair strong enough to have him squirming in pain—wait, maybe that’s not so smart while we’re literally swinging around above the city and clinging onto some magic web or something! For a second, there was the feeling of free falling again, and then—nothing. The wind wasn’t blowing in our faces anymore, and we weren’t swinging left to right anymore either. Everything stood still around us, cars honking loudly underneath us, and rap music blasting from somewhere—we weren’t dead, right?!

I came to realize my breathing was ragged—now that we were stationary and I could actually think—and that my arms and hands were shaking uncontrollably, my whole body flushed against Spiderman’s as if I wished to become one with him. If that’s what keeps me alive while we swing above the city, we better morph into one person or something! I was too scared to open my eyes, and my muscles tensed even more when I felt two big hands run up and down my back.

“Hey, we’ve landed. You’re not in the air anymore, Y/N.” Spiderman spoke softly, and I felt him turn his head, but I only lowered mine and pressed it against his suited neck. I heard him release a small gasp as I gulped hard, trying to calm my nerves, and fight off a panic attack, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were scared of heights.”

“I need a second.” I found my voice as I croaked that out, trying to flex my fingers as they started cramping by how hard I was holding onto Spiderman.

“I can give you three more, if that’s what you need.” I felt Spiderman’s fingers tangle into my untamed hair as he tried to smooth down the wild strands, and I felt my cheeks flush. God, that’s embarrassing now.

“What I need—” I snapped, managing to detach myself from his neck finally, “is to kick your loser ass!”

And then I pried myself off his body and pulled my right fist back to swing it at his bicep. However, to my dismay, he didn’t even as much as flinch, only snorted, “I’ll break your nose if you laugh at me again! I literally have a phobia of heights and you go on and take me on a swing or whatever above the freaking city?! I’m going home—you’ve got to be kidding me.”

But finally taking a look around, realising the whereabouts of our location, I realized Spiderman landed us on a rooftop of a freaking tall building. I swung my fist at his chest this time, “Hey, hey, sorry, I didn’t know! Stop hitting me, Y/N, it tickles—”

“Tickles?!” I exclaimed and gave him a furious look as Spiderman awkwardly scrapped at his nape, angling his head downwards, “I just told you I almost died in your arms, and you tell me my punches tickle?!”

“No, no,” Spiderman suddenly rolled back his shoulders, clutching the bicep I’ve punched a minute ago, “your punches are so strong it could take down even Dr Octopus! I can’t feel my arm anymore.”

“Take down who?” My eyebrows furrowed as I stared at Spiderman, watching his fake act of being hurt as he clutched his arm as if it was about to fall off. Now he was just plainly mocking me.

“Nevermind—I’m sorry, I should have asked if you had a fear of heights first, before I took you here.” Spiderman mumbled as he scratched the back of his head, shuffling on his feet.

“Yeah, uhm, so, what are we doing here?” I asked as I circled my arms around my middle.

“Well, I wanted to show you the view but that’s not possible anymore.” He answered with a sigh, and he sounded quite defeated. I licked my lips and made sure to keep my eyes on the rooftop’s ground instead of looking around. I would pass out surely, and my hands are still trembling, my heart beating fast.

“Is this spot significant or something?” I mumbled as I kicked at nothing in particular.

“Yeah, when I’m stressed or worried, I come here to clear my mind.” Spiderman answered, walking to the edge of the rooftop. My heart did a somersault until I remembered literally nothing can happen to him, he sticks to things like a real spider—freaky.

“So, what’s got your stressed or worried right now?” I found myself asking as I crouched down, a little nauseated when Spiderman leaned over the edge, staring down at the bustling city underneath us. The people on the streets, the honking cars and music coming from down the street created a disturbing cacophony up here, but down there, it never sounded this messy.

“Nothing, I just wished to show you this place.”

“Why?” I asked as I looked up, finding him already looking at me. His eyes blinked, a feature of his mask I wished he didn’t have. It was weird, I didn’t like it.

“No particular reason.” Spiderman answered after he cleared his throat, however it didn’t sound sincere. He averted his eyes as he turned around and sat down on the ledge, swinging his legs over. I inhaled sharply, palms balling up into fists at his actions. I had to remind himself that he literally can’t die even if the wind pushes him over. Me—on the other hand—can and would one hundred percent die. And so, I found myself on my knees and hands as I slowly crawled towards him, trying to regulate my breaths as my heart started hammering in my chest again. As Spiderman heard movement, he tuned his head abruptly.

“What are you doing?” He sounded amused as he asked, looking down at me with his freaky blinking black mask eyes.

“I’m joining you without actually joining you.” I muttered as I reached the ledge, thankfully the brick wall reached up to one’s waist and I couldn’t see down as I sat down, turning my back to the ledge, and leaning against the cold structure. Spiderman’s eyes remained on me as I hugged my knees to my chest before I looked up at him, “Well, I’m sure the view is pretty.”

“Yeah, it is.” He whispered; eyes boring into mine. I gulped, something stirring in my stomach. I seriously am not about to develop a stupid crush on Spiderman too, right?! That would be freaking embarrassing. I already have a crush on Yunho and it’s more than enough—in fact, it’s fucking mortifying, because how am I supposed to act normal when I’m around him, and all I want to do is get lost in his beautiful chocolate brown eyes and listen to his soft voice all day long while demanding him to engulf me in his warm arms, swallow me up against his broad chest?! I have to stop thinking about Yunho right now—or whenever I feel my mind slipping into delusion land.

“So, Spiderman, what’s your story?” I raised my eyebrows at him, chuckling as Yunho came to mind again despite my efforts, “I have a friend who’s in love with you—”

“He’s not—” Spiderman cleared his throat, patting his chest, “Sorry, you were saying?”

“Right,” I narrowed my eyes at the guy and he swiftly turned his head away, looking down at the city, “so, I have this friend who really likes you—even has a Spiderman phone case—and I’m just curious to hear your story. You know, from someone who’s not a die-hard fan and sugarcoats things.”

“There’s no big story, to be honest.” Spiderman shrugged, fiddling with his fingers in his lap—Yunho often does that when he’s nervous, “I try to keep the order in the city and help the innocent, and those in need. It took the police some time until they started trusting me and liking me, but things aren’t as chaotic as they were before.”

“But, wait.” My eyebrows furrowed as I crossed my arms in front of my chest, “If you’re eighteen now, for how long have you been Spiderman? Assuming that you weren’t born like this…?”

“It’s almost scary how much you know about me.” Spiderman teased and I huffed, rolling my eyes, “I’ve been Spiderman ever since I turned sixteen.”

“Wow.” I muttered, looking back up at the guy. He’s been putting his life on the line for two years now, that’s really selfless. Perhaps I can see why Yunho admires him so much, “Are you ever scared? That you’ll get really hurt or something. Does anyone know your real identity?”

“Yes, I do get scared, and yes, the guy who I grew up with knows about my identity.” The guy answered, placing his hands on both sides of his thighs as he started swinging his legs, “I can’t tell many people though, and that was really hard at the beginning. I hate lying, can’t lie well either if I’m being honest, and it just feels wrong to keep secrets from the people closest to me. However, it ensures their safety, so, at the same time I don’t mind keeping it from them.”

“For an eighteen-year-old dude,” I chuckled, leaning my head back against the brick wall, “you are quite mature.”

“Well, when you chase and fight criminals daily, you are forced to mature early.”

“Did you want to become like this? Turn into Spiderman?”

“No, my high-school was visiting a lab and a spider that was genetically mutated bit me.” Spiderman’s voice was quiet, and he sighed loudly soon after, “In case you’re wondering, I don’t regret it. I love being Spiderman even if at times I have to bring sacrifices.”

“Yeah, that’s unpleasant.” I muttered, resting my chin on my knees. I knew what it meant to bring sacrifices for those you loved, and it almost always wasn’t by your choice, but something you just had to do. Ugh, not me suddenly turning bitter and nostalgic. Spiderman coughed shortly, and I felt fingers in my hair. I tensed for a second, but then his long fingers were out of my hair the following second.

“You had a bug in your hair.” Spiderman explained and I hummed, turning my head to rest my right cheek on my knees so that I could look up at him, “What about you, Y/N, what’s your story?”

I chuckled, averting my eyes as I pursed my lips, “It’s not as noble as yours, that’s for sure, spidey boy.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Well, there’s just my mom and I around, and we’ve moved to the city two weeks ago.” I sighed, closing my eyes as the evening breeze picked up, it wasn’t warm, but at least it wasn’t too cold just yet, “My father abandoned us a month before I was born, so my mom raised me up all alone with her mother’s help sometimes. She had her fair share of questionable partners, but they were never as evil as her last ex-fiancé.

“The guy was a criminal, he murdered three people and then tried to blame it on being so crazily in love with my mother that he wasn’t completely sane anymore. It was fucking comical; I hate that piece of shit. He’s threatened me numerous times and would throw me around the house when mom wasn’t around, saying how I’d end up six feet under if I didn’t keep my mouth shut about it.

“He never liked me for some reason, always claimed my mom focused more on me than on him—the fucking idiot. He has hit me a few times, and once my mother finally noticed, she tried to leave him, but he threatened to kill us. It was crazy, absolute madness, trying to get away from him—until the police came knocking on our door one night, claiming that they were there to arrest my mom’s ex for murder. The whole town was freaking shook, us included.”

Well, and that’s on trauma dumping, I guess. But he asked, after all, and I just told Mr. Spidey my story. It felt nice letting someone know about my past, however, it didn’t exactly feel right that I said all that to a stranger. I always thought Yunho would be the first person to find out about the whole story behind our recent move.

I gulped, feeling slightly guilty for having told all that to Spiderman, and I jumped when I felt fingers touching my cheek. I blinked my eyes open, finding Spiderman on his knees as he was leaned over, down towards me, fingers gently pressing against my cheek, “Nothing like that will ever again happen to you, Y/N, I promise. As long as I live, I promise to protect you.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I raised my head up from my knees, Spiderman’s warm hand cupping my face, “You don’t even know me, Spiderman.”

“I know enough.” He whispered and I gulped, heart beating fast as we gazed into each other’s eyes, his black mask unblinking for once. My lips parted and I shivered as the breeze turned stronger, Spiderman’s thumb gently rubbing my chin. It felt like I couldn’t look away, like the gap was slowly closing between us—until an alarm went off blaring, making both of us jump. Spiderman was up on his feet in a second, looking down at his wrist watch.

“Well, your curfew starts in ten minutes.” His voice was a little hoarse and he quickly cleared his throat, “We should head back if we don’t want your mom freaking out.”

“I’m not swinging around in your arms above the city again, Spidey!” I snapped, giving him a pointed glare as he jumped off the ledge, crouching down in front of me.

“The closest station is a five-minute walk away from here and the bus won’t come for another ten minutes. If I count correctly, that’s past your curfew, and there’s no direct bus to your neighbourhood from here.” Spiderman sounded smug as I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Where even are we?”

“The east end of the city—”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. That’s a fourteen-minute ride by bus! My mom is so going to kill me tonight.

“Just hold on tight, and I promise not to drop you—”

“That’s not funny!” I snapped as I shakily stood, glaring at Spiderman. But he just chuckled, clearly amused.

“You were like a koala when we came here, it was cute.”

“Shut up.” I grumbled, trying to ignore the way my cheeks flushed when Spiderman opened his arms for me. This is the first and last time he carries me around the city like this.

            Spiderman didn’t show up again at my window to whisk me away for a—swing? —maybe he was just too embarrassed to show his face again. Well, masked face. Admittedly, there’s been only three days since I was visited by the superhero, randomly on a Tuesday afternoon, and trust for me to brag all about it to Yunho. Not that I was mocking him—maybe a little bit—about getting to meet his superhero in person before he did, it’s just that it was funny seeing his reactions as I retold everything to him. He seemed to be even more excited when he heard it in person, as I had called him the second I got home from the outing. Now, school was finally over and I could go home and sleep. The city was buzzing with life last night and the police raided our street around midnight, talk about a man having escaped form an asylum spread around fast. Apparently, the man had been hiding in the basement of one of my neighbour’s houses’. Creepy. Spiderman, surprisingly, didn’t show up, but I suppose it wasn’t necessarily an emergency as it wasn’t a very dangerous person. Besides, I think Spiderman also needs his beauty sleep—like us, mere mortals do.

I stretched as we walked through the gates of the high-school, greeting the groundkeeper as he shot us a look since San was cackling loudly as he watched a video on his phone, volume cranked up to the maximum. Mingi had his arm thrown around Yunho’s shoulders, lips pursed as he watched some younger girls run past them while giggling and shooting them stares.

“Do you think Bomi will finally ask me out?” Mingi mused quietly, turning his head to stare at the long-haired girl that had just passed by with her friends.

“Don’t know, have you finally spoken to each other?” Yunho raised his eyebrows at his best friend, expertly grabbing the strap of my backpack as he halted my steps, yanking me backwards and out of the way of a speeding bike.

“Jesus.” I hissed, clutching my skateboard to my chest, “What an idiot—”

“Hey, watch it, you!” San shouted after the guy, who was already at the end of the street, “You could run over someone!”

“Nice reflexes.” Mingi teased, and detached himself from his friend at last. I gulped and turned to thank Yunho; my cheeks flushed pink. Well, that was embarrassing, but it could’ve ended a lot worse.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” Yunho’s smile was soft and warm, and I gulped, averting my eyes quickly. But fucking hell, Mingi and I made eye contact, and he narrowed his eyes at me. That dude is onto something and I don’t like how easily he can see right through me.

“We haven’t spoken to each other yet…” Mingi casually continued the conversation he was having with Yunho, deep voice trailing off.

San chuckled amused, finally stopping the video on his phone as he raised his head, “Well, then, what are you expecting? She won’t ask you out if you don’t talk to her—wait, why are you sure she’s into you? She could be into me, or even Yunho.”

I pursed my lips, totally not feeling jealous over the fact that other living people could have a crush on Yunho! And let’s be real, who the hell wouldn’t have a crush on freaking Yunho?! He’s basically—perfect!

“You underestimate my awesomeness, San.” Mingi huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “And she’s not into you, you’re too short.”

“Hey, I’m not short!” San exclaimed offended, then looked at me with round eyes, “I’m not short, right?!”

“Of course not.” I chuckled, smiling at him, “It’s Mingi who’s too tall.”

“Says the midget.” Mingi scoffed, throwing me a glare. Will this dude ever like me?

“Okay, let’s stop shaming each other for our heights—or anything else, actually.” Yunho, always the peacemaker, grinned as he squeezed Mingi’s shoulder once, and then draped his long arm around my own shoulders, making my heart somersault in my chest.

“We’ll talk about this more later,” San said, eyes narrowed, “I have to catch my bus now, see ya!”

And with a wave, he ran off, totally in the complete opposite of where his bus stop was. I watched on as he caught up with a guy from our class, I have finally learned his name—Jung Wooyoung—and the two hugged briefly as San grabbed the guy’s arm and started yanking him towards the metro station. Yeah, they certainly weren’t headed home.

“Are you coming over?” I focused back on the two tall best friends, Mingi’s voice quiet as he looked at Yunho. I knew the offer didn’t stand for me as well, Mingi would never invite me over to his place.

“Not today.” Yunho had an apologetic look on his face, and then he squeezed my shoulder, “I’ve got something else to do.”

“Asshole,” Mingi whispered with a pout as a black car pulled up next to us, “see you two tomorrow, then.”

“Stop being so dramatic, you know I love you.” Yunho managed to ruffle Mingi’s hair before he got in the car, making Mingi scoff as a smile blossomed on his face.

“Yeah, whatever, love you too.” And then he opened the door and sat inside, but he didn’t close the door until the threw me a look that made me gulp. What did I do to make this guy dislike me so much?! At this point, I have given up, there’s no point in trying to decipher the riddle that Song Mingi is.

Suddenly, super aware that Yunho and I were alone now as the black car drove off, I gulped and clutched my skateboard just a little tighter. I took a peek at Yunho, and he was already looking down at me with a small smile, “So, do you want to go home right away?”

“Depends, why?” I asked quietly, praying to God my face wouldn’t turn into a tomato as Yunho slightly leaned down, closer to my face.

“There’s a really nice park not even ten minutes away from here, wanna go?” Of course, I want to go, Jeong Yunho.

“Sure.” I nodded, smiling back at him, face burning. Great, only a blind man would be oblivious to the fat-ass crush I have on Yunho at this point! It’s so embarrassing, but I can’t help it when he looks so—cute!

“See that convenience store there?” He turned his head and pointed at the store, which was just down the road. I nodded, and looked at him with a questioning gaze, “Race you there!”

And before I could fully register what he said, Yunho released me and took off in a sprint towards the convenience store. My mouth opened in surprise and I blinked, finally somehow realizing we were competing to see who gets there first. But with Yunho having a head start, I grinned and dropped my skateboard onto the ground. I quickly pushed off and gained more speed as I manoeuvred between the people on the sidewalk, grinning from ear to ear as I started gaining on Yunho. He’s really fast, but it shouldn’t be so surprising as I have seen him in P.E. class already, and he’s one of the best athletes I know. He’s agile and super-fast, he has good reflexes, and is a total team player. The guys love picking him in their team when they are playing football. I giggled as I came up just behind Yunho, pushing harder as my foot hit the pavement, the wind whipping my hair in my face for a second as the store came into view. We were almost there. I did an ollie to jump over the top of a drain, managing to come up a little ahead of Yunho. I laughed as I rolled forward, just barely making it to the convenience store first. I did a small spin and then set my foot down, coming to a stop as Yunho reached me. He was breathing hard as he leaned over, placing his hands on his knees. I grinned at him, and gripped the foot of my skateboard, reaching out to ruffle his fluffy greyish-greenish-blueish hair. I have never done that before, and for a second, I panicked, but Yunho didn’t react badly to my action, he just smiled and shook his head.

“I didn’t think I’d lose.” He said with a laugh and then stood up straight, running his long fingers through his hair. He wore more rings today, and one looked suspiciously like a ring I have seen Mingi wear before.

“You can’t win at everything, Yunho.” I stuck my tongue out playfully before I turned to walk inside the convenience store, “I’ve never met a more competitive person than you are.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” Yunho chuckled as he followed closely behind me, looking at the shelves as we went down the snack aisle, “But you can’t say it wasn’t fun.”

“It was.” I looked over my shoulder with a grin as Yunho grabbed some potato chips off a high shelf, “But next time give me a warning, I only got lucky because I had my skateboard with me. You didn’t play fairly.”

Yunho chuckled and I grabbed some salty crackers, “Sometimes we need the element of surprise, Y/N, in order to excel.”

“Aha, so now you’re saying you knew I would win if you didn’t warn me first?” I raised an eyebrow at him, making Yunho chuckle as he grabbed my shoulder and veered me towards the fridges in the back.

“I knew you’d win.” He muttered and I tried not to blush—again—as I opened the fridge and grabbed some Sprite, while Yunho grabbed a larger bottle of water, leaning over me to retrieve it and—yeah, I tried not to pass out as I felt his breath hit the top of my head, his warmth radiating off him due to our closeness. However, the moment was over as quickly as it came.

Thankfully, I still had the money my mother gave me last week, otherwise it’d be really embarrassing to have Yunho buy something for me again. Well, technically, last time neither one of us paid for it at Hongjoong’s store, but still. I didn’t want him paying for my things, I’d feel like I owe it to him now.

We approached the front desk and the clerk looked very bored and done with us as he gave us a glare—similar to Mingi’s, and it made snort quietly—as he scanned our items. I had pulled the money out of the front pocket of my backpack as the clerk told us our total, and I was totally handing him the amount I had to pay for, when Yunho pushed my wrist to the side and placed the whole sum on the counter. I opened my mouth to clearly argue with him, but he grabbed our items and grinned so widely I feared it would be the reason why I’d go blind—and not from the fact that I’ve been trying to look into the sun for ages now without squinting my eyes, not too smart, but I never claimed to be smart. I muttered a goodbye to the clerk as Yunho pushed the door open for me and stepped outside to make enough space for me to pass through the narrow doorway.

“Let me carry my things.” I said as the door closed behind us, but Yunho just shook his head.

“You have to carry your skateboard, don’t fret about it.” My eyebrows furrowed as he took off towards the park he had mention, I could see it from here. It was just a little up ahead of us, to the right, between three buildings.

“I’ll give you my part of the sum when we have sat down.” I said as I tried to keep up with his long strides—damn his long legs, God has favourites, and as much as Yunho is one of his favourites, I certainly am not.

“Nah, you don’t have to.” Yunho grinned, and I noticed a gummy worm hanging out from the corner of his mouth.

“Yes, I do.” I huffed, walking towards the gate of the park, “And where’d you get that gummy from?”

“From here.” And he pointed at the pocket of his suit jacket—who the hell wears a suit jacket to school, good lord it’s so hot when Yunho wears it, I seriously had trouble focusing all day long because of it. I reached my hand out and stole a gummy worm from his pocket, giggling as I made disgusting slurping noises as I put it in my mouth, and sucked it in in one go. Yunho’s eyebrows raised before he burst out into deep giggles, throwing his head back a little—and I choked, almost. I coughed as the gummy worm almost managed to slip down my throat, but I saved it somehow last minute. Eating gummy worms around Jeong Yunho is dangerous, noted.

“Why was that kind of cute?” Yunho asked with a chuckle as he chose a spot to sit, underneath a tall tree, offering us enough shade from the, now, not so hot sun. I placed my skateboard down, and followed Yunho as he plopped down, the sound of his butt colliding with the grass making me snort. He looked up at me with a pout and then grabbed my arm and pulled me down, almost making me fall into his freaking lap. It didn’t even take a second for my cheeks to turn pink, and I threw Yunho a small glare as I regained my balance and sat down next to him, mirroring his position. Our backs were leaning against the tree, legs splayed out long in front of us as I took my crackers and Sprite from Yunho.

“What was cute?” I asked as I opened the bag of crackers, desperate to wash away the extra sweet taste that remained in my mouth due to the gummy worm.

“You,” Yunho muttered, opening his water bottle, “and the sound you made. You’re funny.”

“I didn’t think you’d find me acting like an Ogre cute, but thank you, I guess.” My comment made Yunho laugh hard again as he threw his head back, prompting me to giggle along. His laughter was contagious, and I realized my stomach was coiling tightly—and not due to the sweets and unhealthy food I have digested so far today. It was because of Yunho, and because all I want to do right now is to lean up and press a kiss against his cheek. God dammit.

“You’d make a cute Ogre.” Yunho mused once he had calmed down, then took a sip of his water.

“Please,” I playfully rolled my eyes, popping another salty cracker into my mouth, “you’d be totally into the green swamp monster I’d turn into. Fiona’s got nothing on me.”

“Not the way I thought you’d find this out about me, but—” Yunho paused for dramatic effect, and I raised my eyebrows at him, “I’m totally into Fiona, have been since I was little.”

“Oh, my God!” I cackled, shielding my mouth with my hand as I still haven’t chewed all the crackers, “Yunho! That’s just—you have to explain yourself now!”

“Why, don’t tell me you never had a crush on a fictional character!?” Yunho exclaimed, sounding exasperated as he bumped his shoulder against mine. I licked my lips and tried not to burst out laughing at the memory of who I’ve always had a crush on when I was younger.

“Okay…” I took a deep breath and turned my head to face Yunho, “Have you ever heard about the cartoon ‘W.I.T.C.H.’?”

“Yeah, Hongjoong really liked it while we were growing up,” Yunho said with a chuckle, “He’d make us watch it every evening when they played it on the TV, I think he was into Cornelia.”

“Well, Cornelia is a good, and hot, choice to have a crush on, indeed.” I pursed my lips and offered my bag of crackers to Yunho, who took one with a small grin, “I mean, I was totally into Caleb, but—”

“Really? Caleb?” Yunho asked surprised, narrowing his eyes, “I thought you’re more of a Matt girl.”

“Well, I’m actual neither a Caleb nor Matt girl, Yunho.” I giggled, leaning in closer as if I was telling a secret, “You see, I always found myself blushing a little bit too hard when Lord Cedric was on the screen—”

“No way!” Yunho exclaimed, eyes turning round as he looked shocked, “The snake guy?!”

“Well, don’t look at me like that after admitting you’re into Fiona!” I exclaimed back with a laugh, making Yunho look at me like I was crazy.

“Fiona was a princess who decided to turn into an Ogre to stay with the love of her life, meanwhile, Lord Cedric was obsessed with his king, he could into a snake, and he once ate someone, Y/N!” I bit my bottom lip, trying not to laugh at how passionate Yunho was all of a sudden.

“Each to its own, I guess.” I said nonchalantly with a shrug, making Yunho’s initial shock turn into amusement as he started laughing once again. I’ve never heard him laugh so much before, and I found myself smiling at him as his ears turned slightly rosy, eyes screwed shut as his shoulders shook from laughter. He looked completely and absolutely beautiful, and my heart was hammering against my ribcage, threating to fall out of my ass at any given moment. Oh, God, I’m so screwed.

“I swear to God, you and Mingi are cut from the same cloth. He’s also into weird humanlike creatures or something.” Yunho said once he had calmed down, and I quickly turned my head away when he looked at me, feeling like he caught me staring and admiring him.

“Not you shaming both Mingi and I for having silly childhood crushes.” I said with a pout, throwing a cracker into my mouth.

“Mingi still crushes on characters like those, though.” I chuckled, glancing at Yunho from the corner of my eyes, finding him looking at me with a small smile on his lips, cheeks flushed. God, he’s not blushing, right?! Why would he blush, it must be the sun. Yup, certainly the sun!

“I’ll tell him you made fun of him behind his back.” I teased as Yunho grabbed a cracker, leaning his head back against the tree.

“I fear it won’t phase him; San makes fun of him daily for it.” Yunho said, sounding amused. I chuckled and copied Yunho as I leaned my head back against the tree too, suddenly becoming aware of how close we were sitting next to each other. Our shoulders and thighs were pressed together, and Yunho’s elbow was softly poking into my stomach. I bit my lower lip and allowed the comfortable silence to settle upon us, watching the people that passed by the park. The traffic wasn’t so bad here, and there was a bus stop straight across the park. A sports car, with a super loud engine drove past, the sound making me wince for a second. And as I watched a mother with her two children open the gate of the park, I felt a hand in my hair, fingers twirling a longer strand. My heart stilled for a second, knowing well that it was Yunho, and I took a peek at him.

“Oh,” He suddenly retracted his hand, looking away embarrassed, “sorry, there was uh—something in your hair. A bug.”

Funny, Spiderman did that too.

“Thanks.” I offered him a small smile and watched as he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, funny how that now reminded me of Spiderman too, “I hate bugs.”

“I’m not afraid of them.” Yunho said as he finally looked me in the eyes, his ears, however, still slightly red.

“Aren’t you a cool guy, Jeong Yunho?” I winked playfully and Yunho chuckled before we became silent again. I popped another cracker into my mouth and then offered the bag to Yunho, who took some more, and funnily stuffed his mouth full of them. I chuckled and proceeded to eat some more too, placing my left hand on my thigh as I tried to enjoy this peaceful moment. I’ve never had this back in my hometown. I didn’t have many people to hang out with, and the ones I did hang out with were always the bad type of kids, kids who wanted to break the rules and bother others. It was nice to finally embrace the tranquillity, and just simply exist without ruining others fun. Many people didn’t like me back in my hometown due to me associating myself with those rascals.

Lost in my thoughts, I failed to notice that something was softly poking my hand, the feeling just barely there, like the ghost of a touch. I watched the two children play around, climb into the smaller trees and wave at their mother as they laughed. When the light touch became more insistent, I flipped my hand around, thinking it was just an ant or something that I could flick away, but instead, I felt warm fingertips just barely trace the lines of my palm. I gulped and tried not to tense up as I looked down, eyes falling on Yunho’s hand as his long fingers pushed a little more decisively against my palm. I blinked and looked up at Yunho, but he was looking down at our hands, lips parted as if he was in a trance. I was curious—I had to know—so without thinking much, I gently intertwined our fingers, and waited. For something to happen, anything. But other than a tiny smile appearing on Yunho’s lips and his grip turning slightly firmer, nothing happened. Well, nothing besides the frightening feeling of my heart exploding out of my chest, and my cheeks burning so much you could probably fry a steak on it or something. I didn’t know where to put this exactly, what to think of it, but the seemingly trance Yunho was in, was broken the second loud sirens rung and police cars were suddenly wheezing down the street, the loud noise disturbing the tranquil atmosphere that had settled around us. Yunho became instantly tense as his head snapped up, eyes focused up ahead as he untangled his hand from mine, grabbing his backpack. I watched him curiously as he took his phone and opened it up, eyebrows furrowing deeply.

“I—I, uh, I have to go.” My eyebrows furrowed as I watched Yunho scramble up, leaving his water and potato chips on the ground, “My mom just texted me; something came up—I have to go.”

“Is everything alright?” I asked worried, watching Yunho bounce on his feet as he looked one second away from sprinting off.

“Yeah, it’s—everything’s okay, I just really have to go right now.” He finally looked at me, chewing on his bottom lip, looking like he was hesitating, “Don’t wait for me, your bus will come in ten minutes. Get home safely, text me when you do.”

“Oh, okay, uhm, you take care too.” But Yunho ran off before I could even finish my sentence, and I watched impressed as he jumped over the fence—which wasn’t very tall, but I wouldn’t have been able to do that surely—and then he was sprinting down the sidewalk, apologising to people as he had to push them out of his way.

Huh, that was weird and another interesting coincidence. I couldn’t help but think back to Mingi mentioning Yunho’s disappearances whenever something major and bad was happening in the city. Certainly, they were mere coincidences.

            But Yunho never quite texted back yesterday, and it would be a lie if I say I didn’t worry about him. His departure from the park was sudden, and his absence conjured up all sorts of thoughts in my mind. It was strange and very unlike Yunho. When I was on the bus, headed to school and completely sleepy and almost out of it, I was scrolling through Tik Tok, trying to awaken myself a little bit after I have texted San to inquire information about Yunho. He reassured me that there were days when Yunho would go low on contact, but he was completely fine, and that usually he spent his time with family when he wouldn’t text back. I could understand that, but it still worried me. Just as I was about to exit the app, I came across a crappy video on my for your page that depicted many police cars and even more officers as they had someone surrounded. And then, the superhero, the one that always saves the day around here, Spiderman swooped in and all you could see was his web flying around, and a man getting strapped to a pole until a gunshot rang out followed by a loud cry of pain, and then the video cut off. My eyebrows furrowed as I let it replay again, chewing on my bottom lip nervously. Who got hurt? You couldn’t see it in the video, and I couldn’t help but think that it was Spiderman. Without thinking much, I sent the video to San and asked if he knew anything. The reply, unsurprisingly, came fast, and he said that Spiderman got injured yesterday as one of the criminal’s managed to escape. He got shot in his left leg. I cringed at the thought, and then put my phone away having arrived to the high-school. I certainly wasn’t in the mood nor headspace to attend any of my classes today, but at least I’d get to see Yunho, and make sure that he’s okay.

Except that, very uncharacteristically to Yunho, he showed up a little late to our first class, and he even looked quite dishevelled with dark bags under his eyes. He looked like he didn’t have a good night’s sleep and—I almost failed to notice the slight limp he had in his left leg. Huh, I wonder if anything happened, or have I started seeing things now? However, I didn’t get many chances to ask Yunho about it as he seemed to be always busy talking to our teachers, or to everyone else in the hallways, barely paying attention to San, Mingi, or even me. It was strange, but San said it was completely normal behaviour coming from Yunho, and that he’d do this from time to time when he felt pressured. Apparently, Yunho rarely opens up to his best friends as he hates bothering others with his issues. But I wanted to know what was bothering him. He wouldn’t be a bother to me. But I couldn’t do that as he only sat for us for five minutes in the canteen during our lunch break, and then rushed off saying he had something to take care of. But after that, he never returned to classes. My texts also went unanswered, and by the evening, I was positively nervous and stressed out of my mind by the fact that I didn’t know what was wrong. I even debated on asking San for Yunho’s home address to pay him a quick visit in order to make sure that he was indeed okay. Even my mom noticed how absentminded and worried I was during dinner, but didn’t pester me much when I lied that the teachers were stressing me out with upcoming tests—which maybe wasn’t too smart as she told me I should study even more. Ugh.

Currently, we have finished having dinner and I have tied the trash bag together to take the trash out. I slipped on my outdoor shoes swiftly and unlocked the front door, my mom’s series playing loudly in the living room as she giggled at whatever was said. The air was chilly outside and the single long-sleeved blouse and joggers I was wearing did an awful job at keeping me warm, so, I quickly skipped down the stairs and went to the small alley between our house and the building. That’s where the big trash bins were, by the tall fence. It was dark outside, so I tried to be quick as I dragged the trash bag after me, shivering due to the cold. I huffed loudly, smog leaving my mouth, as I rounded the corner and gave the short alleyway a quick check that it was empty before I hurried down, opening the big trash bin. I threw the bag inside and let it shut loudly afterwards. I rubbed my arms up and down as I turned around and walked back down the alleyway, gasping loudly as a silhouette appeared right around the corner. It was hunched over slightly and breathing loudly, groaning too. God, I fucking hate this neighbourhood, why do I always have to encounter random drunk people or even worse—criminals!? But I really had to head back inside the house—climbing through my window wasn’t an option as it was locked—and I willed myself to just run past them and back inside the safety of my house. However, just as I made it under the streetlamp, I paused. The red and blue suit was torn at the chest, and Spiderman seemed to be struggling to stand up straight.

“Oh, my God!” I whispered, approaching him, “What happened to you?!”

“Oh, Y/N.” He muttered, groaning again as he tried to stand up tall.

“Stop that,” I hissed, eyebrows furrowing as I tried to inspect his wound, but it wasn’t visible through the gash on the suit, “Come on.”

Spiderman only resisted for a second as I placed his arm around my shoulders, offering him support as he leaned against my much smaller frame. He was heavy, but I was determined, and the front porch was barely a few steps away, “What are you doing?”

“Taking you inside my house, think you can keep quiet until we reach my room?” I looked up at Spiderman, who gulped as we reached the front steps.

“Yeah.” He whispered and I let out a small sigh, taking one step at a time as we ascended the stairs. I pushed the door open carefully and walked us inside, pausing in the hallway to make sure my mother was still in the living room, watching her series. I looked at Spiderman and signalled to him to remain quiet as I lead us down the hallway, headed for my room. I opened the door and helped him towards my bed, on which he fell down quite unceremoniously, groaning loudly.

“Okay, you still have to keep quiet.” I said with a frown, glancing behind me, “I’ll be back in a second with a medical kit.”

Spiderman nodded and I swiftly left my room, pulling the door shut until it was only slightly ajar, and sneaked back down the hallway. I opened the front door again and closed it louder, locking it up, “Mom, I’m going to bed now! I’m really sleepy.”

“Alright, sweet dreams, honey.” She threw a flying kiss my way as she glanced back and I smiled, catching it playfully before I was off, headed for the bathroom. I took the medical kit from underneath the small cupboard we had in there, and then I was back inside my room, closing and locking the door after myself.

“Alright,” I whispered, looking at Spiderman and trying not to panic as I noticed blood seeping through his suit, “how do we do this?”

“Uh,” He groaned again, sitting up lightly, “you can patch me up through the costume.”

“I can?” I muttered confused as I walked closer, placing the kit down by the bed as I crouched down. I leaned closer to his chest and carefully touched the costume, not too surprised to find it not peeling off his body, “I can’t, Spiderman, the costume literally clings to your body.”

“Oh, that’s not good.” He mused, scratching his nape, “I have to take it off, then.”

“Oh—like—the whole costume?” My voice was squeaky all of a sudden, and I averted my eyes as I felt myself blush lightly.

“Uh, yeah.” Spiderman whispered and I gulped, trying not to freak out. Yeah, this is cool and totally okay, nothing too sensational. I’m just helping a wounded guy, no biggie, it’s not like I’m going to see him naked! He must have underwear on, right?!

“I think I accidentally took some of my mom’s exe’s clothes with me when I was packing, let me check.” And I stood up and hurried over to my closet, finding the sweatpants and t-shirt that I had in mind.

“Great.” Spiderman grumbled and I rolled my eyes.

“Hey, you don’t get to be picky when you’re about to bleed out on my bed!” I hissed, trying to control my tone and not raise my voice out of fear of alerting my mom.

“Right, sorry.” Spiderman muttered and I approached him again.

“How do we take the suit off?” I asked, eyebrows furrowed. I’ve never seen something like this before, so I have no idea what superheroes do in this case.

“There’s a zipper on the back.” He explained and I nodded, going to the side of the bed to be able to see Spiderman’s back.

“Will—will the mask come off too?” I asked in a whisper as I hesitated to touch the zipper.

“No, don’t worry.” Spiderman answered and I huffed, gripping the zipper and carefully undoing it. It went all the way down to his lower back, and I blinked a few times as I tried to ignore the smooth skin underneath the suit.

“Uh, right, I assume you can undress yourself the rest of the way?” I asked as I stepped back, averting my eyes as my cheeks were burning.

“Yeah, one second.” Spiderman huffed and he carefully stood, groaning quietly. I closed my eyes and shrivelled around, not too keen of staring at him while he changes out of his costume. I might see something I don’t want to, and that’s not cool. I listened closely as he shuffled around, groaned a few times, and then plopped back down on the bed, “Okay, I have changed.”

“Great—” I gasped as my eyes fell on his exposed torso, eyes widening at the big gash running across his chest, “Shouldn’t you be in the hospital right now?!”

Spiderman chuckled, and my eyebrows furrowed more as I went back to my previous position in front of him. I kneeled and took the medical kit, opening it up.

“If we clean the wound, it’ll take around two to three hours to heal by itself.” He said, tone reassuring as I grabbed some gauze and rubbing alcohol, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“So, then, did you get shot yesterday?” I asked, pouring rubbing alcohol on the gauze before I looked up, “I saw the videos.”

The sight of having Spiderman in nothing but sweatpants and his mask, sitting on my is bed certainly—a sight to behold. Perhaps if he wasn’t hurt at the moment, I’d be gaping at his well-defined physique, his lean muscles, the faint abs on his stomach, his wide shoulder and broad chest—focus, woman!

“Yeah, I did get shot.” Spiderman said, and I hoped he’d ignore the way I tried not to thirst over his body. I’m such a horrible person right now, kill me.

“This will hurt, I assume.” I warned as I leaned up and gently pressed the gauze against the edge of the gash, making Spiderman hiss, “Sorry, I did warn you though.”

“I know, don’t worry.” He chuckled and I noticed his hands balling up the blanket as he gulped loudly the lower my hand slipped on the gash, trying to clean the wound as carefully but thoroughly as possible.

“Is your leg fine, then?” I asked, trying to avert his attention from the pain. Spiderman hummed, low in his chest, almost rumbling under my touch. I gulped and tried to focus—this is so not the moment to even think to fantasize about this superhero dude!

“It’s a bit still sore, the bullet went in deep, but it healed up by noon.” He explained and I hummed, for some reason finding it weird that Yunho seemed to be limping this morning, and that he disappeared around noon. Certainly, I was playing along to Mingi’s delusions and suspicions about Yunho at this point, and I don’t even spend that much time with Mingi. It’s ridiculous. How could Yunho be Spiderman? But then again…is it really that unbelievable? It could be anyone, for God’s sake, even me! Well, obviously not me, but you know what I mean!

“I’m glad that’s healed.” I muttered, getting to the other end of the gash finally, “Are you sure this one doesn’t need stitches, it looks to be deep, Mr. Spidey.”

Spiderman chuckled, and I felt his hand wrap around my wrist as I dabbed the gauze against the wound again. I froze, eyes widening a little at the familiarity of the touch. Yunho’s hands are always warm and quite big, his fingers long. I bit my bottom lip as I looked down at Spiderman’s hand, noticing the marks that looked like they were left by rings. Yunho would also have marks left by rings on his fingers on days he didn’t feel like wearing them. I gulped and then looked up; Spiderman’s freaky black masked eyes unblinking as he looked down at me.

“It won’t need stitches, Y/N.” He whispered, and a tingle ran down my spine, making me gulp down nothing in particular, having to clear my throat as I averted my eyes, gently pulling my hand back. Spiderman released his grip on me instantly and followed me with his eyes as I threw the bloody gauze back inside the medical kit until I’d throw it away. I then stood, rubbing my hands together as I didn’t know what to do next.

“I, uh—is that enough?” I asked, motioning towards the clean gash now, averting my eyes from his torso when they threatened to run all over it again.

“Yes, thank you.” Spiderman muttered, and I could hear the smile in his voice, “You’re an angel.”

Oh, fuck. My cheeks flushed instantly and I pulled my hair behind my ears as I cleared my throat again, looking past Spiderman, at my poster covered wall, “Right, yeah, uh—do you need anything else?”

“A little time to recover would be nice if I’m not bothering you too much.” Spiderman said, voice sounding hopeful.

“It’s fine, my mom won’t bother us as she thinks I’ve gone to bed.” I explained, placing my hands behind my back awkwardly, “Uhm, you said it takes two to three hours to heal, do you think this one will heal that fast if the wound made by the gun didn’t?”

Spiderman shrugged, and I watched as he finally took the white t-shirt I have given him in his hands, “It’ll certainly take longer than that, sometime around the early morning hours I should be fine.”

“Then stay.” I blurted out before I could actually think about what I was proposing. Spiderman froze for a second as he was about to wear the t-shirt, “I mean, you’re hurt and it’s dangerous outside, even Spiderman deserves to rest and be safe, no?”

He poked his masked head through the t-shirt, “Well, yes, but—”

“Then sleep here.” I motioned at the bed he was sitting on, “I will go to my mom and tell her I had a really bad nightmare, and that I wish to sleep next to her.”

“I don’t want to bother you, though.”

“Hey, Spidey, it’s totally cool.” I chuckled, showing him my thumbs up, “I’ll have so much fun retelling all this to Yunho, you know, my friend who’s obsessed with you. He’ll be dying that I got to patch you up and house you for a night.”

I giggled as I went to collect my phone from my desk, slipping it in my pocket. I should probably take some pyjamas with me and the medical kit as well. I walked to my closet as Spiderman watched me, and I opened the door to pick out my most favourite pyjamas to sleep in tonight. I closed the door and turned, smiling to myself…until I looked up. Until I found Spiderman gone and Yunho standing in his place. Red mask with the freaky black blinking eyes was clutched in his left hand, and his greyish-greenish-bluish hair was all messed up and dishevelled. My mouth dropped open as my pyjamas fell from my hands, and I found myself leaning back against my closet door.

“Yun—Yunho?!” I snapped; eyes wide open. This certainly must be a trick of the light or something, “There’s no fucking way you’re fucking Spiderman, Jeong Yunho!”

“But I actually am.” I watched Spiderman—no—Yunho scratch the back of his head awkwardly, averting his eyes, “This is not how I wanted to tell you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I huffed, eyebrows furrowing as I pushed myself off the closet, “It was you all along?!”

“Yeah, there’s just one Spiderman—”

“Yunho!” I hissed and walked up to him hurriedly, eyebrows furrowing, “Are you crazy?! You could’ve been so much more badly hurt! And your—your leg, you got shot yesterday, oh my God, I’m not crazy! I—I kept noticing similarities between you and Spiderman—like the constant head scratching and like—your physiques were similar—and I saw you limping this morning! I can’t believe you’re actually him, what?! And you have everyone fooled too, like—do you know Mingi is suspicious of you? I thought I was crazy for thinking you are similar to Spiderman after hanging out with Mingi, but, oh, my god, if he finds out he’ll be so mad, Yunho! And—the childhood friend—it’s Hongjoong you were talking about, isn’t it?! Oh, my God, I also told you everything about the reason why I moved here, and meanwhile I’m glad I won’t have to tell you again, I felt shitty for dumping all that on Spiderman, and it turns out it’s you—”

My eyes widened as my words got muffled, stolen away, as Yunho’s extra warm lips were pressing against mine. I froze, my whole body locking up as he leaned down even more, slotting his lips perfectly against mine. Oh, my fucking God, Yunho is kissing me?! My ultimate crush is absolutely kissing me right now?! And he also happens to be Spiderman?! What in the—I closed my eyes and pushed up on my tip toes, circling my arms around Yunho’s neck as I pulled him down closer, still careful of his wounded chest. Yunho was eager as he gently, experimentally, pressed his lips firmer against mine, his hands settling on my hips as he pulled me a little bit closer. I allowed his lips to slip between mine, gently sucking on his upper lip as I felt Yunho’s left-hand slip to the middle of my back, embracing me as he flushed me against himself. The position was a little bit uncomfortable as I had to crane my neck up and back, trying to keep my balance on my tip toes too, but it was worth it as I felt Yunho’s embrace completely engulf me, pull me into himself, wrap me up in a warm and safe cocoon. I didn’t dare breathe as our lips found a gentle and soft rhythm, Yunho, always the careful sweetheart that he is, didn’t want to hurry the kiss as he gently sucked on my lower lip, making the breath hitch in the back of my throat. I was slowly getting lightheaded, but I didn’t want to pull back just yet. Yunho, however, did slightly pull back, only to press thousands of little kisses against my lips, making me giggle quietly as his lips pulled into the widest smile I have ever seen on him.

“You’re so beautiful and cute.” I found myself whispering against his lips, eyes fluttering open. Yunho’s neck and ears were red, and I finally didn’t have to control myself as I cupped his cheeks and gently squeezed them, making him chuckle adorably, “God, I could squish your cheeks all day long. You’re so adorable.”

“You’re stealing all my lines, angel.” Well, now it was my turn to blush like crazy as I released Yunho’s cheeks and pressed my face into his neck, chuckling, “For the record, before you accuse me of it, I’m not narcissistic.”

I giggled against the hot skin of his neck, and pressed a swift kiss against the flushed flesh, he smelled like honey, “It’s quite important to be your own biggest fan, Spiderman.”

“You’ll forever tease me about it, won’t you?” Yunho asked with a chuckle as he pressed a kiss against the top of my head.

“Definitely.” I pulled back to look up at him with a grin, “But I promise to keep your secret. I’m sure Hongjoong would be more pissed than you if I said anything to anyone.”

“Oh, he definitely would be.” Yunho chuckled, and brushed a strand of hair off my forehead.

“Mingi will be really mad too once he finds out, you know.” I said with a pout, “He’s already very suspicious.”

“I know, I have noticed.” Yunho sighed as my arms slipped from his shoulders to his middle, “I plan on telling him soon, but the timing needs to be perfect.”

“Like with me?” I teased as I wriggled my eyebrows at him, and he chuckled. He draped his arms around my shoulders, and leaned down again.

“Well, I quite like the outcome of it, so I can’t complain.”

“Huh, have you been waiting long to kiss me?” It was only meant to be teasing, but the way Yunho flushed again, I knew I was right. And it made me blush too as I shook my head at him, “Well, same here, if I’m being frank. I think I’ve had a crush on you since the first day we met…”

“Well,” Yunho took a deep breath and leaned so close his warm breath hit my lips, “I know I fell in love with you the very day you moved to the city, angel. I was passing through the neighbourhood as Spiderman and saw you bringing the boxes inside while you were belting out those high notes of the song you were listening to.”

“That’s so embarrassing!” I grimaced, shaking my head at Yunho.

“No, it’s actually really adorable. You can’t fathom how often you gave me cute aggression, but I had to hold myself back.” I looked down flustered, knowing the feeling way too well.

“Well, Spiderman, it’s a pleasure to officially meet you.” I winked as I looked in Yunho’s warm chocolate brown eyes, grinning from ear to ear.

“Y/N, would you like to be Spiderman and Yunho’s girlfriend?” I chuckled, pressing a quick kiss against Yunho’s lips.

“Don’t refer to yourself in third person, it’s cringey.” I whispered, feeling just a little bit shy as I bit my bottom lip, “But yes, I would really like to be Spiderman and Yunho’s girlfriend.”

“Great, because Spiderman and Yunho also really want to be your boyfriend.” Yunho whispered back, engulfing me in a bear hug, making me feel safe, like nobody else ever has.

Bro, I can’t believe I just bagged both Spiderman and my crush in one go.

↳Perm. taglist: @orshii @jjoongstar @tinyelfperson @thestarskiller @zuuhaa

@aaa-sia @gong-fourz @a-tinycarat @sooberryworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@anastasiamin860 @yunhogrippers @vcutparis @tunaasan @blvckarabixnvoid

@yusalterego @arigakittyo @slowee00 @jaerisdiction @hey-syia

@vnessalau @oddracha @chatsgotmytongue

❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

some recent photos of spiderman Yuyu hehet ^^

[rileyslibrary]

lazy day with simon got me giggling and kicking my feet in the air. it was mentioned that simon felt insignificant after leaving the army and i was wondering if you could do a little imagine on how he slowly overcomes this or how reader helps him whenever he feels this way thank you, absolutely in love w ur blog!

Hi, anon! I received your request before my vacation and promised myself I wouldn’t write anything while here. Well, I lied. Excuse my poor grammar; I wrote this on my smartphone, and proofreading is challenging. (FYI, this is the story anon is talking about)

———————————————————————

“If you throw a frog in a pot of boiling water, it will hop right out. But if you put that frog in a pot of tepid water and slowly warm it, the frog doesn’t figure out what’s going on until it’s too late.”

That’s Simon.

I believe that the veterans’ support group would be pretty beneficial in boosting his morale. After all, the reader can’t do much to help him overcome his issues other than support him, especially if they come from a different background and cannot relate to his experiences.

Loving him is crucial, but you’ll need a lot of empathy and patience to help him overcome his challenges.

I imagine him being sceptical at first, putting off his investigation of the group. Asking him whether or not he has taken any action would put him on the defensive, which would backfire.

However, if you passively encourage and indirectly let him realise the value of a community, he will be more intrigued by the idea. Sort of like planting a seed in his head.

So here’s how I see it playing out:

You’d begin by sharing your personal experiences. Say, for example, that one day you excitedly announce to him that you’re gathering with your classmates at your local hobby club to start a new project together. Or, perhaps, you’d invite them to your house for dinner and discuss whatever you do there. He’d be watching you all from a distance, feeling both intrigued by your relationship with them and excluded for not having that kind of connection with other people who have the same interests or share similar experiences with him.

And that’s how he’d start looking into the support group. In secret, of course; he wouldn’t want to make a big deal out of it and certainly doesn’t want you to do that either.

He’d casually drop the topic one day while the two of you took a walk in the park. You’d act cool about it, but your entire existence would be dancing on the inside. From then on, he’d gradually open up more, and you’d secretly root for him, pushing him behind the scenes and subtly facilitating his progress.

Up to the point where, one day, he’d come to the living room while you were watching TV, holding two identical black shirts, asking you which one he should wear for his first day of meeting with the group. Your opinion matters to him, and you can tell he’s nervous, just like a teenager attending his first party. You’d advise that he wear the one on the left—although you see no difference in them—and he’d agree, saying it was his first choice.

After the first meeting, he wouldn’t shut up about the group. He’d talk nonstop about someone called Andrew or Jack, and when you asked who these people were, he’d act offended and start giving you more information on them, like you were supposed to know them too.

“I told you about Andrew, the one who’s about to get married.”

“Jack, you don’t remember Jack? The one with the receding hairline who’s had enough and shaved his head off!”

Ultimately, he’d be the one organising dinner parties at your house with his new friends and their partners. And this would go on and on, and he’d be so happy for his new friends and start opening up more, not only to them but to you as well. He won’t overcome his issues per se, but he’ll begin understanding them by seeing them through other people’s eyes—people who feel the same pain as him.

And as for you? You’d be peeking through the curtain at the man he’s becoming, slowly, steadily, and under your discreet influence and subtle direction.

———————————————————————

Bonus drabble I was thinking quite a lot about but couldn’t embed it in the story above:

You come home from the supermarket and enter the kitchen. Simon stands there with an apron, reading from a recipe book and nodding. You call his name, but he doesn’t hear you over the sound of the blender mixing, so you pat his back. You startle him, but he smiles.

You point at the book and ask him what he’s doing.

He lifts his arms and looks at himself. He’s a mess. Everything around him is a mess.

“Baking?” He says in the form of a question as if he doesn’t even believe it himself.

You put the groceries on the kitchen table and survey the warzone. “What exactly are you baking?” You shout.

“Cake!” He yells back enthusiastically and points at his concoction in the blender, “for the group!”

———————————————————————

[ghostandsoap]

Someone Unexpected

John Price x Fem! “Peach” Reader

Tags: Price being a simp. Laswell being a queen.

Word Count: 2.3k

“I plan to be of good service to you, sir.”

It started as a suggestion to Captain Price.

At first, it was a gentle proposal that another member be added to his team. Price declined once, twice, three times. After his third refusal, the suggestion suddenly became a request…and then the request became a demand. 

Price fought it, and he fought it hard. He claimed that he didn’t need the manpower. He said that his force was just fine the way that it was. He stated that they didn’t need anyone else. 

But it seemed that the harder he protested, the faster he was losing the battle. 

John was promised that Kate Laswell would do all the work. She knew who to find, where to find them, and whether or not they were right for the position. Laswell knew Price, and she knew exactly what kind of person was going to meet his expectations…if not go beyond them.

John wasn’t having it. He grumbled and griped about it up until the moment that he sat down in Laswell’s office to discuss her choosing. He was rigid when he walked in, not even attempting to get comfortable when he sat down.

“Alright, Laswell. Who’s the lucky winner?” He groaned not, utterly miserable over the fact that he was going to have to give in to this.

“Come on now, John. That’s not very fair of you, is it?” She asked, furrowing her brows at him.

“I’m always fair,” He shrugged, shifting in the seat he was sitting in across from Laswell. “Am I so wrong for asking who you’ve so generously picked out for me?”

Kate didn’t see any sense in wasting time. She could sit here all day and stall, talking on and on to try and convince John not to be such a hardass about this. Although, Kate would be there forever if she attempted that, and Kate didn’t fancy spending her time trying to chip away at John’s stubborn nature. 

She reached into the top drawer in her desk, carefully retrieving a tan colored folder that was thick with papers on the inside. He had no doubt that they were organized and paper clipped into categories. He watched her open the front and quickly scan the first page before closing it again.

“Sergeant [L/N],” Laswell handed over a manila folder with all of the newbie’s personal information inside. “Confident, empathetic, and very intelligent.” 

“Empathetic?” John snorted. “Does he come with a bow in his hair?” 

“A little empathy wouldn’t kill you to have, Captain.” Kate fired back. “And she is as good as they come. I hand picked her myself.”

Price debated getting up and walking straight out.

Price knew that the world was different than when he was a rookie. More and more women were being employed and deployed to the military. He wasn’t against it per se, it was just that if he had the option, he would choose a man most of the time. In his experience, women tended to be less rough and could be totally unpredictable. Price couldn’t afford that.

“I need someone tougher than my usual pickings. I need someone that I can trust.” He argued with her. 

“You can trust her,” Kate said. “She’s valuable, John. She’s skilled in tactical training…both performing it and teaching it. She’s also advanced in first aid and field treatment.” 

That could be useful…

“Hm. What else can you tell me about her?” He went on, curious to know more.

“I’ve spent some time with her. She has quite the infectious personality, the kind that lights up a room when she walks in,” Kate said. “She knows when she’s the best in the room.”

So far, there wasn’t much that Kate had said that was selling Price on this woman. All he was hearing was that some innocent, happy-go-lucky gal was about to waltz her way into his team, expecting to run the show. 

Price couldn’t handle that. That was so far from what he needed.

“What do they call her?” He asked, wondering what kind of callsign was bestowed upon her.

Kate had a grin on her face, a certain expression that looked as if she were about to seal John Price’s fate.

“Peach.” She answered.

Price almost choked on his own saliva. Kate must’ve been kidding. She had to be kidding.

“Peach?” Price scoffed at such a girlish call sign.  “Why do they call her that?”

The smile on Kate’s face was genuine, but had a message behind it that let John know that he was letting his stubbornness shine through. Kate knew exactly the kind of person that would be right for Price’s force. There was no doubt in her mind that the woman she had in mind was perfect. 

“She has thick skin and is sweet as can be…” Kate beamed. “Not to mention, she’s a true southern lady.”

Oh no. No no no no. 

Price was biting his tongue. He had quite a few words to say about that. This had to be some kind of cruel, tasteless joke.

Not an American. Oh, God – anything but an American.

“Kate…” Price sighed in distress, rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand. 

“John,” She held up her hand before he could say anything else. “One chance. I’m asking you to give her a chance. I wouldn’t have made this arrangement if I didn’t think she was right for your team.”

“And if she’s not?” Price returned.

“Then you can say ‘I told you so’. Just give her a chance. That’s all I’m asking,” She repeated. “She might surprise you.”

Doubt it. Nice try, Laswell.

Neither of them said much after that. Kate had said all she needed to, and she basically kicked John out of her office before he had a chance to share his thoughts. He walked out feeling defeated, as if he had no say or control over his force. 

He wasn’t hopeful. Sure, some of the assets and characteristics that Laswell had mentioned could be potentially useful. But Price had encountered potentially useful people in the past, and none of them turned out the way he wanted.

It was out of his hands now, and the least he could do was do exactly what Laswell had requested – give her a chance. 

But there was just no way that she was as good as Laswell said. Nobody could have it all. Nobody could impress Captain Price.

For now, all he could do was wait and see.

***

Today was the day.

Price was told that she would be coming in today to get situated before the mission they were heading out for the next morning. He was going with the flow at this point. He was just doing what Laswell told him to avoid getting yelled at. 

He was preparing to leave, considering that they were less than 24 hours out from heading to their mission’s destination. Not to mention, he was feeling a twinge of anxiousness to lay eyes on Laswell’s prized pick. 

He waited a good while before making his way to make his official introduction. He didn’t want to seem excited about it because he most surely wasn’t. 

When his stalling time was used up, he made the journey to the spare bunk room where she would be staying for the night. It wasn’t like she really had time to get settled because she would be packed up and off the next morning. 

Her back was towards him when he arrived at the open doorway. She was occupied with rummaging through her pack and she didn’t hear the man’s footsteps approach and stop at her door. He knocked on the frame of the door to make his presence known, which then grabbed her attention.

She turned around at the sound, eyes wide and glittering as she made eye contact with him. His blood ran cold and his muscles went tight all over. He was physically stunned, because she was not what he was expecting. He went to introduce himself, but she identified him and was on it first.

“Captain Price,” She greeted, her southern drawl dripping off each of her words as she reached her hand out to him. “I’m Sergeant [L/N]. But everybody calls me Peach.”

So I’ve heard.

His heart started to patter away in his chest when heard her accent. It was thick and clear, and it fit her like a glove. Her words were spoken with genuine respect and admiration for the man she was speaking to. He almost felt…honored to be spoken to by her.

She wore a smile on her face proudly. It was a glowing kind of look that could bring joy to anyone who witnessed it for themselves. She had a gentle look to her. She didn’t look mean or like she had been hardened by the world. But there was something lingering in her eyes, swimming in the depths of her pupils that let Captain Price know that she had a tough side. 

She was beautiful. There was no other way to say it. She was quite easy to look at. He had a hard time looking away from her, like she’d disappear right in front of him if he even dared to glance away. 

Her hand was still held out to him, a flicker of confusion flashing over her face. He realized then that he hadn’t said anything. He had only been staring at her and analyzing her mentally…and probably making her think he was off his rocker. 

“Sergeant,” He returned the greeting, reaching for her hand to shake it. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Her touch was addicting. The sensation shot up his arm and tingled through his body in a way that made him feel all kinds of fuzzy and warm. It made it hard to retract his hand, and it wasn’t until she practically snatched her hand back that the handshake was broken. 

“Laswell has told me a lot about you. She speaks very highly of you, sir.” 

Sir. 

It felt dirty hearing her say that. Then that made him feel dirty. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with himself all of a sudden. Maybe he was coming down with something…

Get it together, John. Not like you haven’t seen a pretty woman before.

“She seems to think highly of you as well,” Price cleared his throat. “Told me all about you.”

He smacked himself internally for saying it like that. The change in the look on her face was subtle, but enough to let him know that you were thinking that he was a total quack. 

“All good things I hope, sir.” 

His knees wobbled. 

“Certainly.” He nodded.

He suddenly realized that he was out of things to say. He had planned a whole list of questions to scope out what kind of valuable assets that she would be bringing to the table. Now, he couldn’t remember a single one of them. She didn’t seem to mind the silence, but he felt like millions of ants were crawling all over his skin.

I wonder what the rest think of her…

“Have you met Sergeant MacTavish?” Price voiced his question aloud without really meaning to.

“Soap? Yes sir,” She answered. “I’ve also been acquainted with Ghost and Gaz, Captain.”

She was quick. She hadn’t even been here three hours yet. Price was beginning to think that she was several steps ahead of him already. 

“Getting on with them then?” He asked, and her head tilted to the side.

“Sorry?” 

It occurred to him then that his vocabulary and hers were likely very different. Her accent and dialogue was alien to him, the same way that he assumed his was to her. 

“I mean are you getting along with them?” He chuckled. 

“Oh! We’re gettin’ along just fine,” She smiled sheepishly. “I plan to be of good service to you, sir.” 

He hoped so. He really hoped so. 

“Good. Are you all set to go in the morning?” 

Is it hot in here? It’s definitely just warm in here, right?

“Ready to go,” She smiled again, and he felt a sweat break out on his forehead. “Is there anything I can do for you, Captain?”

Oh, Christ.

He had to get out of there. He needed to go and take the coldest shower that he could stand. Maybe it would cool him off and slow his heart rate down. He was surprised at himself, because he wasn’t usually so…suggestive. 

“I don’t think so, Sergeant. You’re all set,” He withheld from wheezing out an exhale of a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “I look forward to seeing you, Peach.”

The name vibrated out of his throat and seemed to echo through the air. He liked saying it, and suddenly he was excited to get to say it more in the future. 

“Same to you, Captain.”

With that, Price turned on his heel and practically sprinted once he was out of earshot. That was unlike any first encounter he had ever experienced. No one had ever brought him to nearly crumbling like that. It was freaking him out, and he needed quiet time to calm down.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how unexpected this was. How unexpected she was. His hesitation was now more of a curious feeling. He was curious to know how she would do and what she was like in general. 

Something was different about her…but he didn’t quite know what it was yet.

Peach had a lot to prove to Captain Price. She knew it, and he knew it too. The good captain wasn’t totally sold on her just yet, but this first encounter was definitely dissolving some of his initial reservations. He could get used to having her around and having her in his life.

 Little did he know that she would become a much bigger part of it than he originally anticipated. And for that, he was forever thankful. 

Maybe someone unexpected wasn’t so bad after all.

[blackjackkent]

Daily prompting...

"Did you just call this a family?" - Astarion

"You're like a brother to me" - Wyll

"You're always welcome in my home" - Jaheira

(Prompts for Found Families)

:D TY as always! Hope you enjoy! (As usual I had particular fun with the Jaheira one. XD )

-----

"Did you just call this a family?"

“There he is!” Karlach grins from ear to ear, swooping into Astarion’s line of sight. “Hiding off in the shadows as usual.”

“Observing, darling,” Astarion corrects her with a shrug. “I wasn’t making any effort to hide. And you certainly had no trouble finding me.” He lifts one eyebrow, looking her over. “I see Avernus hasn’t yet managed to dampen your spirits.”

She shakes her head. “Maybe not - though, gods, does it try. Not sure I’ve slept proper since the brain. But then I put my sword through a devil or two and it perks me right up. And how about you? I hear you’re a big-time adventurer now.”

“Oh, I get by, I get by,” he says with affected modesty, giving an airy wave with one hand. “Nothing like your military escapades, I should think; still up to all the old skulking but to a better purpose.”

“Wheyyy,” she says cheerfully, bouncing her weight from one foot to the other. “Who’d’a thought, right? You and me, both alive and tearing up bad guys, six months down the line. Turned out damn good, all things considered.”

He allows himself a slight smile. “In spite of all those who wronged us,” he murmurs. “I will admit… it does feel good to be able to show up and say I’ve made something of myself, at least for the time being. Though if I’d known Withers was planning to whisk us all off to a family reunion, I would have prepared a better outfit.”

Her grin widens. “Family reunion, eh? Did you just call this a family? You, Mister Loner Supreme?”

Having no circulation, he can’t blush, but his ears twitch and he clears his throat sharply. “Slip of the tongue, I assure you,” he says. “I wouldn’t be caught dead with such saccharine sentimentality on my lips.”

Karlach puts her hands around her mouth and shouts to the rest of the party. “HEY, EVERYONE! ASTARION JUST ADMITTED WE’RE A FAMILY.”

A chorus of cheerful shouts answers her, with Lae’zel’s voice rising sardonically above them from the far end of the camp. “Of course we are, kainyank!”

-----

"You're like a brother to me"

The siege has been going on for several hours when Hector hears Wyll give a low laugh all of a sudden. It’s about the last thing he expects to hear given they’re hunkered down outside the fortress of one of Zariel’s top lieutenants; certainly he couldn’t feel less like laughing himself.

Nevertheless, he grins involuntarily in response to the sound from his friend, but his eyebrows lift in confusion. “What’s so funny?”

Wyll chuckles again, shifting to lean his back against the wall of their makeshift trench. “Oh-- nothing. You’ll think it a quite odd thought, I suspect. I just… thought, out of nowhere, about that time I asked you to dance, back in the shadowlands.”

“Oh.” Hector blinks slowly. It is an odd thought, under the circumstances. “I haven’t thought about that in a while.”

“Nor I. Well, I wasn’t really thinking about it per se,” Wyll hastens to explain. “More about… how I got here. Everything we left behind. But not you, and not Karlach. You’re still with me, after everything.” He shakes his head ruefully and angles his hips up so he can peer over the top edge of the trench. “You must have thought me a bloody fool.”

“Wyll,” Hector says, very seriously. “I still barely knew my own arse from a hole in the ground then. I admired you tremendously.” A pause. “I felt terrible for hurting you, though.”

“Bah.” Wyll smiles reassuringly. “It’s far better this way. You… you’re like a brother to me, Hec. Wouldn’t trade that for the world.” His grin twitches into a teasing smirk. “Besides - I’ve seen you try to dance since, and it’s not pretty.”

“Knife to my heart, Wyll. Knife to my very heart.”

-----

"You're always welcome in my home"

“High Harper--” The man is very young, most certainly a new recruit, so wet behind the ears that he is practically dripping on the front porch of Elerrathin’s Home. He looks at Jaheira with that earnest respect that comes from those who have heard of her only in song and never met her in person. “My apologies for disturbing you at this hour.”

“Of course,” Jaheira says. Her expression is deadpan; it is an expression she is well-practiced at, expertly masking whether she is irritated, amused, or simply curious. “You are always welcome in my home, my young friend. As are all Harpers.” She steps back, drawing the door open. “You will, of course, submit to the usual security check.”

He blinks-- and then his expression steadies; to his credit, he does not allow himself to be thrown by the unexpected statement. “As you say, High Harper,” he says earnestly, following her inside. “Of course it behooves someone of your rank to take all precautions.”

“Most certainly,” she says. “Wait here, please.” She halts him in the middle of the house’s small living room, then calls, “Fig! Your services!”

A small child of perhaps five years old emerges from one of the side rooms; her shoulders are squared and her eyes eager and excited. “Yes, Commander!” she pipes up.

The child stalks directly in front of the young Harper and stares up at him imperiously. “Name?” she says fiercely.

The Harper blinks again, casts a sideways look at Jaheira, but the High Harper’s face is still completely unreadable. “Uh. Simons,” he stammers, looking back at the little girl. “Wesley Simons. Harper.”

“Uh huh.” Fig screws up her face with an expression of deep concentration and walks a slow circle around him, examining him from all sides. “And uh…” She tilts her head, then glances at Jaheira and asks in a stage whisper, “What is it next?”

“Divest,” Jaheira murmurs, with the very slightest hint of a smile.

“Oh yeah.” Fig points a stubby finger at Wesley’s chest. “Divest yourself!” Then, again in a whisper, “That means take your sword off.”

Wesley’s lips twitch. “Ah. Yes, ma’am,” he says; with a single quick motion, he strips off his sword belt and lays the weapon on the table. 

Fig nods approval. “He’s clean, Commander!” she says; her serious demeanor breaks and she grins excitedly. “Did I do good?”

“Perfectly done, cub. Now run along.” Jaheira waits until the girl has darted back out of the room, then looks at Wesley and jerks her head to the side. “You - come. We shall speak in my office.”

Wesley follows her with a soft laugh. “Is this hazing, then, High Harper? Or does she do this with all your visitors?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Harper Simons,” Jaheira says gravely. “This is standard procedure.”

[fungifanart]

Rating each TWST boy based on if/how well I think they can dance and what style I think they can do

Heartslabyul:

Riddle: 8/10. Probably knows how to waltz ‘cause it’s a pretty prim and proper style that would mesh well with his whole “queen of hearts” aesthetic (also because his mom forced him to learn).

Trey: 6/10. Also knows how to waltz, but only started learning after Riddle enrolled at NRC so he could support him on the dance floor if need be.

Cater: 3/10. Probably knows AT LEAST three magicam (TikTok) dances by heart and I mean that as an insult.

Ace: 5/10. Can probably do modern/hip hop reasonably well, but not amazingly.

Deuce: 0/10. Can’t dance. (On his own. Remember that Vil specifically had to drill it into him constantly for SDC)

Savannaclaw:

Leona: 4/10. Probably knows a bit of everything because he was forced to learn due to his royal status, but only remembers the barebones basics ‘cause he doesn’t see the point.

Ruggie: 6/10. Similar to Ace in that he’s decent at hip hop, but not much beyond that.

Jack: 0/10. Yes, dance can be done as a form of exercise, but I doubt that thought ever crossed his mind even once.

Octavinelle:

Azul: 7/10. Probably learned how to swing/jazz dance to reinforce his suave mob boss persona.

Jade: 10/10. This man Waacks and you cannot convince me otherwise.

Floyd: 7/10. Floyd’s a bit of a special case because I don’t think he commits to any particular style, but none of his movements would look bad per se.

Scarabia:

Kalim: 9/10. I don’t think I need to explain myself on this one.

Jamil: 10/10. I also don’t need to explain myself for this one either.

Pomefiore:

Vil: 11/10. The man’s a world famous performer. Knowing how to do every dance under the sun flawlessly has to be his MO or he wouldn’t have gotten this far.

Rook: 8/10. Probably has knowledge of every style, but has a focus on waltz/ballet because they're traditionally very graceful.

Epel: 0/10. Same reasons as Deuce. (But with more toxic masculinity involved)

Ignihyde:

Idia: 5/10. Probably knows a bunch of idol dances, but wouldn’t dare do them in front of anyone.

Ortho: 9/10. Idia probably installed MMD onto him so he can look up and replicate any style literally whenever he wants.

Diasomnia:

Sebek: 0/10. They call this man a wall for a reason and it’s ‘cause he is RIGID on the dance floor.

Silver: 1/10. Could probably learn if he wanted to, but is too busy sleeping.

Lilia: 7/10. Probably picked up numerous cultural dance styles over his travels.

Malleus: 10/10. Same as Leona, except he actually knows how to do every dance that he learned well and maybe even knows some advanced techniques.

[feybeasts]

I’m in a weird place lately. Prolly mostly the stress of a busy weekend and being on my own for a while, but it has me doing a lot of navel-gazing. I wouldn’t call it… anxiety, per se, but my brain’s been kinda caught on the notion of… whether or not I have the right to exist outside of my niche as an artist and person.

I know, the knee-jerk response is “yes, of course, everyone has that right,” it’s certainly something I’ll jump to defend for others, but in practice I guess I’ve felt… othered. The problem with putting yourself out there is, you put your WHOLE self out there, and that means the reactions are gonna be to the real you, not your act, not your facade. I own that as best as I can, but man, the fear that people can look at the most authentic you and go “go away, actually, you belong in your little corner, nowhere else” is rough.

Whether or not what I create isn’t someone’s cup of tea- and I’m a Niche Furry Artist Who Sometimes Does Kink Stuff, what I do isn’t gonna be plenty of people’s cups of tea- I’ve always gone at things with the philosophy of “well, I keep to myself the things that aren’t for you, with the hope that you’ll not judge me on things that aren’t for you to begin with,” and I think that’s how people should act just… in general, but… people don’t.

I know a lot of this hooks into the wider communities I’m a part of- queer folks, neurodivergent folks, trans and nonbinary folks, we have a lot of struggles when it comes to just… being taken as we are, without judgement, and god knows there’s a lot of infighting even within those communities, so it could be this is just… part of living the life I live, but I dunno. I guess it gets tiring, sometimes, dealing with that shadow of doubt hanging over you, that worry that people don’t see you as a person- they just see you as the most easily ridiculed aspect they think they can boil you down to.

I wish there was a point to any of what I’m saying here, but there really isn’t. I guess maybe, for folks who have had the same doubts or who think I’m someone who has this all… figured out or whatever, you see that it’s still a battle no matter how far you’ve come, and that’s okay.

I’ll bounce back, and so will you. Always do.

[primusfortuna]

Rouge ⟡ Love Wrapped in Ribbons of Gratitude (05)

[01] [02] [03] [04] [XX] [Sun] [Moon]

“The Wandering Bard”

Rouge: I’m gonna go check out the alcohol over there.

As Rouge-san leaves the general shelves for the alcohol corner, I find myself calling out to him.

Emma: Um... Unless I’m imagining things, I noticed you haven’t looked at anything but food and alcohol, Rouge-san.

Emma: Are you just really picky or something?

Rouge: Food and alcohol are things everyone can savor together, no? And I wouldn’t say I’m picky per se, but...

Rouge: As a rule, I try not to give away anything that can last.

Emma: Huh...?

Rouge: Think of it this way. I’m the wandering bard Rouge-san. Footloose and fancy free, I go wherever the wind blows.

Rouge: So I don’t really have much, and I try not to leave anything behind.

Rouge: ...I mean, there’s also the sad fact that I have to sell everything to cover my debts.

Emma: When you say you “don’t give anything that can last,” what does that―

Rouge: Oh, that’s just my own choice. Don’t worry about it, go pick out anything you’d like.

Rouge: Wait, ahhh!? Hold on! I see a type of brandy that everybody in the know talks about!!

Rouge: This stuff’s so rare, you can’t find it anywhere in Ricordo! I can’t believe I found it here! It’s my lucky day~!

(Rouge runs off)

Emma: (Footloose and fancy free... wherever the wind blows...)

Thinking about Rouge-san’s behavior, and the meaning behind those words, a little pain tears through my chest.

Emma: (Does he think that... he’ll disappear from Moon Wanderers someday too?)

Realistically speaking, I know that you can’t expect people to be together forever.

But, even so...

Emma: (...That makes me sad.)

Emma: Hey, Rouge-san...!

Rouge: Hm? What’s up?

↪ Gaze at him (Moon +16)

Emma: ...... Rouge: Emma-chan... you’re gonna burn in a hole in my face. Emma: I’m sorry, I just― Rouge: Careful about gazing at a man like that. You might get our hopes up~

↪ Tell him honestly (Sun +16)

Emma: About what you said a second ago... You and I― Rouge: Hehe, sorry. Don’t stress about it. Really. Rouge: I knew I’d break your heart by talking about it. I was stupid for that. Emma: Rouge-san... Rouge: Now! Let’s get back to our super fun gift spree.

He turns his back on me, ending this on a light note. I’m seconds away from crying out “Wait!” but...

At that moment, our previous conversation flashes through my head.

Rouge: I’m positive that mom really was thinking of him.

Rouge: It’s for your own good. It’s because I love you. —— Those beautifully dressed words make it hard sometimes.

Emma: (Rouge-san has made his stance clear. If I thoughtlessly told him “That makes me sad”...)

Emma: (I might just make things awkward for him...)

Rouge: Hey hey, Emma-chan! Don’tcha think Gran would be all over this alcohol?

Emma: Ah... Yeah. You’re right, it looks like that one brand he’s always drinking.

Rouge: All right! Then we’ll go with this as a bribe―I mean, present―for Gran~!

Rouge: Oh right, please address the bill to Moon Wanderers!

Emma: Not happening.

Rouge: Ah. Still a no-go?

Seeing him send me a wry smile with the bottle in hand, I can’t help but send one back.

Emma: ...You can’t claim this as business expense. What would you have even tried to claim it as?

Rouge: Obviously, entertainment!

Rouge: Hey... Emma-chan, can’t you help me through this somehow?

Emma: Sorry. All of your expense claims fall under entertainment, Rouge-san.

Rouge: Ehh~ Pleaaase~?

Emma: Buy your gifts with your own money.

Rouge: Yes ma’am...

Rouge-san and I continue this way, chatting as we pick out gifts for all the Moon Wanderers.

But I still can’t shake off the heartache I feel, seeing him choose presents that no one will be able to keep.

← Prev ❖ Sun Route ❖ Moon Route

[kell-be-belle]

Hello hello! Would love 4, 10, and 13 for the ask game 💜

Hello, dear heart! Thank you so much for the ask!

4. Song that reminds you of someone you cherish

Drinking Song for the Socially Anxious. It doesn’t apply to any one person, but applies to my group of friends as a whole. When I tell you that I would not be here today without them, I well and truly mean that. They understand all my little idiosyncrasies and accept them without question or  judgment and there is something so unspeakably comforting in being known in such a deep, intimate way. In knowing there is someone (or in my case someones) out there with whom you can unashamedly be yourself.      

10. Song that makes you angry

Farewell Wanderlust. I wouldn’t call the feeling anger, per se, frustrated would perhaps feel the more appropriate term, but whatever the feeling it’s enough to eat a man alive. It touches upon the struggle of someone trying desperately to be better, but circumstances beyond their control- primarily other people- are actively sabotaging all their efforts to do so. Up until recently, I felt this struggle on a deep and personal level. The line “Now take a good long look at what you’ve all done to me” hits particularly close to home. 

13. Song that makes you brave

Battle Cries. I was stuck between Battle Cries and Blossoms and while Blossoms certainly does make me feel unstoppable, Battle Cries makes me feel well and truly brave. Bravery is a thing that happens in spite of fear and I feel that that is the overall message of Battlecries. Yes you’re sad, yes you’re in pain, yes you’re growing old, but in spite of all of those things you’re still fighting with all you’ve got. Joey’s tender little whispered “I’m doing fine” never fails to break down all my barriers. It’s something I’ve whispered to myself in the mirror on more occasions than I can count.

[Ask game can be found here]

[kurt-tessy]

all of you anons calling kurt gay just don’t want to admit that a straight man is cooler than you <3

Haha… I wouldn’t call myself “cool”, per se. I’m too much of an idiot for that. Not that I’m complaining, my wife loves how stupid I am

[timbsnotsosecretteaaccout]

Watch out folks I’m bout to be a moppy sad sack for a minute!!!

So just got back from spring break and man homophobia is hitting special tonight. Fortunately it’s no longer the living situation because I got the hell outta dodge. Just, something else.

My mom’s boyfriend needed to use the bathroom. Usually fine, but a trans friend was in the apartment. I love this trans friend. He is amazing and cool and great. 10 out of 10 space geek who loves fungi.

The problem is that… my mom’s boyfriend’s head runs on gay jokes (not the fun ones) and gender jokes. Now I know enough about him to know that when push comes to shove he won’t be actively aggressive towards a trans person, but contrary to “anti-snowflake” theory (or whatever you want to call it) words can hurt. I don’t want to do that to my friend.

Fortunately my other roommate was in the shower with her boyfriend so I used that as an excuse:) but now I’m sad. I’m sad that a part of me is convinced that my family would try to move me out of the house because it will cause my gayification. Jokes on them, of course; I gayified myself.

But while I was at home my mom was pushing religion down my throat. At every turn. I ended up having a panic attack in the church because she took me to this special advent thing where a man took out a whip, banged it on the floor, and described torture in detail. My mom let me leave, but she said that he was right to do it after and I felt sick. She then asked me to do a religious thing every day after and I said no, but she wouldn’t get the hint.

My dad didn’t do that, but he did something too. One of my dad’s friends had a child transition to a boy recently. I was really excited to hear this, but everyone else was talking about how confused “she” was, and it hurt. It hurt to think that is what my dad would be saying behind my back if I ever transition.

I’ve started wondering if They Them would be the best pronouns for me. I remember once in high school I put on makeup to “manly” my face. I rationalized it as me wanting to do a theatre thing but I felt confident in it. I don’t dislike being a girl, per se. I just know there is something else there. And when I am androgynous I feel beautiful and powerful and happy, but today I realize I can never be that version of me with my parents without them hating me for it. I hate it.

Ps if you did read through all of this I’m sorry. There wasn’t really a point to it. I just wanted to write it somewhere. Even now I’m debating deleting all of this, but part of me wants to share it, if only because it is a real part of me that I can’t share in the real world, but I can share it to you. I’m not gonna tag this so if you see this, I guess you get to know me

I’m scared to post this, but I also really want to to

[trashpandato]

Shield You

“God, I forgot how terrifying she can be.”

Alex’s voice is loud in Kara’s ears. She stands shoulder to shoulder with her sister but doesn’t reply. She can’t, because she is entirely focused on the scene playing out in front of them.

“I mean, I watch her with Esme and they’re so quiet and gentle with each other. And then with you. I mean, you know how she is with you. And then she turns around and pulls this?”

This, the scene they are both watching, is Lena tearing into a stranger, a young man who made the mistake of approaching Kara in public. Not that there is anything wrong with that, per se. Since revealing her identity to the world, Kara has gotten used to people coming up to her to thank her for the work she does, or to ask her questions about being a superhero. There are also the many little girls who stare at her in awe, and Kara can’t lie, she enjoys it.

However, the attention Kara gets isn’t always entirely positive, and today is an example of that other side of being known publicly. Kara didn’t even hear all of what the man said to her, but what she did hear was lewd and gross. Lena didn’t hesitate; she pounced.

“Should I, do I need to intervene? She looks like she’s about to rip him apart and scatter the remains.” Alex sounds impressed and concerned in equal measure.

Kara swallows. She knows what it’s like to be on the receiving end of this Lena, and it makes her shiver. The icy tone, the way her face betrays little more than the sheer determination to destroy, it’s both familiar and alarming.

In the end, intervention isn’t necessary. Kara watches as the man retreats, head down, without another glance in their direction. Lena turns and takes a few hasty steps toward Kara.

“Are you okay?”

Kara blinks. The sudden shift in Lena’s tone and demeanor is enough to give her whiplash, but she can’t help but feel warm at the deep concern in Lena’s voice.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m pretty sure you made him soil his pants there, Lena. Especially when you told him you’d be calling his mother about today.” Alex chuckles, clearly amused.

Lena just shrugs. “Not my first rodeo.”

“You know, you didn’t have to do that.”

“What, and let him walk away thinking this is acceptable behaviour?” Lena frowns and shifts back and forth on her feet.

“No, I just,” Kara pauses and takes a breath, “I could have dealt with it myself.”

Lena’s body goes perfectly still and she studies Kara’s face for a long moment, brows pulled together. “I know that,” she says, and it sounds pained. “But if you’re asking me to, to sit back and watch you get attacked, I can’t do that.”

And just like that, today’s interaction is no longer just about the vulgar commentary from a stranger. Kara can see how Lena’s expression shifts, tenacity on full display despite the underlying worry. She’s seen this version of Lena before, too. The one who wouldn’t let her face Lex without programming a life-saving protocol into the Fortress’ systems. The one who agreed to use her still volatile magic to protect Kara’s humanity. The one who is Kara’s shelter from any storm they get thrown into, even when she is the storm.

Kara knows she wouldn’t be here without Lena, that she wouldn’t want to be here without her.

Alex clears her throat and the noise pulls Kara out of her thoughts and back into reality.

“Alright, I’m going to,” Alex points behind her shoulder, “I’m heading back to the office. You coming, Kara?”

Kara never takes her eyes off Lena. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Alex shakes her head a little but smiles at them and walks away. When she is sure that her sister is well out of sight, Kara reaches out and brushes against Lena’s hand with her fingers.

“I guess I’m still getting used to this. Getting recognized. And everything that comes with it.”

Lena hums.

“I have no idea how you handled being a Luthor in public all these years. The vitriol. The hostility.”

“The bombings,” Lena adds with a quiet laugh.

“Those, too.” Kara shudders.

Lena’s eyes bore into hers. “I know you’re perfectly capable of defending yourself. I just, I can’t just stand by and do nothing. Please don’t ask me to do that.”

“I won’t. But promise me something?”

“What?”

“Keep yourself protected, too?” Kara watches as Lena nods carefully. “And if you need help hiding a body, call Alex, not me. I don’t need to know.”

The tension snaps and Lena breaks into a proper laugh, loud and warm, the kind she only ever seems to share with Kara. Suddenly, Kara forgets all about any unpleasant public attention, or that Alex asked her to come to the DEO.

Lena reminds her when they’re half-way back to her office and Kara speeds off, but not before pressing a quick kiss to Lena’s cheek.

Later that afternoon, Kara places a somewhat excessive order at the local florist for delivery, with strict instructions to leave no surface of Lena’s office untouched.

She grins when she sees the text from Lena the next morning: a single red heart.

[6okuto]

for @evanox : sage, dialogues 3 and 8, gn!reader

"may i have this dance?" "hey, can you look at me?"

EEK thank u saur much for the req 🙁☝️ everyone reading this rn go read her stuff NOW! and sage wherever u are,,.,., i hope u are Ok

“may i have this dance?”

sage stretches out his hand, a teasing smile on his face as he’s bowed dramatically in front of you. he wasn’t the only one in the hall asking his partner to dance—your eyes scan the party to see a dozen other couples walking towards the floor.

you blink up at him. "me?"

sage raises a brow at your response. "who else would i ask to be my partner other than my partner?"

you've found yourself swayed by your boyfriend more times than you could count during your relationship. but there's something about the proximity that comes with dancing that makes your face warm and heart rate quicken. you think about how awkward it could be, what could go wrong, when sage calls you again. “babe?”

when you look up at him, his head is tilted as he waits for your response. before you can think, you’re already opening your mouth to speak. “what if i trip and fall and embarrass myself?

and you think he'll laugh. it was a silly catastrophizing idea and sage would laugh a little at you. but all he does is smile again, hand still open for you to hold. “okay, well, then i’ll fall with you. i’ll make it real dramatic so everyone thinks it was all me.” and you know he isn’t lying when he reassures you, which, maybe, is concerning in a different way. but it’s enough to put your palm over his, and let him pull you near the edge of the dance floor.

you fiddle with the hem of your outfit the entire walk when sage turns to look at you. “you ready?” he positions his hands, letting you do the same. your face somehow feels even warmer, but you nod in time for the song’s lyrics to start. sage starts to sway, taking small steps so you don’t move too close to the middle or any other couple. but you’re still tense as you bite your lip and fail to make eye contact, choosing to watch everyone but the man in front of you.

“hey,” he calls softly. “can you look at me?”

sage’s usual teasing smirk is nowhere to be seen, a comforting smile taking its place. his voice is almost as soft when he speaks. “hi.”

“hey.” you manage to smile at your boyfriend before your eyes start to flicker away again.

“uh uh uh,” he tuts, tapping a finger against your cheek to get your attention. “don’t focus on them—focus on me. it’s just you and me.”

your grip tightens slightly as you let out a breath. sage continues to watch you. “have i told you you look especially good tonight?” he asks. you take a second to process his question and send him a look. “no, seriously. don’t look at me like that—you look great. are you single by chance?”

you snort at him and he grins. “no, sorry to disappoint but i have a boyfriend.”

“well, of course you do. why wouldn’t you?” sage sighs, though his amusement never falters. he plants a kiss on your forehead and you could almost forget you’re dancing. even here, he’s still sage. he spins you and blows a low whistle. "amazing technique," he says. he hums to the tune of the song playing, singing a few of the lines to you while laughing in between. he redirects you when people dance past as easily as if it were breathing. and maybe it wasn’t because he was a dancer per se—still clumsy with a few steps and looking at what others do—but because he was with you, and that was enough.

and despite the rough start, you’re laughing as the song ends when sage whispers something about trying to break dance “to really give them a show” because “how hard could it be?” he’s holding you up slightly as he laughs himself, letting you go only when you finally catch your breath. you’re vaguely aware of the attention on the both of you start to walk back to your table, but at this point, you couldn’t find yourself to care. and even though he wouldn't voice his thoughts, sage couldn't either. not when his focus was on you.

he breaks you out of your thoughts only moments later when his arm finds its spot around your waist and he speaks up. “see? we didn’t fall and break an ankle. i think we could go on one of those dance competition shows. the hell is it called—so you think you can dance?”

"oh yeah? you think we could win?"

"don't you remember that one twirl we did? personally i think with some practice we could become pros."

you hum in response, not fully entertaining the idea while you realize the song ended faster than anticipated with him. you're not really sure how he manages to make things pass faster, easier, but he always did. you smile softly at the thought before pulling him in to kiss his cheek. “thank you, sage.”

he freezes and blinks in surprise, stopping behind your chairs. to be honest, if you had said no sage would have sat down beside you and teased everyone who went up. but you said yes, so he grins at you for the umteenth time that night instead. “anytime.”

[clairecrive]

"Bookish talks"- Billy Russo x reader

A/n: again, not requested but the idea popped into my mind after reading @faulty-coding piece. (I think)

Warnings: a bit of angst, misunderstandings but fluffy ending

Word count: 1.5k +

Tagging: @thefictionalgemini , @tarkanelima-blog , @pansysgirlfriend , @acciorudolphx (if you want, you can add yourself to my taglist by filling this form)

My masterlists are here.

"Yeah, she's been going on and on about this book. I've got five more minutes to go."

Well, the things you find out when you turn up where you're not supposed to be.

To be fair, you didn't mean to eavesdrop. When you got out that morning you had forgotten to take your wallet. Here explained why you had returned not even ten minutes from where you first walked out. You didn't even think that Billy would be still at home, so you didn't bother with announcing yourself.

And look what a surprise you were met with.

Taking your wallet, you hurried out of Billy's apartment set on not hearing anymore.

*+* *+* *+*

The day passed as it normally would. You had pushed back Billy's words in your mind because you had work to do. It wouldn't be smart to unpack what it meant so early in the morning when you had so much to do.

You weren't mad per se. You were rather hurt that he had never told you that he didn't enjoy your talks about the latest book you were reading. So yeah, let's add "stupid and guilty" under your current mood. You didn't want to put Billy in a position where he had to bear with something he didn't like. But how were you meant to know if he didn't talk to you?

This is not the moment, you reprimanded yourself with a shake of your head.

Coherent with your routine though, at six, Billy's call came. Of course, he acted normally, nothing had happened for him, after all.

"So, you coming around tonight?"

"Nope, book club meeting tonight."

"Oh, right. Was kinda hoping you'd ditch them."

"They're my outlet for my book nerdiness, Billy. Wouldn't want to annoy anyone with my craze over books."

"Who said you do?"

"You did."

It wasn't your intention to confront him on the matter over the phone. It was an instant reaction.

Billy didn't gasp but the silence you were met with was more than enough to show you that he'd been taken aback.

"Y/n-"

"It's okay, Billy. I don't mind if you don't like listening to me talking about books. I just wish you would have told me. I wouldn't be feeling so stupid and guilty for all the time I've made you waste now if you had."

"You didn't waste my time."

From that moment, things between you had Billy went back to normal. Sort of. He hadn't confronted you on the matter anymore and of course, you wouldn't bring it back up. So you settled in your usual routine, without of course any mention of books.

"Mh," looking at the clock on your desk you noticed that if you only have half an hour to finish your last assignment and before you need to leave, " I've got to go now, Billy. I'll talk to you soon." You ended the call without waiting for a response.

*+* *+* *+*

You were currently on Billy's sofa, leaning on him while you watched a documentary on Ancient Rome. It was interesting and it made you think about a book you had read on the subject a while ago. You opened your mouth to share your thoughts with Billy but a flashback of his words stopped you.

What if he hated it when you did that too?

"You're awfully quiet tonight." His voice startled you from your thoughts.

"A bit tired."

"Haven't got any anecdotes for me tonight?"

"Nope."

Your eyes didn't leave the tv screen. Yes, the documentary was interesting but you also didn't want Billy to know that you were lying. He had the uncanny ability of sensing whenever you weren't being genuine.

Out of the blue, the documentary stopped and the sound of the control hitting the coffee table told you that it was Billy who had paused it.

His hands grabbed your arms and pulled you away from him so that he could look you in the eyes.

"You're holding back."

"You're holding me back." Was your witty yet unnecessary reply. Billy's jaw clenched but the grip on your arms didn't tighten.

"Is this about the book thing?"

"We're watching a documentary, Billy. Why would it be about the book thing?"

"You always have something to say when we watch this stuff. Something you've read somewhere, some time ago." He explained, quoting you.

"I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me stuff," he added more softly when you didn't speak.

"Oh, I know I can. You just bitch about it with your friends whenever I do though."

His eyes squinted lightly, if his hands weren't on you, you probably would have missed how his shoulders tensed too.

"So it is about the book thing," he murmured releasing your arms.

"Well, Billy, you've basically fallen under the category of the white man who complains about how annoying his girlfriend is to his friends."

"I've not said you're annoying."

"You might as well have," you huffed crossing your arms, turning away from him.

"I know I sounded like an asshole but that's not what I meant. I really don't mind when you go off for ten minutes on some book you're reading."

"Spare me the bullshit, Billy. You don't have to lie to not hurt my feelings. It's too late for that anyway."

"I'm not lying." he insisted offended by your accusation but you didn't bother responding to him.

Billy sighed, one of his hands wiped over his face as he, no doubt, was trying to think of how to make this right. But maybe it was your time to speak.

"I realise that me sharing every thought or little thing that happens can be overwhelming." Fiddling with the fingers of your hands, you tried to find the right words.

"When me and Karen chose our university major, I was sure that our friendship was going to end. It happens, you take different paths and suddenly you go from best friends t someone you say hi to whenever you meet them around." You stopped to look at him. Bily's eyes were solely focused on you, so you continued.

"To avoid that, we developed a sort of routine where we would tell each other about our days, what we did, the things that happened, people we had met and stuff like that. We'd usually met once a week if not more often and this way we managed to strengthen our relationship and here we are after ten years, still best friends."

"Even if we went our separate ways, neither of us felt left out or behind from the other's life. I knew her friends even if I hadn't met them and since she told me everything I felt like I was as part of her life as I was when we shared every class together."

"I'm a rather introverted and reserved person, Billy. I'm sure you gathered that by now. I guess sharing this kind of things, books I read, things I do and stuff is my way of making you an active presence in my life. Because I care about you and I wouldn't want you to feel left out. Also because I don't feel the need to filter myself around you." A pause. "Well, did."

During your soliloquy, you didn't meet Billy's eyes. It felt deeply personal to share this with him but you hoped it would help him understand. Not necessarily make him enjoy your bookish talk but to make him at least not think of you as annoying.

Billy didn't speak. He had let you have your moment because it was clear that there were things you had been keeping to yourself. You hadn't been dating for long, only a couple of months, so you were still getting to know each other.

Yes, Billy wasn't exactly a bibliophile but he enjoyed the thought of being someone you trusted so much to the point where you're not afraid of opening up.

He really wanted to kick himself for having ruined that. For making you feel like a burden.

Leaning towards you, he gently turned your face to him.

"What you've heard the other day was me explaining to Frankie what I was doing." His voice was soft as if he was afraid that he'd ruin the intimate atmosphere by speaking louder.

"I was listening to your message about that book and yes, it was seven minutes long and yes, you were going on and on about a character's motives and his psychology but I didn't mean to imply it was annoying." His eyes flickered between yours and he seemed truthful enough but you were still hesitant.

"It's okay if you don't enjoy it, Billy. My father hates whenever I do that but that doesn't mean that he loves me any less." You offered him another way out.

"Well, I guess this is why you told me you're not looking for a man like your father."

"Are we good?" He murmured, eyes flickering between yours. You nodded leaning into his touch.

"Trust me, you're nothing like my father." you chuckled, accepting his words for what you knew knew they implied.

Smiling at you, Billy's hands reaching to cup your cheeks.

"Do you promise to talk to me if there's something wrong?" You asked him, needing the reassurance.

"Don't I always talk your ears off when you leave your stuff hanging around?" True enough but you needed him to say it.

"I promise." He conceded, nose bumping into yours before kissing you softly.

"So, got any fun fact to share?" He asked you again, pointing to the tv with his head.

"I've got a few, yes." You shily smiled at him.

"Hit me." Leaning back on the sofa, he got comfortable as he encouraged you to speak.

[richmond-rex]

THE KING’S GREY MARE (★★☆☆☆) — reviewing the blueprint of all Ricardian novels

I debated with myself for a long time if I should try to write a review for this book. My dislike was so strong despite my already low expectations for the story, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to be impartial in my review. I’ve given up on trying to be impartial and instead decided to explain to you how I feel about this story. This is a not-so-short review of the historical fiction novel The King’s Grey Mare written by Rosemary H. Jarman. Read at your leisure!

The first thing I need to tell you is that this book is, as explained by @lady-plantagenet​, a story about Elizabeth Woodville, but not about Elizabeth Woodville’s life per se. Although it starts at the time of Elizabeth’s youth at the court of Henry VI and Margaret of Anjou (a theory that has been deemed unlikely by now) and ends at her death, the story follows a few other people near Elizabeth Woodville who impact on her life. The narration seems to be a strange mix of the third-person omniscient point of view and third-person limited. It’s like the narrator sometimes focuses on the thoughts of a certain person and that person impacts the way the narrative is told, even to the point of repeating what was said before. It sounds confusing, but Jarman strangely manages to pull it off. 

The second thing about this book is that it was published in 1973 and you can tell how dated it is, not only by the way the author chose to make Elizabeth Woodville a platinum blonde to convey her superior beauty—which weirdly became the standard portrayal for Elizabeth Woodville since then—but also by some very touchy aspects of the story that are racist, sexist, xenophobic, as well as scenes based on dubious consent that are meant to be read as the epitome of romance. Although the author claims to be sympathetic to Elizabeth Woodville, I thought she made a perverse use of this historical figure, depleting her of all internal logical and sensible actions, rendering her only a pretty doll filled with spite in order to be a channel for a literal demon, Melusine. Even Elizabeth’s mother, Jacquetta, is described as possessing ‘a devil-virgin’s smile’.

[Elizabeth] rose naked from the water and came to him, her wet hair shrouding her body like a tumult of silver weed. This was Isabella, his bride, no longer the image of an untouchable saint, but wanton, mischievous, maddening.

It is a pretty passage, but Jarman’s depiction of Elizabeth borders on dehumanising several times. Not even the man who loves her (in this case, John Grey) sees her as a person, but as a nymph, a demon. Throughout the novel, Elizabeth’s unnatural beauty is used against her to associate her with the water demon Melusine. It’s like the author punishes her for her beauty, the uncanny cold beauty the author herself decided to give her. Although Jarman tries to excuse the inexcusable actions she imparts on Elizabeth Woodville as choices beyond her control (as, according to her, Elizabeth was simply an instrument of fate), that does not explain why she makes Elizabeth so cruel and devoid of any kindness. In turn, it allows other characters to treat Elizabeth with the utmost harshness because, according to the story’s internal logic and evidence, she deserves it. This is Edward IV at the time he was supposed to have fallen in love with her, for pity’s sake:

He flung down the knife and sprang up. His towering shadow blotted the sun. He cursed her, calling her wanton, bloodless, jade, a whore that should be a nun, though there was no cloister devious enough to hold her.

Really, in face of his treatment, only Jacquetta’s witchcraft and a love potion could explain why Edward married Elizabeth at all, especially as in this story Edward IV is undoubtedly already married to Eleanor Talbot (and Elizabeth knows it). Elizabeth Woodville in this story submits to her mother’s grandiose dreams of making her queen of England so she can take revenge on Warwick and the house of York who slew her first husband, Sir John Grey, at the 2nd Battle of St Albans. No at any time she’s loyal to the Yorkist cause, which feeds on the Ricardian claim that the Woodvilles were Lancastrians painting themselves in Yorkist colours in order to snatch the crown and soil the throne with their impure and grasping blood. Elizabeth not only engineers the deaths of Warwick, Clarence and Desmond, but also is responsible for the murder of Desmond’s two little boys, something I had never heard anywhere. I can only assume it’s the author’s moralising justification for the way Elizabeth would come to lose her two children. At one point in the story, a random character asks: ‘Why is the Queen’s Grace so full of hatred?’

Of course, there’s no explanation for Elizabeth’s unrelenting unkindness other than it makes Elizabeth’s enemies, especially Richard III, look better in comparison. Whilst Elizabeth made her tongue the ‘tool of blackness’, Richard’s benedictions literally lift her unspoken curses against Warwick. Whilst she rages, plots revenge and pinches her daughter so hard it breaks her skin, Richard of Gloucester is so good not even his enemies can find a sensible excuse to hate him. This is Dorset and Elizabeth about Richard at different points in the story:

‘Richard of Gloucester,’ he added disdainfully. ‘The King’s pet and popinjay. He sickens me with his talk of loyalty, his fussing with weapons, his book-learnt strategy. And Edward listens to him.’

‘The people love Richard! They love him better than they loved his brother [citation needed]. They admire him for his new statutes and his justice. Whatever the barons say, he has won the people’s heart!’

Jarman couldn’t be more impartial in her story even if she tried. Richard’s enemies hate him because he is so [checks smudged writing on hand] loyal, learned, and loved by the people. At some point, inexplicably, Hastings decides to ally himself with Elizabeth—Jarman blames it on Elizabeth/Jane Shore seducing him to the Woodville side because, obviously under the sexist logic in which her story operates, with the exception of a few individuals all women do is lead men astray. Even as Hastings takes Elizabeth’s side, he hates her so much that his decision is only explained by the author’s internal need to make Richard of Gloucester execute him in an act of undoubted justice. In the story, they even say Hastings got a trial before his execution, something that did not in any way happen in real life.

Hastings about Richard of Gloucester: ‘Tomorrow I shall engineer the killing of one who was dear to me, to a man I loved. One who himself loved me well, who rode with me against Lancaster, when he was a sickly stripling youth. Gloucester, who took my hand, not two moons ago – Jesu! who took my hand today! – saying: ‘Thank God for you, Will Hastings. Thank God for you, in these times of strife and madness.’

Hastings about Elizabeth Woodville: ‘And Elizabeth, upon whose coming I once looked with spleen and disapproval, shall be again supreme. Elizabeth, who put down venom like a ratcatcher throughout the court. Elizabeth, whose policies are loathed by me. She who broke her sovereign’s heart with Desmond’s death, and used her brother like the most skilled provocateur to bring wretched Clarence to a bubbling end. Elizabeth, who split the soul of Warwick until he knew neither day from night, nor friend from foe. Elizabeth, whose messages I meekly bear, whose will I wreak! [...] Woodville and Lancaster wench, you never warmed my lust. Yet to Edward, you were Bathsheba, Salome …’

It is absolutely vile to say the least. You could say the author is simply being ‘historically accurate’ in depicting men’s hatred of women if the text itself didn’t justify this hatred. In fact, Elizabeth truly did everything that Hastings is accusing her of in this story. Men’s hatred against women is morally justified in this novel at every turn, so it makes it even more stunning how kindly Richard III treats women, even the ones who acted against him. He welcomes not only his nieces but also Elizabeth to his court even if no chronicle ever said that he did welcome Elizabeth, and he treats Elizabeth/Jane Shore with remarkable leniency. At no point in the novel it’s mentioned Richard made Shore perform a walk of shame in the city of London, or that he wrote to Shore’s second husband trying to dissuade him from marrying her.

‘That is Lady Lynom. She was released from prison last fall. She is married now to the King’s Solicitor-General.’ ‘But she was a traitor! Conspirator and harlot – condemned by the King!’ ‘He pardoned her,’ said the man, dipping his head on his chest as if to weight his words. ‘He showed her mercy.’

Parts of history are omitted, bent and twisted to satisfy Jarman’s vision of Richard III as a tragic benevolent king who met his unfair end at the hands of a spiteful woman & her grasping kin and by the devious plotting of a man & his mother led by their delusions of grandeur. The story makes it clear that England becomes a worse place after Henry Tudor takes over, and, shockingly but not completly unexpected, his Welsh and Breton men are blamed for much cruelty. At Elizabeth of York’s coronation, Jarman makes them massacre civilians and, disgustingly and pointedly, a little innocent boy. All because they were unaware of English customs and decided to attack the population when confronted by English people and their traditions. I was shocked, but unfortunately, xenophobia is not an uncommon aspect to be found amongst Ricardians when talking about the Tudors.

Weigh my words, and before you run back to your mistress shed a tear. For England and Plantagenet; their curse is accomplished.

‘After today, I have had enough of Tudor’s England. We will leave at once.’

Weirdly, and this will sound like going off on a tangent, this novel also depicts a character of colour, a character described as a ‘moor’ named Salazar who came from Spain after Tudor’s victory. For no reason, he acts as the novel’s magical negro for two seconds. Jarman describes him in terms such as ‘tall, coal-black and mysterious, more elemental than man’, ‘he gathered her to his coloured breast’, ‘he looked down at her, so fair and small against his own dark mystery’. I am....... disgusted, but I feel like it was important to point this out. There was literally no reason for Jarman to include this character of colour whilst being racist about this addition.

Everyone who is associated with the Tudors is described as visually repugnant: Reginald Bray is a shadowy man who stinks and lives ‘like a hog’; John Morton has a ‘bulky body’, a fleshy face, ‘all wattles and dewlaps’, a ‘lizard eye’. Henry Tudor himself is described as having ‘dry, rust-coloured hair’, an almost lipless mouth, eyes that ‘were as cold as a preying bird’s’ — to sum up: ‘he looked like a starved infant offering macabre love’. He’s nothing but a paranoid mess who literally pisses himself on the field of Bosworth, a man not ‘altogether sure of his own manhood’ who coughs as though he had always had tuberculosis, who is constantly looking for reassurance in the pikes of his bodyguards, who uses Elizabeth of York as a baby-maker, and who betrays Elizabeth Woodville and kills her sons in the name of some obscure motto (‘Tudor must destroy Plantagenet’). Disappointing but not surprising for such a novel.

Accordingly, even ‘neutral’ characters are unable to offer any sympathy for the Tudors. This is John Grey thinking about child bride and rape survivor Margaret Beaufort when she was still in her early teens:

Secretly he thought of Margaret Beaufort with distaste. She flaunted at court as if her descent were of the most royal. Her bravado made no pretence at covering old history. The Beauforts were merely descended from John of Gaunt and his mistress, Kate Swynford. Bastards all, legitimized by Richard II with the proviso that none of the line should ever aspire to the Crown. Yet Margaret strutted like an Empress; her small black eyes could intimidate. There was something unnatural about her.

‘Didn’t you know? She wed and buried him almost within the year. She has a son, Henry, two years old. Poor Edmund never saw the child.’ ‘Holy Jesu! What killed him?’ ‘Margaret’s terrible learning, so they say,’ chuckled John. ‘With her philosophy and Greek, her disputations and dissertations, Edmund, unsure of his own wit, pined and died.

I could go on and on about the double standards about the Beauforts and all the other Plantagenet bastards who are depicted as noble and praiseworthy in Ricardian novels but I’m tired and this review is already long enough. In this novel John of Gloucester, Richard III’s bastard son, is a fine youth whose only ‘fault’ is his undying loyalty to his father and who is unjustly framed and executed by Henry VII, something that didn’t happen in real life. He engages in a little unnecessary and dull romance plotline with his cousin Grace Plantagenet, Edward IV’s natural daughter who is one of the only good female characters in this novel. She loves Elizabeth Woodville even though Elizabeth is nothing but unkind to her—she loves Elizabeth like a dog loves its master despite the kicks it receives, presumably because for a Ricardian author there’s nothing more inspiring than the motto ‘Loyaulté me lie’ and loyalty beyond reason is the noblest quality a person can display. Grace is so good she even tames wild animals that set out to attack her.

In contrast, fair-weather Elizabeth of York is a fickle, insipid girl who cries at every turn only to laugh scandalously loud at the next moment. Interestingly though, perhaps to prove her weak character, she doesn’t cry at her father’s death, only when she hears she won’t be considered a princess anymore. Of course, she also cries when she’s about to marry Henry VII and when she’s jilted by Richard III, the uncle she fell in love with. She’s a girl who says ‘how should I know?’ when asked about her brothers, who is ‘content to lie and wait, and reckon nothing’. Ricardian authors often make use of Elizabeth of York to prove Richard III’s worthiness but they don’t even bother to give her a full-fleshed personality. Irrational behaviour is, of course, a trait that the younger Elizabeth shares with her mother, who comes to regret her spiteful behaviour at the end of her life, after she trusted Henry Tudor only to be betrayed and imprisoned by him. Henry is the one ‘who should have earned all her hatred, all her destructive powers. She realized numbly that these had been expended on others less worthy of them’.

Perhaps the vilest thing about this novel is the way it blames Elizabeth Woodville for the death of her two sons. Jarman even has Elizabeth admit that much to herself:

I killed them. She twisted, shuddering [...] I killed them. I among others put them to death by whispers, destroyed my sons through word of mouth [...] The souls of those I love, Melusine! and their bodies too! I killed them. Like the Greeks, who, to ensure victory, act it out beforehand, I wrote their doom in chapter and verse. I cleared the road for Tudor, Beaufort, Morton. And the man who kept my sons safe I had killed with ignominy.

What else can I say? This story has all the hallmarks of a true Ricardian novel: Social justice warrior Richard III, too good, too cultured, too pure for this world? Check. Irrational, wild, vengeful and coldly beautiful Elizabeth Woodville? Check. Jacquetta the love witch of Luxembourg? Check. Despicable Henry Tudor who literally pisses himself on Bosworth Field? Check. Crying mess Elizabeth of York in love with her uncle? Check. Fragile as glass Anne Neville doomed to die from the start? Check. Woodville women serving a vengeful, bloodthirsty demon named Melusine who gives them mysterious powers? Check, check and check. It’s so extra, it even has Bishop Morton raising a young Thomas More in his household with the purpose to create a true story master to blacken Richard III’s name forevermore.

What I didn’t know was that Rosemary Jarman was at least original about the above points and every other Ricardian novel that came after Jarman’s novel in fact took from her story. I’m giving it two stars because the prose is truly beautiful at times, and there’s some interesting use of narrative foils (for example, Elizabeth Woodville and her ‘sin-eater’ Grace Plantagenet) that would be better applied to original characters than pigeonholed into historical figures. It loses three stars for poorly veiled historical innacuracy, awful characterisation, and sexist, racist and xenophobic narratives. The narration is beautiful but at times hollow in my opinion, unable to inspire any emotion. If you’re one who is looking for beautiful prose but who gets angry at the twisting of historical facts, this is not a novel for you. It will only give you a headache. 

[justsomeoneunordinary]

The Booty and the Mechanic

Small Town AU with Mechanic Bucky and High School Teacher Tony for @gayspacesprinkles ♡♡♡

Usually it’s just board only, but I’m including a ficlet as a thank you for the generous extra boost—and also because I did feel inspired to write this while making the board. Hope you like! :)

[Ko-fi commission info]

T, 1k, Flirting, Humor, Lots of Swearing Because I’m Me | AO3

Tony Stark was in his garage.

Tony fucking Stark, the High School’s Physics Teacher, was in his garage. At goddamn six fucking thirty a.m, half an hour before opening, because the man had been banging at his door as if there was a matter of life and death.

At first, Bucky had tried to ignore it but Stark hadn’t given it a break, so he opened up, freshly out of the shower because it was half an hour before opening hours damnit, just to be greeted by a lascivious smirk and a “Now, that’s what I call a good morning.”

Bucky hadn’t been able to do anything but blink in utter confusion when Stark patted him on his naked chest and then just pushed past him into the shop. It took him a few seconds to realize there was no actual emergency happening before he was able to turn around and mutter a disbelieving “What the fuck”.

Stark just kept walking further in, rummaging through his stuff as if he owned the place. Which he didn’t, because that’s Bucky’s garage and Bucky did not invite him in.

“Don’t worry Barnes, I don’t need you. I just need some tools and I will repair my car myself. Go and do whatever you were doing, don’t let me bother you.” Then he looked over his shoulder and added with a cheeky wink, “Or finish here. I definitely wouldn’t mind watching.”

Bucky found himself for the first time in a weird state where he couldn’t decide if he should flirt or curse. So he decided to do nothing and just stare dumbly instead. The silver car outside had quite a big dent and looked suspiciously as if Stark had driven through the forest and crashed it against a tree. Which didn’t make any sense, because no one in their right mind would drive through the forest this early in the morning.

Bucky wasn’t superstitious per se, but this here was a small town. A small town with a forest at its edge one could sometimes hear eerie noises from. No matter how beautiful the green idyll or how peaceful the river and the waterfall were, everyone with common sense knew to keep away from a forest like that when it’s dark or foggy or no one else around like at six fucking thirty a.m.

And apropos—Stark was still in his garage, opening one drawer after another without a single care, just taking the tools he needed and throwing the rest back away again.

Bucky growled in displeasure. If Stark didn’t want help, then that wasn’t Bucky’s problem. This was Howard Stark’s son after all, and while it was commonly known that he had cut ties with his father early on, Bucky didn’t doubt that he knew his way around an engine.

No, the problem was, that this was Bucky’s garage and those were Bucky’s tools and he had just come out of the shower because it wasn’t opening hours yet godfuckingdamnit, which meant Stark had to wait until then, like any other ordinary customer too.

Bucky was just about to tell this arrogant prick off, already taking a deep breath, when he noticed Stark had bent over to open the lowest drawer, causing Bucky to be greeted by a butt. A wiggling butt, mind you. He wasn’t quite sure why Stark was wiggling his butt—Bucky never had to wiggle his butt whenever he bent over for that drawer—but the sight was making him close his mouth with an audible click instantly.

He couldn’t deny it was a nice butt. An infamous one too, since Tony Stark’s butt was an often and heatedly discussed topic at the queer bar down the street. Not quite as often as Sam’s, but a close second nonetheless. And Bucky never has had the chance to inspect it himself—until now.

Honestly, he couldn’t’ve averted his eyes even if he had wanted to. This was the bubbliest bubble butt he’d ever seen in his life. And Bucky had seen quite some butts in his life—but never a peach so round and firm, literally made to be squeezed and kneaded and eaten. God, he’d sell his soul to take just a bite; he was almost drooling already.

“If you’re going to keep staring so intensively at my behind, I expect you to at least invite me on a date first,” Stark slowly got up, his big brown eyes staring into Bucky’s, a smirk on his face way too self-satisfied for someone trying to scold him.

There was a short flash of embarrassed heat rising up in his cheeks before a slow grin spread on Bucky’s lips. “Yeah, I don’t think so, sugar,” he drawled and let his eyes deliberately roam Stark up and down. “You ogled me first, so it’s only fair I returned the favor, don’t you think? And considering you’ve invited yourself into my shop before opening, I’d say you are the one who owes me a date.”

This was obviously not the answer Stark expected at all but judging by the delighted glint in his eyes and the widening smile, he didn’t seem to mind it in the slightest. “Oh, this is how we’re playing this? Touché Mister Barnes, I’m impressed.” Then, he started to pick up the chosen tools and walk towards his damaged car with a sway in his hips Bucky instantly zeroed his entire focus on. “Well, I really need to repair my car first and get to the school ASAP before the little goblins start thinking the exam won’t take place today. Not to mention that I have no intention of giving Fury more fuel for an actual reason to fire me when I arrive too late for the third time in a row.

“But tonight?” here Stark’s voice took a lower tone, his back still facing Bucky but the grin he must be wearing very much audible to Bucky, “Tonight, I’m picking you up, eight p.m. sharp. Dress nicely.

“Or just come like this; I certainly wouldn’t mind the view,” he added with a deliberate once-over and bite on his lip over his shoulder. Fucking tease.

“Oh, it’s so on,” Bucky growled and watched as Stark very obviously wiggled his butt while bending over the hood of his car.

Bucky decided right then and there that he didn’t mind having Tony fucking Stark in his garage at goddamn six thirty a.m. Not when he was going to do the actual fucking later on.

This was a nice butt after all.

[nothingtolosebutweight]

All Night Long

| Pairing: Heahmund x Ivar

| Words: ~7100 [AO3]

| Warnings: Amateurish Smut 🔞/ The author tried to be funny

| Summary: Ivar had a good day regarding his chronic leg pain. So he joins his brother as he heads to a club, not suspecting that his evening would even get better.

| Taggies: @jackson–t ♥ @youbloodymadgenius @istorkyou @dini73

After giving them so much grief and heartache in my main story, I decided to give them some fun for a change (and myself several headaches during editing). 😎

The music was loud and captivating. It thundered in his ears and Ivar felt the thumping bass clearly in his legs. The vibration was amplified by the high-tech leg braces he was wearing today. It was a good day for him. One on which he went out willingly. Even Hvitserk had been surprised when he'd asked him during lunch if he could join his club tour tonight. Ivar hadn't even had to ask before if his brother was planning to go out at all. That he used every other weekend to make new acquaintances and to de-stress, as he called it, was as certain as the disappointed faces of Ivar’s own dates when he once again had concealed his handicap before the first meeting.

Far too often for his young age, he had had to turn down invitations to come along because he didn't feel well. Unlike Sigurd, his two oldest brothers were always very eager to take him along. They wanted him to enjoy his youth, and most of all, they didn't want him to feel excluded or abnormal in any way. While others his age were constantly hanging out at parties, having fun and letting loose, he spent most weekends at home playing games on his console, watching series on his laptop that he had already seen several times, or working out his chest and arms. He was actually quite proud of how well-toned his upper body was.

It wasn't that he wanted to be anywhere but home, safe, on bad days. He didn't necessarily envy his brothers on those, but of course, he would like to be generally healthy and to not have to divide his life into bad and good days. That the condition of his legs wouldn’t define whether he could have fun or not. Even today, he wasn't sure how much longer he could or even should endure the bass like this. He would probably regret it again tomorrow, but one evening with a little fun was worth the risk of renewed pain.

Another reason he didn't go out as much anymore was that he didn't feel like dealing with stupid people who tried to shake his confidence. In everyday life, the curious glances often no longer bothered him. He had gotten used to them. Ivar was usually able to ignore them so that they didn't interfere with the self-confidence he had built up despite all the hurdles he had to face. He didn't blame most people for just staring at him. He knew that the mechanical skeleton around his legs was not a common sight for most people, that people tended to look whenever they saw something that didn't seem to fit into their world. He understood that and probably would stare at people like him too, just to quench his curiosity.

It wasn't that he was ashamed of his assistive technology per se, either. He loved the device made of aluminum and steel and was more than grateful to his parents for not shying away from the expense. He was finally able to walk with it, also without crutches, as his legs were supported by the sturdy frame and thus gained additional strength and endurance.

What bothered and upset him, however, were the mocking, amused looks. Looks that let him know he was not a normal young man and those were usually accompanied by snide remarks or cruel jokes at his expense. Often, those very reactions came from people his age. That's why clubbing wasn't always fun for him. Although outwardly he pretended that none of this bothered him, it very much did so. Words or looks sometimes hurt him more than his legs did on bad days. It was a pain against which no painkillers helped.

Today, Ivar wouldn't allow himself to be distracted by that. He had firmly made that resolution when he had gotten ready. He was in a good mood and had chosen an outfit he felt very confident in. The tight dark jeans with the ribbed look suited him well. He knew it did. It emphasized his backside especially well and even the exo-skeleton that started at his thighs and went all the way down to his ankles didn't stop him from feeling good about himself. The tight-fitting dark shirt that accentuated his muscular chest did the rest he nonetheless felt sexy in some way. His shoulder-length hair wasn't tied into a man-bun today, as he preferred to wear it open when looking for a flirt.

It had been far too long since he had had fun and a good flirt or at best even a good fuck. With this thought in mind, he took two condoms from the package in his drawer, which had been stored there for ages and still hadn't been used up. Although it wasn't even a bulk pack.

Of course, it wasn't necessarily easy for him to find someone who wasn't directly put off by the outward impression. His face and upper body attracted many people, men and women equally.  Ivar liked both. However, as soon as the glances wandered off and lingered on his legs, always lingering longer than necessary, in most cases he could see the desire or interest, that had been clearly there before, disappeared from their eyes. Perhaps they thought that dealing with him was too tedious, that he would be such a burden that even the phase of getting to know each other wasn't seen as being worth it.

Therefore, his sexual experience was quite limited if his right hand didn't count as a reliable source of pleasure. Nevertheless, he was not completely inexperienced. Hvitserk on the other hand had already bedded many chicks at his young age and it seemed that he could make another mark on his non-existent list today. He had already abandoned him half an hour ago. A blonde girl with soft curves had caught his brother's attention and had him under her spell. Actually, Hvitserk had promised him that he would spend most of the evening with him, that he would stick around in case something bad happened, but Ivar couldn't blame him. The girl had been really adorable, and his brother was known for not saying no as soon as an opportunity to get his cock some action presented itself.

Ivar himself was still sitting at the bar, sipping at his soft drink, and every now and then he let his gaze wander through the club, which was pretty full today. Actually, though, he was no longer on the lookout. He had already spotted someone who had piqued his interest, and it seemed to be mutual. Whenever his gaze landed on the handsome face at the other end of the bar, he glanced, as if by chance, into two eyes that were already looking at him, too. The other man was clearly interested in him, there was no doubt in Ivar's mind about that. 

There was the slight possibility that he had seen him standing before and that he was now staring at him to satisfy his curiosity. Ivar thought about it briefly, but the look with which the guy was already eye-fucking him didn't seem to be one that served to please his fetish for a little freak show - as his schoolmates liked to call his appearance.

Ivar took another sip and continued to look at the handsome stranger over the rim of his glass as he pondered how he should proceed. His target held his gaze and didn't turn away in shame for being caught staring. In a way, he was even challenging him. At least, Ivar had the feeling of sensing something in that direction in the other's captivating eyes. The latter had also raised his glass, letting it brush against his lips every now and then to take a sip followed by licking the moisture from his lips.

Every time their eyes met, Ivar felt heat rising inside him and every time he saw that sneaky tongue sliding out from between those sensual-looking lips, Ivar wanted to be as close to that mouth as possible. He felt an insistent desire to explore what a kiss with this man would taste like. The combination of his rough look with the probably sweet cocktail promised to be an interesting mix.

Ivar didn't want to be too hasty. There was that tiny voice in his head that he could be wrong here. That his hope that he would end up lying under this man and begging for more was clouding his current thinking. He was so impressed with his charm and outward appearance that it seemed like hitting the jackpot, and that, as sad as it sounded, still seemed a little unreal to him.

Despite the distance, the other's eyes seemed eerily intense to him. Their bright color, which Ivar could perceive even from a distance, fascinated him, drew him under their spell. Those eyes gave the man something mysterious. This effect was enhanced by the dark short hair and dark beard that stretched across his jaw and above his upper lip, forming a perfect frame for those crystal-like eyes. He himself often got compliments on his blue eyes, but in his opinion, they didn't come close to this man's. These were magical. They made him nervous the longer they lingered on him.

Strange as it may sound, even in his mind, Ivar had the feeling that they were already in the middle of foreplay. Their intense eye contact alone made him feel a tingling in his lower region that he wanted to get rid of the pent-up inner tension as soon as possible. His hand, hidden in the darkness under the counter, had already unconsciously found its way to his crotch. He had begun to shamelessly satisfy himself with slow, circular motions from the wrist, still staring into the handsome face that contaminated his thoughts with a lot of dirty stuff. Ivar imagined what the man's hand would feel like on his cock, or even better, what it would feel like to have his throat massaging his already dripping tip. Looking into those eyes while that mouth would be busy with his cock would surely make him cum within seconds.

He bit his lower lip at the thought and closed his eyes briefly to better internalize the image of it. It was time, Ivar thought to himself. He was ready for the next step and in the worst case, he would just jerk off in the bathroom if the guy wasn't interested in further activities after all.

After a short deliberation, Ivar decided to go to the back of the club. There were separate areas for sitting, chatting and, above all, making out. Most importantly, the music there wasn't quite as loud as here in the bar area. If the other would take his hint to heart and follow him, he would like to have a conversation with him first. One in which they wouldn't have to yell at each other to be able to understand each other acoustically.

Ivar stood up and with another glance at the other side of the bar assured himself that his disappearance would be noticed. Much more, that the other would see where he was going. On the other hand, he also made sure that his handicap would be visible. Ivar was still not sure if the man had seen all of him already or if he had only been attracted by his face and upper body so far. He had gotten into the habit of being especially careful to play an open hand, because he had already had to experience too many embarrassing situations. He even limped a little more than necessary so the guy would automatically glance at his legs to avoid a disgusted look on his face later.

It took Ivar a while to find one of the secluded seating areas where no couple was yet uninhibitedly indulging in their urges. After all, the evening was already well advanced. Most had already found their flirt for the night and were now getting to know each other more closely.

In front of an empty bench, Ivar stopped and glanced a bit anxiously over his shoulder. He hoped that the look he had given the man earlier had been unmistakable, and to his relief, it seemed that way. He had a pursuer. With a gesture of his head into the hollow, Ivar let him know where he would be waiting, and a moment later he slipped inside and settled on the well-padded seats he preferred not to see in the daylight.

It wasn't long before the man reappeared in Ivar's field of vision as he bridged the last few meters to the seating area. Ivar had so far only seen him sitting down - the brief glance over his shoulder hardly counted, and so he now used the moment to let his gaze glide shamelessly over the other's body.

The man was tall and had a slim, but not lanky build. Ivar was sure that there were some well-defined muscles under the white shirt. The wide V-neck already revealed a glimpse of a well-shaped chest, and the tip of a tattoo on his sternum also became visible the closer he approached. He must have caught himself a bad boy, Ivar thought to himself, while a wicked smile was forming on his lips. The tight jeans, which were torn in several places like his own, also pointed to this suspicion, and the rebellious-looking boots rounded the outfit off perfectly.

When the certainly older man stopped in front of the opening, a grin formed on his lips as well. A gesture that not only triggered a shiver of excitement in Ivar that went straight to his excited cock but also made his own grin grew even wider. There was something dominant and predatory about that grin. He liked that. Very much in fact.

"Hey gorgeous, can I buy you another drink before I join you?"

The classic, Ivar thought, as he shook his head in slight denial and grinned in amusement at the pet name. The man's voice was somewhat swallowed by the volume in the club, nevertheless, it sounded rough and gritty, matching his rebellious demeanor. It made him even sexier and the raspy voice alone felt like a wicked tongue pleasuring his ears.

"No, thank you. It's bad for my legs," Ivar said, keeping a straight face. It was a phrase that had spontaneously crossed his mind. He used it as a kind of last-ditch attempt to openly state his handicap. The stranger's gaze slid to said body parts, and Ivar saw the latter's eyes pass over his exo-skeleton, tracking the way it wrapped around his legs.

"Why? Would it harm them? Are you on any meds that don't mix well with alcohol? I can also buy you another non-alcoholic drink if you'd like."

Ivar's grin softened, turning more into a smile. The stranger didn't seem to be deterred. Rather, he seemed genuinely interested and this made him happy. Ivar waved the man closer, pointed to the empty seat next to him and waited until he had taken his seat before leaning in closer and murmuring his answer straight into his ear. He would go all-in now, feeling confident that his legs didn't seem to bother his jackpot-like catch.

“Neither. It’s just that Alcohol causes them to spread.”

The laughter that followed was contagious. Ivar had another big grin on his face as he leaned back a bit to look at the laughing man, clearly enjoying the fact that he had won sympathy points with this cheeky remark.

"I promise you that I’ll take care of this side effect. No need to be concerned about that," the guy put his arm on the backrest behind them and as if by chance, let his fingertips slide over the back of Ivar's neck, meanwhile looking at him piercingly. "So, tell me. What do you want?" The emphasis made it clear that his question wasn't just about deciding on a drink.

"I want to get to know you better first before I swallow anything you offer me."

Ivar wasn't a prude, but he at least wanted a name to go with that handsome face, and a little more information wouldn't hurt either. His counterpart nodded and smirked again at the suggestive remark, while he seemed to briefly consider what he should blurt out to him. Ivar felt fingers gently stroking his cheek and a strand of hair being pushed behind his ear. He held the man's gaze as long as he could, but was interrupted when the stranger leaned in more to speak to him in the same way as Ivar had before. He felt hot breath on his ear as the guy's lips moved so close he could almost feel them against his skin.

“Heahmund is the name, age thirty-three, born and raised in Sherborne, Ireland. I am here for a job, still have three months to go. My shoe size is 9.5. I have three siblings and am allergic to wasp stings. I usually prefer festivals to clubs. Good old rock music with some cold beer and greasy pizza is what gets me going, but today I'm willing to give it a miss. The club here seems to have something good after all. Now tell me, with whom do I have the pleasure?" He finished his little introduction with an open-mouthed kiss against Ivar's neck before pulling back to look at the boy directly again.

Ivar chuckled because of the nonsensical things the other had listed. At the same time, he felt new goosebumps forming on the back of his neck. With each new word, the man's breath brushed over his skin, making it sensitive to the sensation. The kiss came as a surprise to him, made him moan softly and look at the man dreamily - unintentionally.

"I'm Ivar, twenty-one. You could say I'm here for a job, too. One that blows me away, if I could state a wish, and if I know people properly, I prefer kissing over talking." He kept it short and provocative, masking his own nervousness with boldness as he winked at Heahmund at the end of his statement that made his intentions clear. It had been far too long since he had felt such a tingle inside him. Ivar felt as if his whole body was electrified. The age difference didn't bother him. It just promised that hopefully, the older man had enough experience to be able to drive him out of his mind.

"Do we know each other properly now, gorgeous?" Already during the question, Heahmund had brought his mouth treacherously close to Ivar's own wicked grin.

"I would say so. It almost feels like we're close to getting married, considering everything I know about you now,...god-sent," Ivar couldn't stop smiling. He felt comfortable in Heahmund's presence. However, the choice of his pet name made him embarrassed. It seemed exaggerated, unfitting, and Ivar somehow felt a bit pranked as well. So he chose a similarly over-the-top term of endearment, which Heahmund also took with a wide grin.

They didn't waste another second. The kiss that followed was anything but a shy probing. It was heated from the first moment their lips touched, destined to raise the temperature between them straight to high degrees. Ivar felt like he was going to melt at any moment.  The heat rose inside him at an incredible speed, turning his cheeks into a sea of crimson.

As Ivar had expected, Heahmund was dominant and tried to push him into a passive role by taking the lead, but Ivar didn't let him do it that easily. Despite his lack of experience, he wasn't willing to submit so quickly. He felt two fingers under his chin holding him in place and a hand on his lower back pressing him closer towards his counterpart. Ivar let this happen, but playfully bit Heahmund's lower lip, tugging at the red flesh and then sliding the tip of his tongue over it in an apologetic gesture.

Much to Ivar's delight, Heahmund let him take the lead, welcomed him to a passionate dance of their tongues, and he even seemed to enjoy it, given the pleasurable sounds he made. They were accompanied by Ivar's own moans, which only grew more intense as the hand slid further down his back and began to knead his buttock.

Ivar let one of his hands disappear in the black hair, pulling at it lightly every now and then as a kind of warning when Heahmund tried to tame him again. His other wandered shamelessly to the older one's crotch, resting there, just lightly pressing his palm against the spot where he could feel the outline of what he was lusting after. What he was actually thirsting for.

Ivar felt as if he were in a frenzy. He had known the stranger for only a few minutes, but he already longed for his touch, for his lips, and if he had his way, this dizzy-making kiss would never end. He would have liked to sit astride Heahmund's lap, rubbing against him in this position to give his attention-hungry cock some affection as well. But his leg braces made this impossible. He could bend his legs, but not to the extent that would be necessary for him to sit like that without hindrances.

The hand that had been kneading his butt moved back up to higher ground, slipped under his shirt, and crawled up his side until a thumb brushed over his nipple. Another groan escaped him and Ivar pressed his hand harder against the bulge that had formed in Heahmund's pants, stroking along the promising contours.

Heahmund pleasurefully moaned into the kiss, deepened it once more and took his fingers from Ivar's chin. His now free hand moved down, began to undo the button and zipper of his own pants. Much to Ivar's astonishment, just as he had managed it, Heahmund reached again for his hand, which in the meantime had stopped stroking him, and guided it back to his arousal, silently asking for more. Only this time without the annoying denim that muffled the touch.

Ivar did so for a few strokes, earning deep moaning as a reward, but the surroundings they were in made him shy away. They were still in a club. Somewhat secluded, but still not completely hidden from prying eyes. He broke the kiss and let his hand slide over Heahmund's spine until his fingertips reached the back of his neck, so he could caress him there. He leaned his forehead against his counterpart's, smiling at him a little sheepishly.

Heahmund stole a few more pecks in that position before Ivar slid his head onto the older man's shoulder, starting to lick across his neck. He trailed up to his ear, nibbling at the earlobe real quick and then murmuring his next words in a seductive tone.

“I would like my promised drink, now. And I want the same you had. It tastes like heaven.”

A pinch in his nipple was the first reaction to it and it made Ivar gasp in surprise. The opening of his lips was shamelessly exploited and Heahmund initiated another deep kiss, stealing what he thirsted for before retreating again with a grin.

"Are you really going to make me walk around the club with a boner right now?" Heahmund asked. Somehow doubting whether Ivar was being serious now.

"Yeah. I could really use a drink, and maybe I like to make the other people here a little jealous, too," Ivar explained, which elicited another amused snort from the former stranger.

“All right then, gorgeous. Who am I to deny you a wish, huh? If you want a drink, I’ll get you one,” Heahmund bent over once more and stole another quick kiss before standing up, adjusting his cock in hopes that his erection wasn't too obvious, and closing his pants again - not without a frustrated sigh leaving his lips. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Although I don't think I have to worry about you running away from me," Headmund said in an amused tone, dodging the attempted blow to his upper arm.

It was a joke at his expense, but one of the kind Ivar preferred. It showed him that Heahmund didn't make a big deal about his handicap. That he wouldn't treat him like a raw egg and that was okay. Ivar wanted to be respected, but not pampered. Even with two healthy legs, running away wouldn’t be an option. He was much too spurred on. Hungry for so much more. The foretaste promised only great things and Ivar could hardly wait until Heahmund would show up again. He even regretted it a little bit that he had sent him away, but he could really use a drink and he also needed some time-out to catch his breath.

He used a moment of prudence, took out his cell phone and typed a message to his brother. In case he would come looking for him later, he wanted to let him know in advance that he had found someone and that Hvitserk didn't have to wait for him - if his brother even remembered that he had actually arrived with Ivar, and therefore should perhaps make sure that he would go home with him as well.

Ivar had been slightly worried whether he had upset Heahmund with the abrupt end to their make-out session, but when he saw him come back and their eyes met again, his doubts were blown away. It was obvious that he was still the sole target of that predatory gaze and that Heahmund still seemed hungry.

"Thanks, Heahmund,” Ivar said as the elder slid back into the seat beside him, placing the drink he had brought on the table in front of them."That's a pretty unique name, isn't it?" Ivar stated after saying the name aloud for the first time. “Or is it common in Ireland?" Turning sideways so that his upper body faced the other a little better, he reached for the drink to take a sip.

Heahmund chuckled at first before giving a more detailed answer. "No, it isn't. My father is a historian and he was fascinated by ancient English history. Apparently, there was a warrior back then. A special bishop warrior. A master of the sword, like I am in some way," a new grin made Heahmund's upper lip rise up one side of his mouth. "If you guess what his name was, I'll kiss you again. Wherever you want."

Ivar listened to the words whilst his fingertips slid over the left side of Heahmund's head, enjoying the sensation that the shaved sides gave off. Despite knowing him for less than an hour, he just wanted to be close to him, at best touching him consistently. Heahmund didn't seem to mind when Ivar let his fingers wander, pretending he still had to think about the right answer. First, he stroked over his cheek, then over the bridge of his nose, and finally he retraced the contour of the sensuously curved lips that he was already longing for again. They hadn't melted into his for far too long. “Hmm, that's a tough one, but I have a feeling it might be Heahmund?"

"Oh, you're not only gorgeous, but smart as well, huh? Tell me then, where should I place my mouth?" Heahmund took advantage of the brief moment when Ivar withdrew his exploring fingers to reach for the drink himself, stealing a sip.

Despite the longing for a real kiss, "My belly button," had been the first thought that came to him, and Ivar simply voiced it, making Heahmund laugh once again. It also brought a smile to Ivar's lips. Oh, he liked this man more and more. The wrinkles that appeared around his eyes when he laughed made him ten times more attractive to him.

"Interesting choice, but okay," with these words he immediately pushed Ivar deeper into the soft backrest behind him, slid his hands under his buttocks and, with a jerk, pulled him closer towards him. This left Ivar almost lying on the wide bench, one leg still on the floor, the other rested slightly bent behind Heahmund on the bench. His belly was exposed, willing to become the target of caresses. Without waiting for objections, Heahmund pushed Ivar's shirt up a little and bent down to do his duty. His lips brushed just lightly over the navel, circling it with implied kisses before he began to nibble at the soft skin, playfully plunging his tongue into the hollow.

Ivar shuddered. The excitement caused by this sight and especially by the feeling of what the other was doing to him took complete possession of him, making him lean his head back, voicing his pleasure by moaning softly. Inwardly, he patted himself on the back for this great idea he had. The mop of black hair so close to the part of his body that already pressed against his pants made him nervous, let his imagination run wild. The tongue that continued to play around his navel, diving into it and the lips that sucked on it made Ivar tremble. It was easy to imagine what those touches would feel like a little further down.

"I should have said my ass," escaped Ivar in between two shaky breaths. Craving more, he tried to press his lower body closer to Heahmund's face. His hand, once again buried in the man's short hair, helped him to pin Heahmund exactly where he wanted to feel him for a little longer.

Warm breath brushed across his belly as Heahmund snorted in amusement. He kissed him again, dipped his tongue into the hollow one more time, and then licked his way down until the beginning of Ivar's pants prevented him from going any further. 

"You were too shy to give me a hand job here, but you would have let me kiss your ass instead? I don’t think so, sweetheart,” when Heahmund looked up, he met eyes that shimmered with lust and he saw a sheepish grin that told him his suspicions might be right. Giving in to a spontaneous idea, he grabbed the glass again and let some of the contents drip onto Ivar's stomach, eliciting another surprised gasp from the boy. As soon as he had safely put the glass down again, Heahmund began to lick up the liquid from the heated skin underneath him.

"Right now, I'd let you do anything to me," Ivar said breathlessly as a new wave of arousal shot into his crotch, making him lift his hips in need of a touch there.

Heahmund took the hint and stroked his palm several times over the visible bulge. "I'm glad to hear that," he said as he sat back up and looked down at the boy, who was looking up at him expectantly and lustfully. "Here, have another sip. Your legs are still too close together for my liking," Heahmund reached for the glass again and shoved it into Ivar's hand, who obeyed the command, giggling.

"How about we go to the bathroom? We could deepen our acquaintance there a bit, hm?”  Ivar suggested, but he didn't give Heahmund time to answer. Instead, he grabbed him by the shirt, pulled him closer and began a new series of frantic and deep kisses. He had to still his need to feel those lips on his own. His tongue licked into the sweet-tasting mouth, encircling the other, mixing the taste components of the cocktail with the notes of both of their personal flavors. 

This time, Heahmund showed neither patience nor restraint. He made it clear that he would have the upper hand from now on and Ivar had no more willpower to resist. He was horny,  he wanted to keep going, wanted to feel that cock deep inside him, that was once again pressed against his own erection, while Heahmund pushed him further into the padding, grinding against him. He didn't seem to have a problem with the fact that they weren't in a private place.

Every time Ivar bucked his hips up, thirsting for more, Heahmund pressed himself tighter against him, gyrating his hips or mimicking thrusts as if they were already naked and in the middle of it. Ivar was on the verge of begging to be fucked right there, but he couldn't turn off his thoughts and forget where they still were. After a few more kisses which left him breathless and even more needy, he gently pulled Heahmund back by the hair and addressed his words to him in a soft and pleading tone. "Please, if you want to fuck, let's go somewhere else."

"Hmm~, I would love to and normally I'm all for dirty and messy sex, but I'm too old for the kind of filth that comes with small and dirty toilet stalls," Heahmund dove into another kiss, stifling Ivar's frustrated moan in the process, while he thought about another possibility to get dirty without getting actual dirty. “We could try and check if the door leading to the roof terrace is unlocked. We could go there if you want more privacy”

Ivar nodded in agreement. Everything was better than staying right here. In his deepest subconscious, he wondered how Heahmund knew there was a terrace on the roof here, but at the moment he didn't bother to ask him. It was more important to him that they could move on somewhere else, and if that was going to be high up under the night sky, he was up for that kind of adventure.

Not without stealing a few kisses first, Heahmund finally stood up again and grabbed Ivar’s hand, pulling him to his feet as well. Not wanting to waste the cocktail, which was only half-drunk so far, he treated himself to some more and passed the glass to Ivar afterward, who drained the rest in one go. 

It had to be Ivar's lucky day. The door was unlocked and actually led to a roof terrace that no one but them seemed to be aware of. It had taken a while to get to the top, because Heahmund had made it his mission to squeeze Ivar against the wall after each section of stairs, goading him on with more kisses and hands that seemed to fumble all over his upper body and ass. Ivar suspected that Heahmund had initiated these sweet pauses because perhaps he thought Ivar would have difficulty climbing so many stairs at once. He didn't, but he kept his mouth shut in that regard. He enjoyed the thoughtfulness and of course the touches and kisses too much as to complain.

Ivar felt phenomenal. He literally floated up the last few steps. High on his own lust and the deeply satisfying feeling that he was able to trigger so much desire in someone else.

And that Heahmund wanted him, by all means, was shown by how impetuously he acted. As soon as the door to the roof terrace slammed shut behind them, Ivar was pinned face-first against the wall next to the door. He didn't even have time to look around briefly. Heahmund seemed in such a hurry that he was already in the process of undoing the boy’s pants, while spreading kisses all over his neck.

"Is that private enough for you?" Heahmund asked, sliding his hand into the now open pants, grabbing Ivar's cock after wetting his palm with some spit, jerking it with quick and firm movements. With his other hand he hastily pulled the pants further down. Because of the exo-skeleton, he couldn't pull the fabric further than mid-thigh, but that didn't bother him much. The butt was exposed, that was all he needed, and the sight of that perfect round shape made Heahmund moan his chosen term of endearment once more as well as give in to the urge to rub his own bulge against that naked doozy.

Ivar raised his arm and placed it against the wall in front of him, using it to rest his head against it. The fresh breeze of night air that brushed against his exposed underbody couldn't really cool him down, he was too much on fire. The hand that kept stroking his cock made it hard for him to form proper words to answer Heahmund. 

“Oh fuck…I…I don’t know…god yes…I…I couldn't take a proper look…a-ah…there could be people staring at us and I ..ugh…I wouldn't know."

"There's no one here but you and me. You can trust me." Heahmund reached for Ivar's other hand, which rested propped against the wall at stomach level, and guided it to his own crotch again.

"I'd prefer you thrust into me," Ivar joked as he complied with the unspoken request and began unzipping Heahmund's pants to free his cock. He felt the wetness of the precum on his fingertips as he stroked over the pulsing hardness that pressed into his hand in demand, simultaneously thrusting against his ass. 

Ivar sensed how Heahmunds stroked with two fingers over his own tip, how he collected the liquid that had also accumulated there, and how his fingers then spread it around his entrance. He changed his position, leaned his head against Heahmund's shoulder, and turned sideways to be able to kiss him again.

“Oh, I will,” Heahmund couldn't say much more, because Ivar's mouth was already greedily demanding attention, which he was only too happy to give him. They could still talk afterward, but now other things were more important.

After Ivar pulled a condom out of his back pocket, everything went like in triple speed. Now there was no stopping anymore. Heahmund took the small package from his hand, opened it directly and also grabbed a small packet of lube out of his own pocket. Hastily, he spread the slippery gel on his latex sheathed cock as well as around Ivar's entrance. He could feel the shiver that went through Ivar's body when he touched him there, and Heahmund tortured him a bit more by biting his neck and then licking over the spot. Shortly after, he could see goosebumps spreading over Ivar's neck and he didn't miss the chance to repeat what he had done a second time before moving a step further.

The slight pain that shot through Ivar as Heahmund spread his buttocks and thrust the tip into him made his legs tremble. Aroused, he groaned, threw his head back into his neck, and a moment later he felt those delicious lips on his own again.

Heahmund paused. He used all his willpower to give Ivar time to get used to his cock, while trying to distract him with kisses and touches as best he could. His hand stroked the younger man's arousal with slow movements, careful not to push him over the cliff too soon by stimulating him too much. Acknowledging Ivar's impatience with a grin, he watched in fascination as the boy pressed closer to him of his own accord, impaling himself further and further. His other hand caressed Ivar's torso in frantic movements before he put his arm around the younger man's waist to give him some more support.

“Slow down,” Heahmund advised. Although the rush and his own appetite spurred him on, and he would have loved to sink into the willing body himself with one powerful thrust, he held back and continued to let Ivar set the pace. He felt the tremors that shot through the young body and heard it in Ivar's broken gasps that he might be in pain.

“Mhmmm~, no. It feels good. Go on. Fuck me,” Ivar had been in worse pain than this. This one was arousing. This one, he liked and he couldn’t get enough of it. He whispered one more time that he wanted to be fucked, giving Heahmund another confirmation that he was okay and in need of some good cock.

The first real thrust took his breath away, letting an almost embarrassed squeal escape his mouth. Ivar had to laugh briefly at the noise he had produced, but soon he was only able to gasp and moan and greedily beg for more.

It was heavenly torture. Heahmund held back at first, but as soon as he felt Ivar wanted it harder, he let loose, used him to his liking and sank himself deep into him again and again. Every time Ivar was about to come, Heahmund slowed down and stopped touching his cock. He only started thrusting into him faster and harder anew, jerking him off at the same time whenever Ivar had gotten out of the danger zone again. This made him growl in frustration each time, and made him beg to finally be allowed to come, but the complaints were always stifled by a deep kiss that left no room for further grievance.

Ivar didn't know how long they indulged in their lust, and when he came, decorating the wall in front of him with white speckles, he could literally see stars. The night sky above them was clear, making him stare dreamily upward as he, breathing heavily, once again lowered his head onto Heahmund's shoulder. Exhausted and out of breath, he slumped against him, trusting the older man to keep him upright.

—---------—-----------

After a short break, during which they had stood there for a while, cuddled up so close to each other, just kissing each other in slow movements, Ivar had finally been able to look around properly. He was relieved that there really was no one up here but them.

Now they were sitting on the ventilation shafts that stretched across the roof, overlooking the city that stretched out before them. Heahmund smoked a cigarette while Ivar kept his hands busy by touching him again, sliding his fingers over Heahmund's thighs and drawing little circles.

"Heahmund?" Ivar waited until the older man turned his head in his direction before continuing. "I want another riddle, and this time I want a kiss on my cock as a reward. A French-style one," Ivar murmured, recalling the image from earlier when Heahmund's mouth was already treacherously close there.

The new riddle came a little late only because of a laugh that came as a first reaction. Heahmund liked the prospect of the desired price, consequently, he kept the question as simple as possible. "Who's going to fuck your brains out all night long?"

Ivar grinned, but also felt the blush creep up his face again at this outlook. “I hope it's the sword master with the ancient name. Is that right?"  He leaned close to the man next to him, stopped before their lips touched and waited for the answer, before bridging the last bit of space.

"That is correct.”